"The moment you spoke of outwitting others through payment and boasting of your success," Centric's voice echoed with a subtle weight, each word deliberate, carrying the quiet pride of an artist admiring his own masterpiece. His tone painted Kal's actions as a silent declaration of triumph, as though Kal had played some grand game and emerged victorious.

But Karl had heard enough. "Stop sprouting nonsense!" Karl roared, his right fist clenching tightly across his chest, veins bulging with restrained fury. His voice cracked like thunder across the night air.

"It was your subordinate is abusing his authority over the merchant, right behind my Boss!" Karl's hand shout out, pointing accusingly at Kal, but his eyes never wavered from Centric's gaze. There was no fear there, only burning defiance.

Centric's smile faded. With a flicker of contempt, he released a burst of immortal energy. It swept across the space like a storm crashing against the shore, crashing into Karl's body with an invisible force heavier than mountains.

"What... this pressure...?" Karl gasped internally, sweat beading and trailing down his face like melting ice. His knees buckled slightly, his body refusing to obey as though bound by unseen chains. "He... he has reached the peak of the Ascendant Realm," Karl realized, the oppressive aura weighing down on him like the crushing depths of the ocean.

The air thickened, every breath was a struggle. But before the pressure could crush him further, a calming presence approached. Nyxander. With a simple step, like the gentle passing of a breeze, Nyxander closed the distance. "Relax." His right hand landed softly on Karl's left shoulder.

And instantly. The immortal energy recoiled, scattering like frightened shadows at dawn. It fled with a gust of wind, rushing past Kal, Centric, and the stunned onlookers behind them. The oppressive atmosphere dissolved in an instant, leaving the space eerily calm, but the silence now buzzed with something far more dangerous.

Nyxander's voice broke the stillness, calm yet carrying a cold finality. "I don't know what you did to him or why his body trembled."

"But one thing is clear." He passed the butcher knife from his left to right hand, a motion as simple as it was terrifying. The blade gleamed under the flickering streetlamps, its edge reflecting a light that seemed far colder than steel.

"I have been too cautious," he continued, "and because of that, those around me have suffered humiliation." Nyxander raised the blade, pointing it directly at Centric, the movement smooth but heavy with intent, like the hand of fate itself. "You will apologize to the man you mistreated, because he came here simply to make a living."

The finality in Nyxander's tone froze the crowd. The lamp light shimmered on the blade's edge, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and twist as if fearing the man holding it. Centric's lips curled in disdain.

"Who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do?" With a sharp motion, he summoned his dark sword. The weapon appeared in a swirl of shadows, its aura cold and malevolent, humming with power. Centric took a step forward.

But Nyxander had grown tired. With a swift, almost careless motion, Nyxander swung the butcher knife downward. Then, with a single, fluid motion, Nyxander swung the butcher knife downward.

The blade sliced through the air, a deep hum following its arc. WHHHHRR—BOOM! The wind it carried rushed forward, slamming into the ground and leaving a clear, deep line, two inches deep, drawn like a boundary between gods and mortals.

The earth trembled. The air seemed to still. "If you dare cross this line," Nyxander's voice lowered to a cold whisper, but it carried across the crowd like a thunderclap.

"Don't blame me for what comes next." The words fell like stones into still water, each syllable sending ripples of dread through the crowd.

Those who heard him felt a chill crawl down their backs, as though some ancient predator had stirred, its gaze falling upon them. Kal and his teammates stiffened, their bodies numb, shivering without understanding why.

But for Centric, the world shifted. As his eyes locked with Nyxander's, his consciousness seemed to dissolve.

Darkness swallowed him whole. In that instant, he stood in a place beyond understanding.

Before him loomed a massive creature, seated in the void,or was it shadow? Neither word sufficed. It was a presence that defied description, its form shifting between existence and nothingness.

But one thing was clear. It was watching him. And it was ready to erase him, not just from the world, but from existence itself.

Centric's body locked in place, frozen like a statue carved in fear. Only the ragged sound of his breath and the violent pounding of his heart proved he was still alive.

Kal stumbled closer to Centric, his body trembling like a leaf caught in a restless wind. "Boss… Boss," he called, his voice quivering. He waved his right hand frantically in front of Centric's blank face, searching for a sign of recognition. "Come on, Boss!" Kal grabbed Centric by the shoulders, shaking him as if trying to wake a man trapped in a nightmare.

Centric jolted, gasping like someone surfacing after being dragged into deep waters. "Huh… what?" His dazed eyes met Kal's sweat-slicked face, confusion still clouding his expression.

"You were about to deal with him," Kal said, his voice carrying a note of disbelief, "and then you just… spaced out." But before Kal could finish his thought, a voice cold and sharp as a blade drawn at midnight sliced through the air.

"What did you say?" Nyxander.

The two turned toward him. The streetlamps' dim glow cast Nyxander's shadow long and looming, his butcher knife still gleaming with quiet menace.

Kal straightened, forcing arrogance onto his face, though the sweat dripping from his chin betrayed him.

"In your dreams," Kal sneered, trying to sound bold, though his voice cracked slightly. "Do you really think you deserve such honor..." But Centric cut him off. "Do as he said."

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