“Ah––”
Seraphine’s brow twitched slightly, her tone laced with mockery. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
Sawyer’s thick brows furrowed into an X, his face a mask of severity. He took several steps back, cautiously examining the man he had lived alongside for decades.
The more he observed, the more doubt clouded his eyes.
Seraphine made no move to stop him. She simply stood there, letting him probe as he pleased, the strange smirk on her face deepening.
“You...”
Sawyer began pacing, suspicion now consuming his expression—tinged with disbelief.
Suddenly, he grit his teeth and roared:
“You’re not Abram! Who the hell are you?!!!
You… are you some kind of mental power user?! Are you remotely hijacking his thoughts?!”
“Haha.”
Seraphine let out a delighted laugh. “I have to say, you're sharper than most. Quite the eye for detail.”
With that admission, Sawyer’s eyes widened, his face twisted in a chaotic swirl of joy, fury, and fear.
The joy: his brother might not have betrayed the organization after all—he might’ve just been manipulated.
The fury: that a detestable, low-life mind invader—like that filthy Sorren—had dared to hijack his brother’s consciousness.
The fear: that for the first time, he didn’t know how to get his brother back.
“Hoo––”
Sawyer’s wide nostrils flared violently as he suddenly bellowed:
“Get out of my brother’s body—NOW!!!”
The shout was filled with rage and desperation.
Seraphine remained unbothered, calm as ever. She casually peeled open the shattered fragments of memory within Abram’s mind, methodically reviewing them once more.
From what she could see, before these two brothers awakened their powers and were recruited into the Frankenstein Corporation, their lives hadn’t been much different from those of any other Black urban youth.
They were both born in the Black district of Beaconreach Auto City.
Their mother was a streetwalker.
Their father... simply didn’t exist.
After a youth spent clawing through poverty and grit—
They didn’t have the talent to become hip-hop stars or pro basketball players.
So they became gangsters.
Abram had fared a bit better. Aside from a minor kleptomania, he’d been relatively unremarkable.
But Sawyer was another story.
A bleak, brutal youth—amplified by his gang years—had further twisted an already dark, violent personality.
And yet, he never dared to challenge authority. He only preyed on the powerless.
Street vendors. Cashiers at run-down corner stores. The homeless under city bridges.
To them, Sawyer unleashed the worst of himself.
After one night accidentally torturing and killing a street prostitute, he became obsessed—with blood, with screams.
Sadism became his greatest thrill.
He wouldn’t dare lay hands on a white person.
But the hardworking Emberlight immigrants living in the Black district?
They became his prime targets.
And after climbing out of the gang cesspit and into the Frankenstein Corporation…
He only got worse.
Physical torture. Psychological abuse.
“251 people...”
As Seraphine sifted through the gruesome memories—of the atrocities he committed against the Emberlight people—
Her smile vanished.
Her voice turned frigid.
“Of all people, you’re the one who deserves to be called a monkey the most.”
Sawyer’s eyes flared wide in rage. “What the hell did you just say?!”
Clang clang clang ~
In an instant, his body was coated in slabs of black crystalline glass, like a living obsidian titan. He charged forward like a meteor, hurling himself toward Seraphine, who remained calm and unmoving.
But just as he launched—
Seraphine lightly clapped her hands.
Bang!
In that moment, the massive concrete platform—shrouded in shadows—lurched violently.
Gurgle ~ Gurgle ~ Gurgle ~ Gurgle ~
One after another, black bestial shapes—tiger-like, panther-like—crawled out from the darkness. Their bodies shivered, silent roars trembling in their throats, as they leapt toward Sawyer with lethal precision.
Shadow Beasts—summoned and manifested by Seraphine through her Shadow Domain.
“Grrrr!”
Seeing the horde of beasts racing toward him, Sawyer’s eyes nearly popped from their sockets. He roared and raised his muscular, semi-translucent arms wreathed in dark light, slamming them forward in rapid succession.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each beast that lunged at him was smashed apart, disintegrating into swirling wisps of shadow that dissolved into the air.
But behind them came more. And more.
A few. Dozens. Hundreds.
In seconds, thousands of black beasts were crawling out from the pitch-dark Shadow Domain spread across the ground—rushing Sawyer in waves, never-ending.
Eventually, he was completely buried by the sheer mass of Shadow Beasts.
Their bodies blurred, melting and merging together into a single, massive form that enveloped him completely.
From a distance…
It looked as if a small, jet-black mountain had swallowed Sawyer whole.
And then—
The surface of the “Shadow Mountain” began to ripple.
Suddenly, seven or eight whirring, drill-tipped tentacles burst forth, spinning rapidly. They hovered for a moment… then turned inward—
And began to bore straight into Sawyer’s body.
Hissss–– ssskkk–– FZZZZ–––
Screeching friction echoed violently through the empty harbor.
But in the very next moment—
Whizz––!
A crimson beam, no wider than a finger, pierced clean through one of the spinning drills, tearing the tentacle apart.
Then came a second. A third. A fourth.
Within just two seconds, dozens of crimson beams had erupted from within the mountain, blasting outward in every direction.
For a heartbeat, it looked like a massive crimson lotus blooming in the middle of the harbor.
“ROOOAR!!!”
A monstrous roar exploded from inside the black mass.
Rip–rip–rip–rip–rip––
The shadowy mass wrapped around Sawyer was torn apart and blown away like smoke.
There he stood—his obsidian-like body glistening under the fading dark light.
“HAHAHAHA!! I can absorb kinetic and thermal energy without limit! I can even turn it into power!”
Sawyer threw back his head and let out a savage laugh.
“Every attack you throw at me just makes me stronger!”
“Oh, is that so?”
Seraphine smiled softly. “Then I’m glad.”
And with that—
Centered on Sawyer.
Everything within several hundred meters—the ground, the walls, even the ocean surface—began to ripple and pulse.
One after another, black heavy Miniguns burst into existence, forming a mechanical ring of death.
Tat-tat-tat––
Tat-tat-tat––
Each gun swiveled on its own, alive and breathing, locking onto Sawyer like a predator stalking prey.
Behind them, thick cords of black muscle began to sprout—twitching with barely restrained force. The fibers pulsed as Dragonwave force surged through them, rippling the surrounding air with waves of pure pressure.
Hum—hum—hum—
As tens of thousands of force nodes layered over one another, the very air in the harbor grew heavy—crushing.
“…What the fuck.”
Even Sawyer froze.
Even he—cocky, unflinching—went stiff under the aim of thousands of battlefield-grade meat grinders.
If they were normal guns, he wouldn’t even blink.
But these were Miniguns, capable of firing over 600 rounds per minute.
And though they were pitch black, Sawyer—who knew weapons inside and out—recognized them instantly.
“...Abram’s power can conjure objects, but even at full strength, he could only summon cold weapons—nothing this twisted. You—who the hell are you?!”
Sawyer growled through clenched teeth. “How the hell are you doing this?!”
From afar, Seraphine’s voice was calm and clear:
“There’s no absolute hierarchy in superpowers. Your view of the world is far too small.”
“Given your history, I won’t let you die quickly. That would be far too merciful.”
And with that—
The towering forest of Miniguns, aimed directly at Sawyer’s stunned form, all opened fire—simultaneously.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!!!
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Bullets infused with Dragonwave force rained down like a hurricane.
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack––!!!
The roar of gunfire shattered the silence—shook the air—smashed into bone.
Tens of thousands of bullets slammed into Sawyer’s body every second.
And each one, carrying a poisonous strain of Dragonwave force, bypassed his outer shell and stabbed directly into his nervous system—into his soul.
“AHHHH!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!!”
Sawyer collapsed—convulsing on the ground, body seizing under the torrential onslaught of DLC Minigun bullets.
To him, these weren’t mere bullets.
They were pure agony. Each round struck like a spike through the soul.
From afar, Seraphine’s voice drifted in cold and casual:
“The World Health Organization once classified human pain into levels.
Level 1: Mild pain. Tolerable. Doesn’t disrupt life.
Level 2: Moderate. Needs painkillers.
Level 3: Severe. Unbearable without strong medication.”
“But what you’re feeling now… is being chopped, hammered, axed, needled, flayed, eviscerated, dissolved in acid, burned alive, frozen, electrocuted—all at once.
Every kind of torture, multiplied ten thousand times, all within the same second.”
Seraphine’s tone was serene:
“What you did to those 251 Emberlight souls...
I’m simply helping them return the favor—tenfold.”
But Sawyer couldn’t hear a word.
The pain was too immense.
His mind was fracturing—his body trembling uncontrollably.
In a daze, it felt like the world around him was melting away.
It wasn’t real.
It was a torment that tore straight into the soul—melting his brain, disintegrating his nerves.
He wasn’t in the harbor anymore.
He had fallen.
Fallen into a private hell made entirely of suffering.
And it had no exit.
Every passing second, Sawyer endured agony beyond the grasp of ordinary human comprehension.
And it never stopped.
Every second stretched like an eternity.
Pain—raw, pure, and infinite—consumed him.
A living hell composed entirely of suffering wrapped around his consciousness, refusing to let go.
"You're not imagining things."
A voice—cold and merciless—stabbed directly into Sawyer’s heart.
"I've accelerated your perception of time by thirty-three times."
"For every real second, you're experiencing half a minute."
"So take your time... Savor it. Let this torment slowly grind your soul into dust."
Clack clack clack clack clack clack——
Sawyer, still buried under the endless torrent of black Dragonwave-infused bullets, twitched and spasmed violently. He looked like a late-stage Parkinson's patient, thrashing uncontrollably on the ground, his screams raw and broken.
“AHHHH!!! AHHHHHHH!!!”
He could no longer speak. No longer think.
The pain had hollowed him out.
And within Seraphine’s spiritual sight, Sawyer’s soul was beginning to fracture—crushed beneath the unbearable emotion labeled as 【Pain】.
His inner spirit, once flickering weakly, now flared violently—
And then shattered completely.
In that instant, a nearly tangible spark of innate spirituality burst from his physical shell.
And just as it was about to vanish into nothingness, Seraphine—waiting in silence from afar—seized it with her spiritual power.
The Eye of True Revelation and Chaos Calculation activated instantly, scanning and analyzing the data embedded within this final trace of Sawyer’s 【Mind】.
The process was immediate.
And the next moment—
Far beyond Earth, somewhere in the dark sea of stars...
Seraphine’s main body slowly opened her eyes.
Hummmm —
Inside her vast mindscape—an infinite Ocean of Knowledge—at the very center of this metaphysical realm…
The tiny, flickering 【Mind】 fish, finally nourished by this final spark of cognition, began to mature.
It swelled. It grew.
Whoosh ~
The now plump little fish leapt joyfully from the water’s surface—
And soared toward the celestial sky above, where the data model of 【Martial Saint】 hovered in the firmament.
BOOM —
The heavens shook violently.
Thousands of brilliant sparks of insight exploded outward like a celestial firework.
The crescent moon hanging high in that mental sky—representing incomplete understanding—instantly expanded into a colossal full moon of blinding white.
And then—
That great moon, glowing with jade-like radiance, plunged down from the sky into the Ocean of Knowledge below.
RUMBLE!!!
The surface of the sea exploded with a deafening roar as the moon crashed into it, spawning a massive vortex.
The entire ocean seemed to boil.
Currents of knowledge spun and twisted around the impact crater, turning into chaotic whirlpools of wisdom. From within that churning abyss, dense white mist surged out in plumes, covering the sky and darkening the waters below.
Through this torrent of fragmented data—
Seraphine learned something vital.
The 【Martial Saint Method】 would now be fully formed.
In just twenty-four hours, it would be born.
All that remained was to wait.
"So… the Frankenstein Corporation’s main headquarters is buried deep in a trench in the Pacific Ocean? Tucked away beneath the waves?"
Her gaze narrowed.
"Once I break through the Ninth Heaven’s Gate… I’ll strip that base clean."
And as she calmly absorbed the last of the scattered memory fragments—
Seraphine came to a final realization:
The place she had been calling the Spiritual Dimension, the Psychic Dimension… those terms were far too limited.
The true name—
Was 【Realm of Innate Sentience】.
Or simply:
【Sentience Realm】
A space where the raw, instinctive awareness of all living beings across the universe converged.
Mental power, spiritual force—these were not separate.
They were both emanations of the same core origin: the fundamental spirit of life.
And so—
Sentience Realm was the only name worthy of it.
Seraphine’s gaze shifted toward Earth once more.
Dawn had broken on the Divine Continent.
Within a remote, hidden valley in the Emberlight Empire…
Two opposing forces stood at a standoff.
One side: Kael, Seraphine’s second disciple.
The other: a faction of rugged, elder martial artists—scarred veterans exuding powerful, surging auras.
The recent Ether Tide had unearthed long-buried titans from the ancient Martial World—most of them Evershield Body-level experts, some even stronger.
From the front stepped a hulking, fire-wreathed elder, veins glowing beneath sun-darkened skin.
He pointed his calloused finger at Kael and shouted with fury:
“Demon Blade Kael! You’ve ‘sparred’ with over a dozen sects—more than sixty-seven martial artists dead, another hundred crippled! WHAT are you trying to prove?!”
Kael raised his brows, stroking the blade of his saber with an amused expression.
“What am I after?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m just here to compete. Why else would I waste time with weaklings like you?”
The insult landed like a slap.
The crowd erupted.
“How dare you!”
“Insane!”
“Monster!”
“Demonic freak!!”
Another old master, this one cloaked in frost and radiating blue light, stepped forward. Snowflakes danced around him.
His voice was glacial:
“If every sparring match were as deadly as yours, the Emberlight Martial Arts World would’ve collapsed centuries ago!”
“That’s right!”
“Exactly!”
“He’s right!”
Kael let out a sharp, disdainful laugh.
“Sparring? Hah… Honestly, when in the entire history of Emberlight martial arts has anyone ever cared about holding back?”
“If you don't go all out—how the hell do you know who's stronger?”
“How do you push yourself? Advance your path?”
“Even the Martial Arts Convention—don’t lie to yourselves—you know it's all about crippling or killing.”
Stroking the keen edge of his blade, Kael spoke slowly, a trace of scorn curling on his lips:
"Those weaklings… I even suppressed my cultivation below theirs, and they still couldn’t handle a single strike. Since they’re so useless, why not help me..."
He raised his head, casting his gaze over the dozens of martial artists ahead, a frigid smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"...refine my blademanship?"
The moment his words landed, the crowd exploded.
"Arrogant bastard!"
"You demonic scum!"
"He's possessed—he’s gone mad!"
Kael tilted his head, watching the group who only dared to curse but never stepped forward. He sneered with disdain:
"So much barking—are you practicing martial arts, or just your mouths?
Relax. Even if I am killed here, Master won’t lift a finger. She’ll just see it as my own shame.
After all... isn’t she the one you’re all afraid of?"
The martial artists flinched.
They exchanged glances, doubt flaring into conviction.
"Is that true?"
"Her Highness, the successor... she's always decisive. This sounds like her."
"In that case, we don’t need to show mercy to this demon brat. Let’s strike together!"
"Agreed!"
"Let’s finish him!"
They were just gearing up, fists clenched, expressions grim—
Hum––
In that moment, the sky behind Kael—the deep azure above—began to tremble.
Without warning, a tear in the heavens split open silently.
The world shifted.
Winds roared. Thunder cracked.
Clouds that had once floated lazily now twisted and churned into a swirling vortex, massive and growing by the second. The whole sky dimmed under its pull.
Rumble––
A cosmic whirlpool spiraled open behind Kael. Gales howled across the land, tearing up dust, straw, and even the earth beneath their feet. The very trees in the valley began to quake.
"What... what is that?!"
All eyes turned past Kael, staring in dread at the rift widening behind him.
And then—
"Kael––"
A voice thundered down from the heavens. It rolled like divine decree—vast, commanding, eternal.
The martial artists clutched their heads as their ears rang.
"Master!"
Kael’s eyes lit up in joy and awe. He looked to the sky and laughed aloud, "What does Master wish of her humble disciple?"
"Come up and speak."
The vortex pulsed in response. The swirling clouds split apart, revealing not more sky—but a great cosmic void, starlit and deep.
It was space itself.
Hum––
A colossal telekinetic force descended like the hand of a god, wrapping around Kael, lifting him from the ground toward the vortex.
But just a few meters off the earth, Kael raised a hand.
"Master, wait a moment."
The force halted.
"What is it?"
Kael grinned and looked back down at the martial artists frozen in disbelief.
"Gentlemen. I've been a little... excessive lately. Killed a few too many, maybe.
So here’s the deal: I’ll strike once. If anyone survives it, I’ll spare their sect forevermore. Fair?"
Silence.
All of them turned toward the vortex—the sheer vastness of it, the boundless cosmic energy emanating from its depths—and suddenly realized how small they were.
The idea of killing Kael felt laughable now.
"Well then," Kael said, stepping back onto the earth as the telekinetic grip released, flexing his neck. He lifted his blade with one hand and flashed them a toothy smile.
"Brace yourselves."
"Heaven’s Will Severance — 99th Layer!"
Bang!!!
BOOM!!
Saber Qi exploded outward in blinding waves.
Kael launched into the sky, his body consumed by a tidal wave of silver light—only to morph into a massive, blade-scaled dragon.
Every inch of it was formed from pure saber qi.
It had the face of a god and the fangs of a monster, its gleaming scales razor-sharp, and blades arched along its back like the spines of a celestial beast.
Just looking at it made the soul shudder—like being sliced apart by ten thousand heavenly blades.
Clang! Clang! Clang! BOOM!
The Silver Dragon tore through the sky.
Every gust of wind, every shard of earth—was annihilated by his bladed passage.
Crack!! Crack!! Crack!!
In the blink of an eye, everything within hundreds of meters—
Shattered.
The ground burst apart, torn by ravines and chasms.
Whoosh––
The saber storm dissipated.
Kael landed gently, alone.
The martial artists who’d once roared for his death… had been reduced to drifting ash, their blood evaporated in the air.
Not a single one had survived.
Seeing the matter resolved, Kael launched into the sky again. The air exploded beneath his feet in successive shockwaves as he soared toward the great vortex.
As he entered the swirling void, he noticed something peculiar.
“All the surrounding air is vanishing…”
But he remained unfazed.
At his level, a vacuum meant little.
What did surprise him—
“So Master... actually created a vacuum tunnel from the cosmos to the ground using pure telekinetic force...?”
Hum––
While Kael was marveling, that majestic telekinetic force descended once more, wrapping around his body—
And hurled him upward toward the stars.
Because there was no air resistance, Kael’s ascent speed continued to skyrocket.
Mach 1, Mach 3, Mach 10, Mach 30, Mach 100...
In just over ten seconds, his velocity had climbed to a level where even with his current physique, he began to feel slightly dizzy.
One minute later—
Kael had traversed over a thousand kilometers, pierced through the atmosphere, and entered the vast, boundless vacuum of space.
Beneath his feet was the massive, slowly rotating Earth.
And high above, Seraphine sat cross-legged, her expression serene and unshaken.
“How beautiful,” Kael whispered.
He gazed at the endless cosmos around him, unable to stop himself from sighing in admiration. “No wonder Master seems more and more ethereal. If anyone sat cross-legged in the infinite void like this for long, they’d turn out the same.”
Just then, another figure was pulled through the atmosphere by Seraphine’s telekinetic force, streaking through the void until he stopped beside Kael.
It was Vale.
The two now stood atop a vast, invisible platform condensed from Seraphine’s telekinesis.
Seeing both disciples present, Seraphine—her nearly imperceptible presence fused deeply with the cosmic void—slowly opened her eyes.
Hum––
In the silence of space, it felt as though a second sun had suddenly appeared.
Blinding light and searing heat radiated outward in every direction.
For a moment, the two disciples felt as if they were standing before the true sun itself.
Seraphine looked toward Kael, her spiritual power swelling as she transmitted a message directly to him:
“Fourth layer of the Aether Domain. Not bad. It seems you haven’t been slacking.”
Kael opened his mouth to respond—then realized he couldn’t make a sound in the vacuum. At a loss for how to answer—
Hum––
A Real Number Channel opened nearby, gushing out a large volume of breathable air and forming a localized atmosphere several hundred meters across.
Hoo...
The two disciples exhaled in relief, breathing easily once more.
Seraphine turned to Vale and sighed softly.
“Still circling outside the Phantom Armament. With your aptitude... it will be difficult.”
Hearing the faint disappointment in his master’s voice, Vale’s face flushed red. He stammered:
“Disciple... disciple’s aptitude is low...”
Seraphine shook her head. “That’s fine.”
She flicked her fingers, and a beam of brilliant light shot into the center of Vale’s forehead.
Vale’s mind roared like thunder.
A vast torrent of information flooded his consciousness, and a new cultivation technique instantly condensed in his memory.
“Phantom Arcane Body.”
“This technique will refine your physical body into a Phantasm Demon Body—an existence between illusion and reality.
“Once activated, your true form will partially dissolve into the Sentience Realm beyond material space.
“You’ll gain the ability to phase through walls, burrow underground, transmit thoughts like telepathy, and even teleport short distances via the Sentience Realm.
“Conventional attacks—whether martial, magical, supernatural, or even missile barrages—will hardly harm you. Even if injured, you’ll recover rapidly.
“Ghostly, untouchable, and elusive... this technique suits your path perfectly.”
Vale felt his body begin to shift and transform. Just as he sensed that he could now break into the Aether Phantom Armament Realm at any moment, his eyes reddened.
He knelt in the void, choked with emotion, and sobbed:
“This disciple could die a thousand deaths and still not repay Master’s grace!”
Beside him, Kael scratched his head sheepishly and chuckled.
“Uh... Master? What about me...?”
Seraphine gave a faint snort and smiled. “How could I forget you?”
She pointed, and another beam of light shot into Kael’s forehead.
In an instant, a different technique materialized in his mind.
“Dominion of Bloodsteel.”
“This art allows you to materialize and weaponize your killing intent. It can be drawn into your body to fortify your physical strength—or suspended outside your body and combined with your energy field for various attacks and manipulations.
“Techniques include Killing Intent Perception, Killing Intent Bombardment, and Killing Intent Torrent.
“With this, you need never fear group battles. The more enemies you face, the stronger the killing intent, the faster your cultivation, the sharper your combat state. Truly a supreme slaughter technique.”
“Both of these methods are sufficient to reach the pinnacle of the Energy Field Realm. With dedication, it’s not impossible to glimpse higher realms beyond.”
“Whoooaaah!”
Kael leapt up like a monkey, flipping through the air with three consecutive somersaults before landing and kneeling in the void, bowing three times in quick succession.
“Master’s grace! A thousand deaths couldn’t repay it!”
Vale: “...That sounds oddly familiar.”
After the laughter and excitement faded, Seraphine’s expression turned serious.
“This time, I have a mission for you.”
As she spoke, divine light flashed in her eyes.
She transmitted location data directly into their minds—coordinates for all of Frankenstein Corporation’s subsidiary bases on the Beaconreach continent.
“I want both of you to destroy all twelve of these bases.”
“But—do not damage any technical data stored within.”
As she finished, Seraphine sent two strands of spiritual energy into their bodies—barely perceptible, but capable of analyzing their real-time location.
This would allow her to send an clone at any moment if the situation demanded.
“Understood!”
Kael and Vale responded in unison.
They didn’t ask what these bases were for, or what the technical data entailed.
None of it mattered.
To them, their master’s command was absolute—greater than heaven itself.
At this point, Seraphine added coldly:
“Although I could destroy all these bases with a single thought, for you, this will be a genuine test.
“Even so—if you die during this mission, it will simply prove that you were worthless.”
“Understood?!”
“Understood!” they shouted together.
“Good.”
Seraphine nodded.
“Now go. To Beaconreach. To slaughter and destroy.”
With that, a Real Number Channel opened, and the two disciples were swallowed up, vanishing into the void.
Seraphine slowly drew her consciousness back—
Shifting her focus to the spiritual projection stationed at the Losngel City base far away.

