2026-07-28 19:14:45Bruce looked down at the assassin. Mike was still alive. His chest moved up and down as he took shallow, weak breaths. But he looked completely different. His hair, which had been jet black, had suddenly turned totally white. His skin was pale and covered in deep wrinkles. Without his mana center to keep his body strong and young, Mike had instantly aged twenty years.
He was just a weak, old man now. He was a mundane. He would never be able to cast a shadow-stitch again. He would never be able to sneak through the dark. He would never be an assassin again.
Mike slowly opened his eyes. He looked at his own hands. They were trembling and covered in liver spots. He tried to summon a tiny bit of magic, just a single spark of shadow, but nothing happened. The well inside him was completely dry. It was gone forever.
"My magic," Mike whispered, a tear rolling down his wrinkled cheek. "It's gone. I am... I am nothing."
"You are what you always were, Mike," Bruce said coldly. "Nothing."
Bruce stood over the broken man. He could have easily raised his smoke-blade and taken Mike's head off. It would have been easy. It would have been fast. But Bruce knew a better punishment. Living as a weak, powerless old man in a world of cruel magic users was a much worse punishment for a proud assassin.
"I am going to leave you alive," Bruce said.
Mike looked up at Bruce. His eyes were full of confusion, fear, and deep despair.
"Why?" Mike croaked. His voice sounded like broken glass. "Just kill me. Hestia will never let me live like this. The clan will throw me to the dogs. Just kill me."
"No," Bruce said. "I need a messenger. And you are going to deliver a message for me."
Bruce leaned down. He grabbed the front of Mike's leather suit and pulled the old man halfway up from the floor. He brought his face very close to Mike's. The silver fire in Bruce's eyes reflected in the assassin's terrified pupils.
"You are going to crawl out of this tower," Bruce ordered, his voice echoing with the power of the Void. "You are going to crawl down the stairs, and you are going to find Lady Hestia. You are going to tell her that I know the truth. Tell her I read my mother's diary. Tell her I know they are using my mother as a battery in the catacombs."
Mike whimpered. He tried to pull away, but Bruce’s grip was like iron.
"And then," Bruce continued, his voice dropping to a dark, dangerous whisper, "you will give her this exact message. Tell her: I am going to eat this clan alive. I am going to devour every spirit, every spell, and every piece of magic in this estate until there is nothing left but ashes. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Mike cried, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. "I understand! I will tell her!"
Bruce opened his hand and let Mike drop back to the dirty floor.
"Then get out of my sight," Bruce commanded.
Mike did not wait. The old, broken man rolled over onto his stomach. He was too weak to stand, so he dragged himself toward the heavy oak door. He used his hands to pull his body across the floor. He looked like a crushed insect dragging itself away. He reached the door, pushed it open, and crawled out into the dark hallway, sobbing into the darkness.
Bruce watched him go. He felt no pity. He felt no sadness. The Iron-Heart Clan had taught him that the weak suffer and the strong survive. They had taught him that lesson every single day for nineteen years. Now, he was just being a very good student.
The heavy door closed with a loud thud.
Bruce was alone in the attic again with the Ashen Seraph.
The room was quiet now. The storm outside seemed to be getting worse, with rain beating heavily against the broken window, but inside, everything was still.
Bruce took a deep breath. His body was buzzing with the new magic he had stolen. He felt a connection to the shadows around him. He felt like he could command the darkness in the corners of the room to do whatever he wanted.
But there was no time to play with his new power. The High Inquisitor and his army of light were still down in the plaza. The entire clan would be looking for him soon. He had to move fast.
Bruce turned away from the door. He walked back to the center of the room, near the old bed where his mother used to sleep.
"The diary said she is in the catacombs," Bruce said to himself. "But the catacombs are a maze. They run under the entire estate. How do I find her?"
"The blood remembers, Master," the Ashen Seraph whispered. The giant angel folded its six wings closer to its body to fit in the tight space. "Use the True Sight again. Look beneath the surface of the world."
Bruce nodded. He closed his eyes and focused on the silver fire inside him. He remembered the feeling he had when he first saw the glowing pulse under the floor.
He opened his eyes. The world shifted. The normal colors faded away, replaced by the dark, glowing threads of magic and spirit energy.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 52
Hestia looked up at Bruce. Her face was covered in blood and wet dirt. Her eyes, which used to look at him with such cold, cruel arrogance, were now filled with absolute, pure terror. She opened her mouth, but she was too weak to speak. She just whimpered, raising a trembling, bleeding hand to protect her face. She expected Bruce to summon his dark sword and cut her head off. Bruce looked down at the Matriarch of the Iron-Heart Clan. He looked at the woman who had locked his mother in a cage, who had branded his shoulder, and who had ordered him to be treated like garbage for nineteen years. He could easily kill her right now. It would take one second. But Bruce did not raise his hand. He realized that killing her here, in the rubble, was too easy. She was already defeated. Her gate was destroyed. Her secret battery farm was exposed to the church. Her elite army was dead. Hestia was going to have to explain this massive failure to the rest of the noble clans and the angry Inquisi
Chapter 51
The Blade of Lost Tears materialized in his grip. But it was not a normal sword of dark smoke anymore. Fueled by the Seraph’s full localized power and the explosive Ashen Fire, the sword grew. It expanded massively, shooting up into the rainy sky. It became a towering pillar of black and white flames, sixty feet long and ten feet wide. It looked like a column of absolute destruction. Bruce grabbed the hilt of the massive, sixty-foot pillar of fire with both hands. He did not feel the weight. The magic moved with his will. He ignored the army of Inquisitors behind him. He ignored the holy spears and fireballs flying at his back. He focused entirely on the giant monster and the massive eighty-foot gate blocking his path to freedom. "I am the Devourer," Bruce’s voice boomed. It sounded like an earthquake. Bruce swung the massive, sixty-foot sword of Ashen Fire directly at the Northern Gate. He swung it in a perfect, horizontal arc. The giant pillar of black and white fire hit Hest
Chapter 50
"Very little, Master," the Seraph replied. "Only enough for one final attack. But I cannot come out of your shadow. The holy net will burn me instantly.""You don't need to come out," Bruce commanded. "I am the Devourer. I am the bridge. I want you to push all of your remaining power directly into my body. Every single drop. I will channel your true, localized power through my own flesh."The Seraph was completely shocked by the order. "Master, you cannot do that!" the Seraph warned quickly. "My power is Forbidden. It is too dense, too chaotic! Your Void-Forged Body is strong, but you are still a mortal boy! If I push my full power through your cracked core, it will break your bones! It will tear your muscles apart! You might explode!""I don't care!" Bruce shouted out loud. His sudden shout made Bontus and Hestia stop arguing. They both looked down at the boy in the glowing net. "I don't care if it breaks my bones!" Bruce yelled, his voice echoing over the rain. He opened his eyes
Chapter 49
Bruce Thompson lay flat on the wet, cold cobblestones. The holy net of pure, burning hard-light was wrapped tightly around his body. The magic acted like glowing ropes of fire, pinning his arms to his sides and his legs together. Every time he took a breath, the net burned deeper into his wet clothes and his skin. He could smell the sickening scent of his own burning flesh. He was completely trapped. Above him, the giant, mutated monster that used to be Lady Hestia looked down. She was fused into the massive, eighty-foot Northern Gate. Her giant iron face twisted into an ugly, jagged smile. Her eyes burned with red, stolen blood-magic. She raised her massive foot, which was made of heavy iron beams and sharp spikes. She hovered it directly over Bruce’s head, ready to stomp him into a bloody paste. "I have you now!" Hestia’s monstrous voice roared. The sound shook the heavy rain in the air. "You are nothing but a trapped rat, Bruce! A little, dirty rat caught in a trap!"But befor
Chapter 48
The Seraph was not strong enough to stop the monster completely, but the dark chains slowed the giant arms down for just one crucial second. Bruce used that second perfectly. He ran straight up the falling right arm. His bare feet found traction on the rusty iron and the glowing red spikes. He sprinted up the massive arm like it was a ramp, defying gravity. "Get off me!" Hestia screamed. She tried to shake her arm, but Bruce was too fast. He reached the shoulder of the giant monster. He leaped off the metal joint, launching himself high into the air, directly toward the center of the gate. He was flying straight toward Hestia’s giant, ugly face. Bruce reached his left hand out. The Brand of the Void on his shoulder flared with its maximum power. The deep purple light illuminated the rainy night. He was ready to pull the corrupted magic right out of her brain. He was ready to end the Matriarch once and for all. "I am going to eat you alive, Hestia," Bruce whispered as he flew thro
Chapter 47
Without even slowing his sprint, Bruce reached his left hand up and caught the glowing red fire-arrow directly out of the air. He did not even look at it. He simply absorbed the fire magic into his palm, turning the iron arrowhead to rust, and kept running. The guards on the ground were completely decimated. They could not fight back. They could not even defend themselves. Every time they swung a weapon, Bruce was already behind them. Every time they tried to use magic, Bruce ate it, growing stronger, faster, and more deadly. It was not a battle. It was a harvest. In less than sixty seconds, the remaining twenty Iron-Guards on the ground were completely erased. There were no bodies. There was no blood. There were only piles of gray ash quickly washing away in the freezing rain. Bruce slid to a stop. His bare feet dug deep grooves into the wet stone. He was breathing deeply, but he was not tired. The stolen magic rushed through his veins, repairing his torn muscles instantly. The
You may also like
Hero In The Cultivator World
Shin Novel 82.0K viewsKingsman Return
Kuraii159.7K viewsThe Guardian of Evil Goddess
IEL38.3K viewsReincarnated in another world with a Gunsmithing System
Ashdenroth15.4K viewsThe Borrowed Time System
abundance ke226 viewsREBORN IN A WORLD OF MAGIC AND TALENT, I AWAKENED THE HB SS
The Ruler 199 viewsThe Throne of the Devoured God
Olamide269 viewsHeaven's Bound: The Rise Of The Infernal Sage
Roseheart195 views