2026-07-29 18:37:15The giant hammer exploded into a hundred pieces of broken metal. The green lightning was instantly sucked into Bruce's fist, disappearing into his Void Brand.
The Captain stumbled forward, totally off balance, holding only a broken metal stick.
Bruce reached out and grabbed the front of the Captain's heavy iron skull helmet.
"You called me a rat," Bruce whispered softly, looking into the dark eye holes of the mask. "But a rat only eats garbage. I eat everything."
Bruce activated Devour at maximum power.
The Captain did not even have time to scream. The massive surge of magic from his body was ripped out so violently that the air around them snapped and cracked. The heavy spiked armor rusted instantly. The giant man crumbled into a massive pile of gray ash, leaving nothing behind but the broken handle of his hammer.
Bruce stood alone among twelve piles of dust.
He took a deep breath. His body was practically glowing. He felt taller. He felt completely changed. The LitRPG progression had transformed him from a starving, weak boy into a terrifying warrior in the span of five minutes.
He looked up toward the center of the cavern.
High up on the black obsidian platform, Lady Hestia was watching him.
The Matriarch of the Iron-Heart Clan was leaning against the stone altar, clutching her chest. Her face was as white as a ghost. Her jaw was dropped wide open. She had just watched her twelve best, most ruthless executioners get killed in three minutes by a nineteen-year-old boy without a single drop of blood being spilled.
The five red-cloaked Elders behind her were shaking in fear. They were holding onto each other, looking at Bruce like he was the devil himself.
"It's your turn, Hestia," Bruce called out. His magically enhanced voice carried easily across the massive cavern. "I'm coming up there. I am going to break your machine. I am going to free my mother. And then, I am going to devour you."
Hestia shook her head. "No... no, this is impossible. You are a mistake! You are Void-Born!"
"I am exactly what you made me," Bruce replied.
Bruce bent his knees. With his new physical power, he knew he could easily jump the huge distance to the top of the obsidian platform. He prepared to launch himself into the air and finish this nightmare once and for all.
But suddenly, Bruce stopped.
His new, highly sensitive ears picked up a sound.
It was not the sound of the machines. It was not the sound of the spirits crying. It was a slow, steady marching sound.
Then, Bruce felt something terrible. It hit him like a physical wall of heat. It was not the cold, bloody magic of the catacombs. It was not the dark, oily magic of the assassins.
It was a feeling of overwhelming, suffocating pressure. It felt like standing directly on the surface of the sun. It was so intense that the skin on the back of Bruce's neck began to blister and burn.
Bruce turned around quickly, looking toward the far end of the cavern.
There was a massive stone tunnel entrance on the far wall, big enough to fit an entire army.
A blinding, brilliant light began to spill out of the tunnel. It was not the red light of the alarms or the green light of the vats. It was pure, perfect, burning gold.
The red fog on the floor completely vanished as the golden light touched it. The shadows in the cavern were erased. It was so bright that Bruce had to raise his hand to shield his eyes.
"Master," the Ashen Seraph warned. The giant angel stepped close to Bruce, spreading its dark wings to block the burning light. The Seraph's voice was tense. "The Hunters have found us."
From the blinding golden light, a figure stepped out onto the cavern floor.
He was riding a massive horse made of solidified sunlight. He wore pure white armor lined with gold. In his right hand, he held a long, broad sword wrapped in holy, burning flames. His face was covered in deep, old scars, and his eyes were glowing with a terrifying, righteous fury.
It was High Inquisitor Bontus.
He had not stayed in the plaza above. He had followed the trail of dark magic all the way down into the deep earth.
And he had brought his army with him.
Behind Bontus, fifty fully armored Inquisitors of the Light marched out of the tunnel. Their golden shields and flaming swords lit up the cavern like it was high noon.
"Heretics!" Bontus roared. His voice was infused with holy magic. It slammed into Bruce’s ears, making his head ring in pain.
Bontus pointed his burning sword directly at Bruce, and then pointed it up at Lady Hestia on the platform.
"The Order of the Solar Flame sees all!" Bontus shouted, his voice echoing like thunder. "You deal in dark magic! You deal in stolen souls! You are all guilty of Heresy Class One! I declare this entire cavern a zone of absolute purge!"
Bontus raised his flaming sword high. The fifty Inquisitors behind him did the same.
"Burn the boy! Burn the angel! Burn the Matriarch!" Bontus ordered. "Burn everything until only God remains!"
Bruce gripped his Blade of Lost Tears tightly. He had just grown stronger, but as the army of golden fire charged forward, he knew this fight was going to be completely different.
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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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