Sung Siyoon's figure vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the village streets silent except for the faint hum of residual energy lingering in the air. Seth Chrono's lips curved into a thin, amused smile. "An avatar threatens me with a 'good time'… and they think I'll be scared?" His voice was calm, almost mocking. "What a joke."
The next morning, Seth's demeanor hardened. The playful undertone was gone. He began meticulously enacting his plan: a purge of all forces tied to the gods. His senses extended like invisible threads, scouring for divine energy, for traces of those who had once been servants or avatars of the deities.
By noon, he had identified multiple presences: clusters in Busan, others scattered across Seoul. The thrill of the hunt made his blood hum. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Seems I have a lot to do," he murmured, the faintest glint of excitement in his eyes.
And then… BOOM. The air ruptured with a wave of force. Sung Siyoon reappeared, his form materializing like a nightmare given flesh. His eyes burned with determination, and in his hand, he held a sword that shimmered like Excalibur—but infused with dark, demonic energy, pulsating like it had a will of its own.
"You're not supposed to be here, Slayer," Siyoon's voice rang out, deep and authoritative, as if every syllable carried divine weight.
Seth's expression darkened immediately. Shadows crawled across his face, swallowing the faint smile he had worn moments ago. His left eye glowed a deep, feral yellow with a slitted pupil, and a predatory grin twisted across his lips. "Are you ready to die?" he said, low and cold, almost a whisper—but it resonated with the kind of lethal certainty that could freeze hearts.
Siyoon lifted his sword, and an aura of dark energy roared around it. The blade pulsed with malevolent power, an unmistakable mark of its demonic origin. Seth's hand brushed against his inventory, summoning the Red Moons. The crimson twin daggers appeared, glowing faintly, and he vanished from sight in an instant.
In a blink, Seth reappeared to Siyoon's left, aiming for the nape, a strike meant to end the fight immediately. But Siyoon's reflexes were sharp; he sidestepped effortlessly, and the swing of his sword nearly shattered the air around them. The force of his counterattack shoved Seth back several meters, yet Seth's grin never faltered.
Siyoon's tone dripped with disdain. "How did you even kill the gods if you're this weak?"
Seth tilted his head, amusement dripping from every word. "You were sponsored by a donkey god, and now you think you're the shit?" His voice was slow, deliberate, venomous. "How pathetic."
Siyoon's grip on his sword tightened, dark energy swirling as he activated Demonic Sun Energy. The aura of power radiated violently, heating the air and sending tremors through the streets. Flames of black and red erupted along the blade, boosting both its destructive potential and his own strength.
Seth's grin widened, eyes narrowing as he stared at his opponent. "Seems you really think having a god's backing makes you a match for me…" He let the words hang in the air like a knife, mocking the absurdity of Siyoon's confidence.
They clashed. Sparks erupted, and shockwaves rippled through the streets as steel met steel. Every strike from Siyoon was infused with his demonic energy, each block and counter a testament to his training. But Seth's movements were something else entirely—fluid, precise, and lethally fast.
He closed one eye, his golden pupil glowing intensely. "You're weak… in a very cool way," he muttered, almost savoring the irony of Siyoon's struggle.
Then, the Godslayer System chimed:
[Obtained New Chain by Coincidence — Chain of Oppression]
[Effect: Anyone weaker than you will feel existential dread; extreme death imposed on inferior beings]
Seth activated Eye of Judgment. A scan of Siyoon's stats appeared:
Strength: 240
Agility: 219
Intelligence: 222
Luck: 100
Seth's laughter was cold and cutting.
"This… is the best a god could provide!?"
He laughed hard as if laughing at an unforgettable joke.
"You see this?" Seth's voice carried over the wind, low, commanding. "The gods have such weak sponsors… they look disgusting. They look disgustingly weak." His words dripped with scorn as his shadow stretched and darkened around him like living smoke.
With a thought, Seth disappeared—not merely teleporting but dissolving into nothingness, leaving Siyoon swinging at empty air. Before Siyoon could react, Seth reappeared directly in front of him.
The Red Moons were a blur, slicing through the air with speeds that bent perception. Every strike was precise, clean, and lethal. Siyoon tried to block and dodge, but it was futile. Limbs, torso, flesh—everything was shredded faster than the eye could follow. Blood splattered the streets, painting the ground crimson as Seth's relentless assault tore Siyoon apart. It was mutilation.
Finally, Siyoon's mutilated form collapsed, a pitiful heap of broken flesh and armor. Seth stood over him, his posture relaxed, yet every fiber of him screamed absolute dominance. Shadows clung to him, eyes glowing feral, slitted pupils like twin knives of malice.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving the destroyed figure at his feet. "Is this what they send to kill me!? How pathetic you moronic gods!!" He was filled with malice as if it all belonged to him.
The streets fell silent, broken only by the fading echo of the clash. Seth's crimson daggers gleamed faintly, reflecting the sunlight off the blood-stained pavement. He sheathed the Red Moons back into his inventory with deliberate calm.
There was no victory cheer, no relief—only the calculated satisfaction of an apex predator who had just reminded the world why gods themselves dared not interfere.
And somewhere, unseen, the divine threads Seth had been hunting quivered… knowing that their end had come.