2026-03-05 16:24:04The 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.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 32: The Trojan Tribute
Three days after Kaelen’s voice had burned itself into the comms of every mage tower and soup kitchen on the continent, the first delegation arrived.The Sunfire Empire rolled up to the gates of the Titan’s Anvil with a motorcade that looked like the funeral parade for a murdered god. Fifty carriages, lacquered black, each one ringed with a triple-tier of gold-edged formation mages. At their center, in a shockwave-bent puddle of light, the Imperial Envoy knelt—a man so lacquered in oaths and curses that just looking at him stung the eyes like cut onions.Kaelen received them in the Anvil’s outer yard, seated on a makeshift throne of fused armor and the melted crests of the last three “local governors.” Flanking him stood Silas, face shaved clean for the occasion and suit pressed, though the effect was ruined by the bristling black knives holstered up both arms.The mages of the Empire arranged themselves at a respectful fifty
Chapter 31: The Celestial Beacon
Nothing said “new reign” like a cratered throne room and the scent of torched reality.The surface of the Titan’s Anvil, once flat as the ambition of a Royal Auditor, was now a caldera: cracked, warped, and glowing faintly gold from the heat still bleeding through the stone. At its epicenter, a pit, rimmed with splinters of the last seven defensive wards. The pit roared, for a moment, with the sound of a hundred thousand tons of rebounding pressure. Then, from the bottom, something moved.A gold-skinned colossus erupted—Kaelen, stage 4, Gold Titan, muscles banded with coursing black veins. He didn’t just leap from the pit: he detonated from it, a kinetic marvel so rude to the laws of physics that the sky lost color for a heartbeat. He landed dead center in the collapsed arena of the Anvil, cratering the dais at double the depth of the last
Chapter 30: Devouring the Demigod
The black hellfire in the eye sockets of the ancient skeleton didn’t flicker. It detonated into life—a pair of cosmic searchlights, fixing on Kaelen as if trying to reverse-calculate his ancestry from a single, damning flaw. Divine Pressure hammered the chamber, folding the air inward, compressing every atom into a scream of pure, existential intent.The pressure hit like the business end of a planet. Every molecule of rock, every bead of superheated poison in the air, rushed to its knees. Even the walls—wrought from minerals that remembered the birth of light—groaned under the crush, flexing, then powdering at the seams. Just breathing cost more energy than a Tier-6 mage would spend in a decade.Kaelen didn’t bow. He grinned, a strip of obsidian in the dark gold alloy of his face, and rolled his neck.He felt the echoes of a thousand priest-kings, whole dynasties built on the ability to withstand this pressure and nothing else. He had swallowed forty years’ worth of their forbidden c
Chapter 29: The Titan's Anvil
Kaelen sat atop what passed for a throne: a chair forged from the welded, shorn armor-plates of three Royal Academy warlords, the whole thing stained with resin and thick, organic colors that, even now, were outgassing the death rattle of mana. He didn’t bother to elevate it. The “throne room” was merely the open, rain-soaked courtyard of the conquered Blackiron Fortress—renamed, by a hand-lettered sign nailed to the main gate, as “The Titan’s Anvil.” It was ugly, makeshift, and unguarded, and Kaelen thought it perfect.The first wave of newly loyal retainers shuffled before him, none exactly sure if court protocol applied or, for that matter, what flavor of etiquette kept your skull attached to your spine in the presence of a king who ate magic for breakfast. Heavy knights—real, plate-armored brutes, some still splattered with the blue blood of dead mages—lined the causeway. Behind them, the exiled “Body Refiners” of the southern city-states, a cult of anatomical engineers whose very
Chapter 28: The Skull Trophy
The Grandmaster’s face fit entirely into Kaelen’s hand.It was less a hand than a pale gold vice, each finger thick as a table leg, folded delicately around the wizard’s mouth, his nose, his eyes, the wet thin skin of his temples. The old man flailed, feet three feet above the floor, arms slapping helplessly against the trunk of Kaelen’s forearm. With one convulsive flex, the Grandmaster triggered every last auto-defense at his disposal: a dozen Tier-8 spell matrices, all preloaded with centuries of counter-assassination enchantment.The shield cascade was like staring into the heart of an arc reactor—layer on layer of burning blue, each with its own flavor of finality. Spheres of light coalesced around the Grandmaster’s head, nested to infinity, as if his skull had become the seed-pearl of a new universe. Mana roared, static burned the air, reality bent at the edges.Kaelen didn’t flinch. He didn’t counter the spells or even acknowledge them. He just squeezed.The first shield popped
Chapter 27: Flesh vs. Grandmaster
The courtyard reeked of ozone, voided bowels, and the cold metal tang of mass murder. The three Royal warships lay in their own smoldering graves, hulls crumpled and venting blue fire; around them, the shattered outlines of mages were smeared across the cobblestones like wet leaves after a monsoon. In the center of it all, a single upright corpse: the Tier-8 Grandmaster, who had somehow refused to die on schedule.He rose from the fuming debris, dragged himself first to his knees, then to his feet. The signature gold-and-crimson robes were shredded, one eye was swollen shut, but the other blazed with something primal. Not hate. Not even triumph. Just a need to not be the last page of his own chapter.Kaelen was already halfway across the yard. He strolled, relaxed, the Eclipse Slab balanced over one shoulder as easily as a schoolyard bat. His
You may also like
The Guardian of Evil Goddess
IEL37.5K viewsDestroyer of the Dao
Evanscapenovel38.0K viewsVengeance of The Reborn Heir
Cindy Chen14.6K viewsBEAST EMPEROR
Xamo33.2K viewsEvolving Infinitely: SSS-Ranked Talent Awakening
Tenzen2.3K viewsThe Sawafin's seal
Samra984 viewsThe Ashen Brotherhood
Kira Thorn342 viewsThe unknown: orb world
Abbatteeh_kudu585 views