"Bastard," the red-eyed slave threw a punch at Mr. Valen, his fist flashing with the unnatural strength of a red-eyed Wizard, but he was evaded without issue.

The red-eyed slave was tall and broad-shouldered, his knuckles scarred from years of brutal enforcement. His face was a bit rough, but he looked sharp.

'Who is this man?' the slave thought to himself, wondering what reward he would receive for turning him in.

With a grunt, he lunged again, his fist a blur as the air tore, but the masked thief, Mr. Valen, moved like a shadow, his body swaying just enough to let the strike whistle past his ear.

"Who are you?" the red-eyed slave snarled, pivoting into a crushing elbow aimed at Valen's throat, his breath shallow.

'He is much weaker than Cerberus,' Mr. Valen thought but did not answer.

Instead, he exhaled, his breath slow, controlled and his body relaxed into the violence, 'since he's so weak I can afford to test myself, minimize destruction.'

At that moment, the elbow came, but Mr. Valen tilted his head, letting it graze his mask, he then stepped into the red-eyed slave's space, his own elbow rising in a brutal, upward strike.

"CRACK!"

The slave's jaw shattered, blood spraying into the air, sending him staggering back, but Valen was already flowing forward, his fingers lacing behind the man's neck—

"YANK!"

A merciless knee shot up, crushing the slave's ribs with a sickening crack that displayed the gap in physical ability. The man gasped, his red eyes widening in shock.

'This kind of strength, it's impossible for any green-eyed Wizard, and he's not using any flame spells!' The red-eyed slave was alarmed.

This wasn't just a thief, this was something else. Using this brief moment of distraction, Mr. Valen's hands slid down, to grip the slave's wrist-

"TWIST!"

The joint popped, tendons snapping like overstretched rope. The slave screamed, or tried to scream, but Mr. Valen silenced him with a palm strike to the nose, driving bone into brain with sheer physical strength

The slave reeled, blood gushing down his face, but he was still standing, still fighting.

'Fascinating, I've managed to wound him so severely while limiting his ability to act, and yet he's still standing, no normal human would have survived with the amount of force I used,' Mr. Valen mused.

It would seem that red-eyed Wizards did not die easily.

"Vímata Psevdésthisis!" The man suddenly chanted, shocking Mr. Valen into attention, the whites in his eyes being eroded by complete blackness.

With a guttural roar, the slave flashed before him like a picture, his speed almost tripling, as he swung his good arm in a wild haymaker.

"Whoosh!"

Mr. Valen ducked, letting the force carry the man off-balance, his own speed nothing short of unreasonable.

"Bam!"

He stepped on the slave's knee, while controlling himself, lest his tail grow out, the blackness in his eyes receding.

"Argh!" The slave groaned in agony, his leg bent backward as he collapsed, but Mr. Valen was already behind him, one arm snaking around his throat in a cold, clinical chokehold.

There was no wasted motion, no hesitation.

«Definitely even Wizards require oxygen.»

Immediately, the slave began thrashing, clawing at Mr. Valen's arm, his fingers digging into flesh drawing black blood.

But despite the pain being inflicted, Mr. Valen did not let go, his grip was like iron, his eyes calm as the slave's face darkened, veins bulging as his oxygen was cut off.

"Who… sent… you?" the slave choked out, his voice a wet rasp, but Mr. Valen did not answer, he just squeezed.

"CRUNCH!"

The slave's windpipe collapsed, his struggles weakening his red eyes dimming, and then, with one final, shuddering gasp, he went still.

Feeling this, Mr. Valen held the choke for three more seconds, then he let the body drop.

The fight had lasted longer than he'd anticipated. Fortunately, he had managed to minimize the damage to his surroundings, as intended.

They had fought in a secluded passageway, drawing little attention to themselves because of the way they had fought.

Around him, the chaos of the tower continued, screams, alarms, the roar of battle, but they sounded distant. He had not noticed it before, but this part of the tower seemed different from the halls he had traversed before.

Mr. Valen adjusted his mask, his green eyes scanning the corridor, which seemed abandoned, slightly unkept.

"Help. Me." The voice whispered again, but this time it was stronger, seeping from a wall to his side.

Slowly, Mr. Valen then walked towards that wall, and as he drew closer, the walls opened like a maw, each slab of stone rearranging itself to reveal the endless darkness beyond.

"Help. Me." The voice urged, the sound clearly coming from the void before him.

And without a word, Mr. Valen then stepped into the void, his form disappearing as the bricks closed behind him.

-------

Meanwhile, outside, amid the endless rain, the grey-haired pirate captain laughed hysterically as she watched the few surviving newbies dive from the island into the churning sea in an effort to make it back on board.

Of the many who had boarded the island, only a measly few had returned, struggling every step of the way.

Nevertheless, she didn't seem worried about their fate; it was the way things were, the strong and fortunate would survive, while the weak would perish.

'Such is the way of the black sea,' The Captain thought, closing her eyes and taking in a misty breath.

"Ready the harpoons! Let's give those tower-dwelling rats one more reason to-" she suddenly barked opening her eyes, her voice cutting through the storm, ready to order a pullback now that the main objective was likely complete.

But her command died in her throat, as she felt her hair stand on end.

To blame for this was a phenomenon that caught attention immediately, not hers but everyone who had eyes.

The air before the prow of the ship had begun to shimmer in a way that was far from natural, horribly wrong.

Space itself seemed to fold, and from that space a figure coalesced out of nothingness.

It was Vlorine, the purple-eyed Witch, floating serenely in mid-air. The raging storm seemed to quieten in her presence, but the sea raged on.

The ship was constantly charging forward, moving at high speed around the island, yet the petite woman remained perfectly positioned before its prow.

No one on the ship or above dared attack as a palpable terror seized the crew who waited for an order from their captain.

The pirate Captain's grin vanished, replaced by a tense, wary stiffness. Her glowing blue eyes widened slightly, but make no mistake, she held her ground, perched on her flagpole.

"I may not be as strong as ya," the captain immediately blurted out, her voice tight, losing its earlier bravado, "but ya can't kill me immediately. Not without consequence. If we were to shed these shells and use our void bodies, we would probably kill all the normal people around us. Which isn't good for anyone now, is it... Vlorine, the Witch of Shattered Space?"

At her words, a heavy silence reigned, broken only by distant thunder and the groaning ship under the pressure of the crashing waves.

Vlorine's expression was unreadable, her purple eyes regarding the pirate as one might regard an interesting insect.

But she did regard her, so finally, she spoke, her voice calm yet carrying an immense, crushing weight. "Do not flatter yourself... Captain, a fight with you is beneath me. I have no intention of expending the effort-"

She suddenly paused, the void around them growing colder as she continued. "-I will ask a question. You will answer. If you lie, or if I dislike your answer, I will kill you. I will kill your crew. And I will shatter this vessel and scatter its pieces across a dozen realities. The collateral damage would be... unfortunate, but a negligible price for my curiosity. Do you understand?"

'We're going to die,' one of the onlookers, a short pirate in charge of heaving, though, as he observed.

The pirate captain, on the other hand, swallowed hard, and without speaking, she gave a single, sharp nod. 'We're at the same level, why can't I muster the courage,' she screamed in her mind.

Vlorine seemed pleased by her compliance, her voice devoid of emotion as she asked, "Has the Unmaker awakened?"

Her question incited a wild, desperate laugh from the pirate captain's lips, (false bravado in the face of her crew). "The signs are everywhere. This time around, the Unmaker will succeed in cleansing the world; our Pirate queen will make sure of it."

At the mention of the "Pirate Queen," a flicker of something: (recognition, caution, perhaps even a sliver of respect) passed through Vlorine's impassive purple eyes, but it was there for only a fraction of a second.

After that moment Vlorine responded, "I see," and without another word, her form began to unravel, unfolding from existence in such a way that the space where she had been snapped back into place with a soft thump of displaced air.

The pirate captain remained frozen for a long moment, but she recovered quickly, slowly unclenching her fists, unaware that she had been holding them so tight.

"Captain?" one of her first mates called out, his voice trembling.

In response to this noise, the grey-haired captain shook herself, the old bravado returning to mask her terror. "What are ya gawking at? We got what we came for! Signal the fleet! We're leaving this cursed place before that monster changes her mind!"

As the order was relayed and the massive ship began to turn away from the tower, the captain cast one last look at the monolithic structure.

Meanwhile, far above, past even the even riders who rode exotic mounts and beasts, was the blind oracle, with flaming emerald wings flapping slowly behind her, dissipating the cloud vapour into fine mist.

Her face (covered by a mate black blindfold) looked beneath her at the ship, now smaller than a pencil dot, and slowly, a small smile curled up on her lip.

------------------

Alright, so I'm kinda rambling here because I accidentally posted the wrong chapter earlier. And Webnovel, in its infinite wisdom, has this absolutely bonkers rule where your edited chapter can't have a lower word count than the previous one. I am NOT about to slap 400 words of meaningless filler into the story my artistic integrity (and my dignity) refuses. So, consider this a very chaotic, very meta author's note instead.

Let's see… hmmm. If you're reading this from anywhere that isn't Webnovel, then you're probably a pirate. You should be wearing an eye patch and everything, maybe even have a parrot on your shoulder. Squawk! Please be kind enough to sail your ship over to the original website; the author (me) gets paid in exposure and vague feelings of validation.

Also, a heads-up: my update speed is going to slow down for a bit. I believe I'm coming down with something. (I've always wanted to say that dramatically.) You never truly know how mentally draining writing can be until you're actually doing it. It's cool though, I'm not dying, just temporarily deflating.

I should also take this random opportunity to mention that I'm working on another project called The Primordial Predator And His Harem Of Monsters. It's really dark and has R18 sensual content. (It's porn.) It most certainly is not… unless…? No, I'm kidding. Anyway, it's about this emotionally detached MC named Mr. Valen. I know, lazy naming, but I just like the name Valen, okay? The guy was kidnapped as a child and raised by a serial killer, which, unsurprisingly, messed him up real bad. Now he's trying to be normal, but he's basically a primal thing that had to hunt other things, and he ends up dragging everyone along with him on this horrifying joyride where everything just keeps getting worse and worse…

That is such a poor, utterly inadequate way to describe the swirling chaos I'm writing, but hey I'm rambling! How is this not four hundred words yet? It is so much easier to just type whatever nonsense comes into my head; I do say so myself. There, that should do it. Hopefully. Fingers crossed! Wait it's not four hundred yet?

Hmm what's next, well I have a cat, it's a cute short cat that won't shut up and I've fed the thing, and it's late -_-

Sometimes when I'm asleep, it jumps on me just because it can and I wake up from a perfectly good sleep.

I love it though, and to be honest I do my fair share of bullying, which translates to chasing it around the house with a broom, I just noticed I've been using it to discribe my cat, it's actually her.

Toodles.

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