2026-07-29 18:38:25"Master, stop!" the Ashen Seraph shouted. The giant angel lunged forward, trying to grab Bruce’s arm. "Do not strike the ward! It is Holy Light! It is the exact opposite of the Void! Your core cannot eat it yet!"
Bruce ignored the warning. He did not care about the rules of magic. He did not care about polar opposites. He only saw the chains piercing his mother's skin, and he wanted them broken.
"Break!" Bruce roared.
He swung the dark smoke-blade forward with every ounce of his newly upgraded physical strength. His Void-Forged muscles flexed, delivering a blow that could have cut a mountain in half.
The Blade of Lost Tears slammed directly into the side of the Golden Cell.
The result was catastrophic.
When dark Void magic meets pure Holy Light, they do not mix. They annihilate each other.
There was no sound at first. Just a blinding flash of pure, perfect white light that erased all color from the room.
Then, the explosion hit.
KA-THOOOOOM!
A massive shockwave of pure holy fire erupted outward from the surface of the sphere.
Bruce was at ground zero. The holy fire hit him like a charging train made of solid heat. It completely ignored his new, dense muscles. The holy fire burned on a spiritual level, searing straight into his dark mana core.
"GAAAAAH!" Bruce screamed.
The impact lifted him completely off his feet. He was thrown backward through the air like a discarded toy. The dark smoke-blade was ripped from his grip and dissolved instantly.
Bruce flew backward for forty feet. He slammed violently into the hard, pristine white stone wall of the chamber.
CRUNCH.
The impact cracked the marble wall. Bruce fell to the floor, bouncing once before sliding to a stop on his side.
Pain unlike anything he had ever felt tore through his body. His clothes were smoking. His skin, which had just been made invincible against normal iron and magic, was badly burned. The right side of his face, his shoulder, and his chest were covered in angry, red blisters.
He tried to activate his Devour skill to eat the lingering holy magic burning his skin. But the Brand of the Void on his shoulder just pulsed weakly and retreated. The Seraph had been right. Holy Light was the direct counter to his dark powers. His young, developing Void core was not adapted to digest pure holy fire yet. It was like trying to swallow actual lava.
Bruce coughed hard, spitting up a mouthful of blood onto the clean white floor. His ears were ringing with a deafening screech. His vision was blurry and swimming with bright spots.
"Master!" the Seraph cried out.
The giant angel had also been pushed back by the holy shockwave. The Seraph’s smoky wings were singed, and its silver bone mask was smoking. The angel rushed over to Bruce, kneeling beside him.
"I warned you," the Seraph said, its voice tight with worry. "The Golden Cell is designed to repel the dark. It reflects your own force back at you, multiplied by light. If you strike it again, it will turn you into ash."
Bruce groaned. He pushed his hands against the floor, forcing his trembling arms to lift his heavy body. Every muscle screamed in protest. The holy burns felt like millions of tiny needles buried under his skin.
He looked toward the center of the room. The Golden Cell was completely unharmed. It hummed quietly, glowing just as brightly as before.
Inside, Victoria was crying. She pulled weakly at her hard-light chains.
"Bruce," she wept, her weak voice echoing softly. "Bruce, stop. Please don't hurt yourself for me. Run away. Please, my sweet boy, just run."
"I am not... leaving you," Bruce grunted. He managed to push himself up onto one knee. He was breathing heavily, sweat and blood dripping from his chin. "I will tear this cage apart... piece by piece."
Suddenly, a new sound echoed into the pristine white room. It was the heavy, rhythmic sound of armored boots walking down the smooth stone tunnel.
Bruce froze. He turned his head, fighting through the dizziness and the pain.
A shadow fell over the entrance of the Deepest Vault.
High Inquisitor Bontus stepped into the pristine white room.
The giant man looked absolutely terrifying. His pure white and gold armor was covered in the blood of the Iron-Heart guards he had slaughtered in the cavern above. He had left his horse of light behind, but he still held his long, broad sword wrapped in holy flames.
Behind Bontus, ten elite Inquisitors marched into the room, fanning out to block the tunnel exit. They raised their golden shields, creating an impenetrable wall of holy light.
Bruce was trapped.
Bontus looked at the Golden Cell, nodding his head in satisfaction when he saw that Victoria Thompson was still safely locked inside.
Then, the High Inquisitor turned his cold, scarred face toward Bruce.
Bontus saw the terrible burns on Bruce’s skin. He saw the boy struggling to stand on one knee. He saw the dark Ashen Seraph standing defensively over its master, slightly weakened by the holy shockwave.
A cruel, twisted smile spread across Bontus's scarred face.
"The Void-Born bastard," Bontus said, his voice dripping with absolute disgust. "You thought you were a god because you killed a few pathetic, undisciplined Iron-Heart guards. But darkness always breaks against the true light."
Bontus slowly raised his burning sword, pointing the fiery tip directly at Bruce’s injured chest.
"You hit the Inquisitor Ward," Bontus laughed, a deep, mocking sound. "You poisoned yourself with holy fire. Your dark magic is useless now. You cannot devour my light, boy. You are weak, you are broken, and you have nowhere to run."
Bruce forced himself to stand up. His legs shook violently, and his vision swam, but he refused to kneel before this corrupt monster.
"I will not run," Bruce said. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his silver eyes flashing with stubborn, angry fire.
Bontus stepped forward, the heat of his sword rising.
"Good," Bontus sneered. "Then I will enjoy watching you burn to ash in front of your mother’s eyes."
The ten Inquisitors raised their weapons, the room suddenly glowing with a blinding, lethal heat. Bruce stood bare-handed, his skin severely burned, facing an army of his ultimate weakness, with the life of his mother hanging in the balance.
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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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