The Titan Forge: Crushing Magic with Absolute Weight

Chapter 7: The Absolute Weight of Violence

The Royal Guards did not stop Kaelen as he walked out of the Grand Auction House. Inside these walls, he was a Platinum VIP. What happened outside on the streets was not their concern.

Kaelen stepped through the gilded double doors and out into the cool night air.

The bustling street of the Noble District was completely empty. Not a single carriage or civilian was in sight. The magical streetlamps flickered and died, plunging the cobblestone road into darkness.

Click. Clack.

From the rooftops, the alleyways, and the shadows of the marble statues, figures emerged.

Fifty men in the dark blue and silver armor of House Vance blocked the street. These weren't regular city guards. They were the family's secret executioners. Half of them were heavily armored knights; the other half were Tier-2 Combat Mages, their wands already glowing with lethal spells.

"The Master was right," the Captain of the executioners snarled, stepping forward. "The Null somehow survived the Ravine. But you made a fatal mistake coming here."

Kaelen didn't stop walking. He simply reached over his shoulder and gripped the thick canvas wrapping his weapon.

"We have fifty men. You have no mana," the Captain sneered, raising his glowing sword. "Tear him to pieces! Leave nothing but bones!"

"Fifty mages," Kaelen whispered.

He ripped the canvas away.

BOOM!

Kaelen dropped the massive, uncovered Obsidian Slab onto the cobblestone street. The sheer 800-pound weight of the iron block instantly cratered the stone floor, sending a shockwave of dust into the air.

"Against one piece of iron." Kaelen looked up, his golden eyes glowing in the dark like a predator's. "Let's see who breaks."

"Fire!" the Captain roared.

Twenty Tier-2 Fireballs and Lightning Bolts illuminated the night sky, flying directly at Kaelen's chest. It was a concentrated magical bombardment that could level a small fortress.

Kaelen grabbed the hilt of the black slab with one hand and casually hoisted it up like a massive rectangular shield.

KABOOM!

The explosive magic washed over Kaelen. The street was engulfed in a blinding inferno. The executioners smirked. No human could survive that.

But as the smoke cleared, their smiles vanished.

Kaelen was standing in the center of a scorched crater. His dark cloak was burned away, revealing his perfectly sculpted Titan Body. His skin was slightly red, but completely unbroken.

"My turn."

Kaelen’s leg muscles coiled like steel springs. The ground shattered beneath his boots as he launched himself forward with terrifying, explosive speed.

He didn't swing at the knights. He bypassed them entirely, crashing directly into the backline of the fragile mages.

"Protect the mages! Earth Wall!" the Captain screamed in panic.

Three mages slammed their hands on the ground, erecting a massive, two-foot-thick wall of solid granite in front of Kaelen.

Kaelen didn't even slow down. He gripped the hilt with both hands, twisted his torso, and swung the 800-pound slab like a monumental baseball bat.

CRASH!

The granite wall didn't just break; it exploded into powder.

The massive flat blade carried its terrifying momentum right through the rock and slammed into the four mages behind it.

There was no scream. There was only the sickening, wet sound of bodies being instantly pulverized. The blunt force trauma turned the elite spellcasters into a mist of blood and shattered bones.

"Monster!" a knight yelled, thrusting his enchanted spear at Kaelen's back.

Kaelen spun around, the momentum of the heavy slab turning him into a terrifying black whirlwind. The iron block caught three charging knights in the ribs.

Their magical armor crumpled like wet paper. They were launched forty feet into the air, crashing into the stone walls of the surrounding buildings like broken dolls.

Kaelen didn't stop. He became a force of nature. Every swing of the heavy, edgeless slab created a vacuum in the air. Swords shattered upon contact. Magic shields popped like balloons.

It wasn't a fight. It was a one-sided slaughter. A harvest.

[Ding! Defeated 12x Combat Mages.]

[Ding! Defeated 15x Armored Knights.]

[Absorbing massive amounts of residual mana and cursed blood...]

Invisible black fire roared in Kaelen's chest. With every man he crushed, the System devoured their escaping magic, funneling pure, scorching vitality directly into his muscles.

Kaelen was literally getting stronger with every swing.

[Titan Body Progression: 40/100.]

[Host Level Up! Current Level: 4]

In less than three minutes, the street was painted red. Forty-nine elite executioners lay dead, their bodies unrecognizable.

The Captain was the only one left. He fell to his knees, dropping his wand, his mind completely broken by the sheer, unadulterated physical violence he had just witnessed.

Kaelen walked up to him, dragging the blood-soaked black slab behind him. Sparks flew as the heavy iron scraped against the surviving cobblestones.

Before Kaelen could bring the weapon down, a suffocating, terrifying pressure suddenly descended upon the street.

The air grew freezing cold. The ambient mana in the atmosphere became so dense it was hard to breathe.

"I must admit," a smooth, chilling voice echoed from the shadows. "For a piece of magicless trash, you hit quite hard."

Kaelen slowly looked up.

Floating ten feet in the air, radiating the terrifying aura of a Tier-4 Grandmage, was Lord Alistair Vance—Cedric's uncle, and the Head of the Royal Treasury.