[: 3rd POV :]

The chamber quaked as Daniel's words faded, leaving only silence and the heavy weight of inevitability.

Then..

*Vwoom*

From the space itself, spears erupted into existence.

Not crafted of steel nor bound by mortal forges, but born of destruction and decay incarnate.

Each one radiated an aura that stripped the air of warmth, their shafts forged from shadows that seemed to gnaw at reality, their tips glowing with the corrosive light of annihilation.

They hovered in the air, dozens of them, spinning slowly, humming with lethal resonance.

It was the essence of erasure itself.

Each symbol whispered ruin, each hum promised erasure.

The mercenaries and guild members froze, their weapons slackening in their hands.

Even their terror gave way to awe, their gazes caught in the spectacle.

"W-What… what is that…?" a mage breathed, his staff slipping from his fingers.

The silver-haired elf's voice cracked, her bow lowering unconsciously.

"Those aren't spells… that's something else…"

Walter, blood running down his cheek, could only grit his teeth, his eyes locked on Daniel.

"This…isn't the work of a man..."

The statues moved, faceless heads turning, their red-stone eyes flickering with an alien light.

They sensed it.

They knew.

Even without emotion, their twitching movements betrayed something that looked eerily like fear.

And then, in less than a heartbeat...

*Fwoosh—SCHK! SCHK! SCHK!*

The spears fired.

Faster than sight, faster than thought, they tore across the chamber.

Each one found its mark with precision no mortal arm could muster.

The impact did not sound like steel striking stone—it was the sound of worlds unraveling, the scream of existence denied.

One statue was skewered through its chest, the crimson light in its eyes shattering like glass before the decay spread outward.

Another had its head pierced, and the runes of ruin devoured it whole, the body collapsing inward as though reality itself rejected its presence.

Dozens more fell in perfect unison, spears piercing them through limbs, torsos, necks.

Wherever the weapons touched, decay blossomed like wildfire.

Stone, flesh, and whatever alien substance they were made of disintegrated instantly, their forms breaking down not into dust, but into nothing.

Not death, not destruction, but erasure.

One by one, the towering beings crumbled into the abyss, their fragments collapsing into silence, swallowed by a place beyond void, beyond oblivion.

They were returned to a realm so empty, so absolute, that even nothing did not exist there.

All of it had happened in a span so brief that even the Guild Master, prepared for treachery and bloodshed, had failed to react.

One moment, the statues had moved with murderous intent; the next, they were simply… gone.

The air itself felt wrong, like reality had skipped a heartbeat.

Dust and echoes lingered where towering monstrosities had stood, and yet there was nothing to bury, nothing to mourn—only silence.

The mercenaries could only watch, paralyzed by awe and terror.

What… just happened…?" one of the guild members finally managed, his voice hoarse, trembling.

His words cracked open the dam of uncertainty.

Murmurs spread among the survivors, each one more frantic than the last.

"I—I saw them vanish."

"No… they didn't vanish. I swear they weren't destroyed, they were… gone."

"I felt it. My life… it was slipping. A moment ago, I knew I was about to die. And then…"

Their confusion twisted with fear, for the memory of looming death still clung to their bones.

Just moments ago, their throats had tightened, their souls had felt the cold grasp of inevitability.

Now, that pressure had vanished—but only because the threat had been swallowed whole by something far greater.

"They… they're gone…" one whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

The dwarf lowered his axe, his chest heaving.

"What did he just do...? He didn't just kill 'em. He unmade 'em."

The elf's hands trembled around her bow. Her lips moved, but the only word that escaped was a hushed, fearful prayer.

The Guild Master clenched his fists, eyes darting to Daniel with a mix of fury and dread.

He didn't understand what he had just witnessed, and that very ignorance gnawed at him more viciously than any blade.

Arcturus, still kneeling before the altar, turned slowly.

His wild grin faltered, replaced for the first time with hesitation.

His voice cracked, disbelief dripping through his madness.

"Impossible… they were fragments of His will… they were eternal!"

Daniel stood silent, his figure veiled in the afterglow of the annihilation.

His eyes, cold and unwavering, met Arcturus's trembling stare.

The void-born spears dissolved into motes of black light, fading into the silence they had carved.

The chamber, once filled with chaos and screams, now stood still—every heart pounding, every breath held.

For they had just witnessed not strength, not magic, but something greater.

The power to deny existence itself.

The Guild Master's hand trembled as he pointed toward Daniel, his voice dripping with disbelief and dread.

"You…" His words cracked like a whip through the heavy silence.

The air around them shifted, charged with tension as every pair of eyes followed the line of his shaking finger.

He could feel it—an aura so alien, so suffocating, it was impossible to ignore.

It was not the oppressive weight of a tyrant, nor the consuming darkness of a demon.

No, this was something deeper, something that gnawed at the edges of existence itself.

"With that kind of aura, there's no way you can hide," the Guild Master declared, his tone wavering between defiance and fear.

"I've been watching you since the very beginning."

His words sent a ripple of unease through the guild members and mercenaries.

Murmurs rose like the buzz of insects in a graveyard, hushed voices questioning what kind of monster had been walking among them all this time.

"For someone so young…" The Guild Master narrowed his eyes, his suspicion sharpening into a blade.

"I can't help but wonder… just who are you?"

Daniel stepped forward, his presence heavier than steel chains and colder than winter's breath.

His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto the Guild Master's.

The faint light of the torches bent strangely around him, as though existence itself strained against his very being.

"Who am I…?" Daniel's voice rang out, calm yet filled with an arrogance that made the others shudder.

There was no hesitation, no uncertainty—only absolute confidence.

His tone was not that of a boy defending himself but of a sovereign declaring truth.

"There's no need for a scumbag like you to know."

The words struck harder than steel.

It was cold and dismissive.

A declaration that the Guild Master was beneath even the luxury of common things.

A hush fell over the chamber.

The mercenaries and guild members stared in stunned silence, their fear turning into something else.

It was something close to reverence.

The Guild Master's lips curled into a twisted smile, though his eyes betrayed the flicker of unease crawling through his chest.

For the first time, he felt the shadow of prey before a hunter.

"Such cheeky words" The Guild Master echoed with a wicked tone.

"Cheeky...?" Daniel muttered, however, the moment he took a step further, everything changed.

"I'm just that confident"

From the back of the group, footsteps echoed against the cold stone floor.

Each step was steady, unhurried, yet it carried a weight that pressed against their hearts.

The murmurs and panic that had lingered moments ago fell into silence, as though the very air demanded it.

Daniel emerged from the behind and moved toward the front.

His figure wasn't glowing, nor did he unleash a storm of killing intent—yet every eye turned to him instinctively, as if drawn by an unseen force.

"Aren't you… Daniel…?" Walter's voice cracked, uncertainty lingering on every syllable.

Daniel's gaze met his, calm and unwavering.

"That's right. I know it's hard to understand," his voice was steady, commanding without effort, "but right now, I need all of you to stand down."

The words rolled through the chamber like an unseen decree.

Walter opened his mouth, his instincts screaming to object.

He didn't want Daniel to fight this battle alone, nor to carry such a burden on his shoulders.

Yet as he looked at Daniel, something stopped him.

It wasn't fear.

It wasn't intimidation.

It was… admiration.

The aura surrounding Daniel was unlike anything they had felt before.

It wasn't suffocating, it wasn't threatening, and yet it left no room for resistance.

It was authority incarnate.

The kind that didn't ask for obedience, it commanded it.

One by one, the others felt it too.

A shiver ran through them, not from dread, but from the sheer weight of presence that radiated from him.

It was as though a king had stepped into their midst.

A sovereign whose will could not be denied.

Even the clinking of armor and the uneven breaths of mercenaries stilled as Daniel passed.

Without a word, the crowd parted before him, forming a clear path.

Step by step, he advanced toward the front.

Every movement was deliberate, every sound of his footfall hammering into their minds.

It was heavy, inevitable and unstoppable.

By the time Daniel reached the front, the silence was absolute.

None dared to speak.

None dared to move.

They could only watch, hearts pounding, as though the moment itself was being rewritten by his presence.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.