The With-God's Devotion System

Chapter 3

Darius noticed something poking out of Julian’s suit pocket. He waved a finger, using telekinesis. The small velvet box lifted out of Julian's pocket and floated into Darius’s hand.

"What do we have here?" Darius laughed. He popped the box open. The simple silver ring sat inside.

The crowd of elites erupted into loud, mocking laughter.

"Silver? Plain silver?" a woman in the front row laughed, covering her mouth with a fan.

"I wouldn't even put that on my dog," a man chuckled.

Susanna looked at the ring and rolled her eyes in pure disgust. "How pathetic."

Darius took the ring out of the box. He carelessly tossed the velvet box aside. He looked down at Julian, who was still struggling under the crushing weight of the gravity magic.

"A piece of cheap junk for a queen," Darius mocked. "You really are stupid, Null. But let me teach you a lesson about where you belong."

Darius raised his hand. The silver ring floated in the air between them. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Darius sent the ring shooting downward.

It didn't just fall. Darius used his magic to drive the silver ring straight into the back of Julian's right hand.

"Ahhhh!" Julian let out a hoarse cry of pain.

The metal ring dug deep into his flesh, cutting through his skin and hitting the bone of his hand. Warm, red blood instantly pooled on the white marble floor. 

The gravity magic kept Julian pinned, so he couldn't even pull his hand away. He was forced to lie there, bleeding, humiliated, and broken.

Darius squatted down so his face was level with Julian’s. He smiled a cold, shark-like smile.

"Do you understand now, rat?" Darius whispered so only Julian could hear. "She is mine. She was always going to be mine. And you are nothing but the dirt we step on."

Julian breathed heavily. His blood dripped onto the floor. Drip. Drip. He looked up at Darius, his brown eyes burning with a fierce, untamed hatred. He didn't look at Susanna anymore. She was dead to him. But Darius... Julian memorized this man's face.

"I'll... kill you," Julian gasped out, his voice a low, raspy growl. "One day... I'll rip that magic out of your throat."

Darius’s smile vanished. His eyes turned cold and completely dead. The wealthy aristocrat stood back up and dusted off his perfect white suit, even though there was no dirt on it.

"Brave words for a dead man," Darius said loudly. He turned to the shadows near the back of the room. "Guards."

From the dark corners of the ballroom, four men stepped forward. They did not look like normal security. They were "Shadow-Guards"—elite assassins used by the rich families to do their dirty work. They wore dark leather armor and dark masks that covered the lower half of their faces. Their eyes were cold and empty.

"Take out the trash," Darius commanded casually, waving his hand as if he were asking a waiter to clear a dirty plate. "Throw him in the Rift. Let the Miasma eat him."

Susanna gasped slightly at the mention of the Rift, but she quickly looked away, taking a sip of her wine. She didn't say a word to stop it. She simply did not care.

The gravity magic suddenly vanished from Julian’s back. He gasped, sucking air into his burning lungs. He tried to stand, to fight back, to do something.

But a Shadow-Guard moved with impossible speed. Smack!

A heavy, steel-toed boot kicked Julian directly in the ribs. He heard three bones snap instantly. Julian was thrown sideways, sliding across the blood-stained marble floor. Before he could even react, another guard grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back.

Crunch. A fist completely shattered Julian's nose.

The beating was brutal, fast, and completely one-sided. The elites watched in silence. Some smiled. Some turned away because of the blood, but nobody stepped forward to help. It was just a Null. In their eyes, killing a Null was like stepping on a cockroach.

Julian tasted heavy copper in his mouth. He was choking on his own blood. A heavy punch hit his temple, making his vision flash with white light. Another kick hit his stomach, knocking all the air out of him.

He didn't scream. Through the blinding pain, Julian clamped his jaw shut. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg. He just stared at Susanna’s red dress in the distance as his vision slowly turned black.

"Enough," one of the guards muttered. "He's barely breathing. Grab him."

Rough hands grabbed Julian by his ankles. He was completely limp, unable to move a single muscle. His face dragged across the floor. He felt the cold night air hit him as they dragged him out of the grand glass doors of the Arcane Academy.

He was pulled down the beautiful white stone steps, leaving a thick, dark trail of his own blood behind him.

His mind was fading. The pain was becoming a dull, distant throb. Is this how I die? he thought blindly. Betrayed. Beaten like a dog. Forgotten.

The guards dragged him for what felt like hours, though it was only a few minutes in the back of a speeding, magical transport cart. 

When the cart stopped, rough hands grabbed his collar and dragged him across rough, dry dirt.

Julian forced his swollen eyes open. Through the blurry haze, he saw where he was.

The edge of the city.

Erlingland was built on a massive floating plateau, surrounded by the Miasma Rift—a bottomless canyon filled with highly toxic, flesh-eating magical fog. 

The fog glowed with an eerie, sickly green light. It rolled and boiled like an ocean of acid. Criminals and monsters were thrown down there. Nothing ever came back up.

"One... two..." a guard counted, holding Julian by his arms. Another guard held his legs.

They were swinging him over the edge of the cliff.

Julian looked up at the dark, starless sky. He thought of his younger sister, Maya, lying sick in their terrible apartment. Who would buy her medicine now? Who would protect her?

“I can't die,” his mind screamed. “I can't!”

"Three!" the guards grunted together.

They let go.

Julian Blake was thrown into the empty air. For a split second, he hung in the cold night sky. Then, gravity took him.

He plummeted downward into the dark abyss. The wind roared in his ears like a screaming monster. The sickly green fog rushed up to meet him, swallowing his broken body whole. The cold, toxic magic wrapped around him, burning his skin like acid.

He was falling into hell. And as his eyes rolled back in his head, his world went completely black.