2026-05-07 16:25:28
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salvation even for a traitor
Alvin’s mind worked fast, doing a quick evaluation, thoughts snapping together like blades. The grandmaster was wearing a concealment artefact to hide his true cultivation, probably the black cloak draped around his shoulders, drinking in light and truth. There was also no telling how many sick tricks and trump cards he had in his hands. It was better to end things early than to drag it out into an exhausting tug of war, a dance with death that bled minutes he didn’t have. Wasting time would only complicate matters. Most importantly, Aurelio was still home, waiting for him to return, his small face pressed to the window, trusting. The grandmaster’s gaze sharpened beneath the cloak, two coals of malice flaring. “Oh? You’re indeed formidable. Even better. A puppet made from you must be insanely powerful.” Alvin chuckled and disappeared from the spot, escaping from the devious sneak attack the grandmaster had sent, a thread of corrosive qi slicing where his throat had been a heartb
fighting the demonic grandmaster
Alvin stopped beside the girl. She was breathing heavily, a trace of blood by the side of her lips. Eyes defiant but broken — a contradiction that tore at something deep in his chest. He stopped beside her and pulled her outside, away from the others, away from their hate. When they got to a secluded area, he exhaled and looked at her. “Wait here. I will hurry inside and check a few things. I will be back to send you to safety in a short while.” The girl chuckled. A sarcastic, grating sound that went straight to the brain, like nails on bone. Alvin paused, briefly turning to check on her. “You want to bring me to safety? Ridiculous. You should worry about staying alive first.” “I will definitely return,” Alvin snapped back, his voice hard as tempered steel, “and rescue you. Even from yourself.” Something in the girl’s eyes shifted, a crack in the void, and she fisted a handful of her ragged clothes, face drawn into a wince, her groan hanging somewhere around her neck and nev
ESCAPE
Alvin could feel the children’s resentful gazes, and the fear festering around them…thick, acrid, contagious. “Stay still. I won’t let anyone harm you.” His voice was low, iron-clad, a promise forged in blood. With a slight move of his hands, a circle appeared around the kids, barriers of defensive light rising above them like tides called by the moon. He flicked his fingers again, and reinforced shields followed, circling the kids, ready to reflect the attacks, ready to bleed for them if they had to. Inside the barrier, a boy hissed, full of anger, his voice cracking. “Why’s she inside here too? She will just endanger the others.” The girl gave him the side eye but kept silent, her face a blank wall. The rich girl dragged in a shaky breath, face contorting, feeling incredibly wronged. Someone compromised their safety, yet wasn’t kicked out. It sat in her throat like glass. A sixteen-year-old boy pointed at the traitor, his finger shaking. “I’ve got my eyes on you. If you t
SHE'S DAMAGED
Alvin’s heart stopped, a dead, cold stall in his chest, and he looked back at the children shivering in fear. A greater percentage of them were putting on brave faces, trying not to show the visceral fear tearing through them, shredding them from the inside out. “Don’t be afraid. I will protect you all. You just need to keep up with my pace.” His voice was low, steady. An anchor in a sea of panic. Unlike the first batch, this group of captured kids were mostly teens with the youngest around ten years old. So there were no crying babies to be comforted. Everyone had a rough idea of what was expected of them to ensure they left safely. Fear had taught them faster than any teacher ever could. Alvin stopped mid-way. “Wait here.” He zoomed out, toward the approaching soldiers, a black streak against the dark. Two minutes later, he returned, blood dripping from the dagger in his left hand, each drop hitting the ground like a clock counting down. “Hurry, more are coming.” The kid
TRAITOR
Alvin’s heart skipped, a brutal, physical jolt in his chest. He turned to the kid. “Be quiet.” The fifteen-year-old boy clamped a palm over the mouth of the child who screamed, his own eyes wide, swimming in raw, undiluted terror. Alvin sent out primal fire from his solar physique, white-hot, merciless, born of a star’s rage, alongside loaded syringes that tore through the air like bullets into the bodies of the corpse soldiers blocking them. Only low growls followed, wet and inhuman, before the corpse soldiers turned into piles of ashes, collapsing without even the grace of a death cry. The children were trembling behind him, fear rooted so deeply in their hearts it had become part of their marrow, part of their bones. “Let’s move. They must have noticed something is wrong.” His voice was low, edged with iron. He moved a long, loose rope around the waist of each child, connecting them in a neat line to himself to ensure no one got left behind. It wasn’t tight enough to make
Moving in the chaos
Alvin knew waiting for cars to come out and slip in wouldn’t work again. They’d adapted. He had to be faster. “As I move, blind the cameras while I flash through. Don’t take long enough for them to know something is wrong.” He tapped Ryker and gave him a subtle nod — not reassurance, but command. Using his memory of the villa’s veins and bones from the system’s map, he zapped to the side where he recalled the security to be a little weaker, a joining point in the formation where two wards met and bickered like tired guards. He soared into the air, diving straight toward the barrier, a pointed, drill-like object clenched in his hand. He pierced through the barrier and dove into the villa headfirst, a bullet of intent. The object punched a hole in the formation, and he passed through like a water current…soundless, shapeless…leaving the barrier to automatically repair itself behind him, sealing shut as if he’d never been there. He rolled on the floor and zoomed in a half-squat u
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