2026-07-29 18:36:32A guard on the left charged first. He was holding a massive spear. The blade of the spear was wrapped in roaring red fire. The thick rubber tube on the back of his armor was pumping bright red liquid, drawing raw fire magic from the network.
"Die, bastard!" the guard yelled. He thrust the fire spear directly at Bruce’s throat.
Bruce did not dodge. He did not even blink.
He stepped directly into the attack. Bruce moved his head slightly to the left. The burning spear blade missed his neck by a single inch. The heat singed the ends of his dark hair.
Before the guard could pull the spear back, Bruce reached out with his left hand.
He grabbed the metal shaft of the spear, right below the burning blade.
The Brand of the Void activated instantly. A pulse of purple light shot down Bruce's arm.
The roaring red fire on the spear did not just go out. It was violently sucked into Bruce's palm. The magic was ripped away so fast that the air popped. But Bruce did not stop at eating the fire.
The guard’s weapon was connected to the siphon-pack on his back. By grabbing the weapon, Bruce was connected to the guard's stolen life essence.
"Ahhhh!" the guard screamed.
The thick iron spear in Bruce's hand instantly turned gray, rusted, and then crumbled into a pile of ash.
But the Devour skill kept pulling. It pulled through the ash, through the air, and straight into the guard's body. The glowing red tube on the guard's back turned black.
The guard's heavy iron armor rusted and fell apart in chunks. His body shriveled up like a dried leaf. In less than two seconds, the elite Dungeon Guard collapsed onto the wet stone floor, turning into a pile of gray dust and empty, rusted metal.
Bruce stood still. He closed his eyes.
A massive surge of pure life essence and fire magic rushed into his body. It was a hundred times stronger than the shadow magic he had stolen from Mike the Assassin. This was raw, concentrated energy.
Then, the pain started. It was not a bad pain. It was the pain of sudden, explosive growth.
Bruce dropped to one knee. He gasped for air. Inside his body, something incredible was happening. The LitRPG progression mechanics of the world were taking over his physical form.
He felt his muscle fibers literally snapping and tearing apart. But the moment they tore, the stolen life essence rushed in. It sewed the muscles back together instantly, making them thicker, tighter, and much stronger.
He heard his own bones creaking. The stolen magic was making his bones denser, turning them from normal human bone into something as hard as steel. His heart began to pump faster, pushing thick, rich, magically enhanced blood through his veins.
His vision suddenly changed. Everything around him slowed down. He could see the individual drops of water falling from the ceiling. He could see the dust floating in the red air.
Ding.
A strange, clear sound rang inside Bruce’s head, like a bell being struck. It was the sound of his soul breaking past a mortal limit.
He felt a new knowledge settle into his mind. He had unlocked a passive physical enhancement. Void-Forged Body.
Because he was a Void-Born, his body was naturally weak at birth. The universe had designed him to be empty. But now, he was filling that emptiness. The more magic he devoured, the more his physical body would adapt to hold it. He did not just gain magical spells; he gained raw, unstoppable physical power. He realized a terrifying truth: the more he fought, the stronger he would become. He could level up in the middle of a battle just by eating his enemies.
Bruce stood up. He did not feel tired anymore. He felt like he could lift a mountain. He felt like he could outrun a horse.
He looked at the remaining eleven guards.
The silver fire in his eyes was now leaking out, trailing like smoke from the corners of his eyes.
"One down," Bruce said. His voice sounded different. It was deeper, echoing slightly, like two voices speaking at the same time.
The guards took a step back. They looked at the pile of gray ash on the floor. Their friend was completely gone.
"What is he?" one of the guards whispered, his voice trembling behind his skull mask.
"Don't be afraid!" the Captain roared. "He is just one boy! Attack him together! Freeze him! Cut him!"
Three guards charged at Bruce at the same time.
The first guard swung a massive chain made of jagged, freezing blue ice. The chain whipped through the air, aiming for Bruce's legs to trip him.
The second guard swung a heavy battle axe. The blade of the axe was surrounded by sharp, swirling wind magic. It was aimed right at Bruce's head.
The third guard thrust a sword made of solid, glowing earth magic, aiming for Bruce's stomach.
Bruce did not wait for them. With his new Void-Forged Body, his physical speed had spiked massively.
He kicked off the stone floor. The stone beneath his foot cracked under his new strength. Bruce shot forward like a blur. He reached the first guard before the ice chain could even hit the ground.
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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
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