Deep within the forest, mist drifted lazily between the shadows of the trees.
Alex stood alone at the center of a small clearing, his expression calm, almost indifferent—as though the two B-rank talents before him weren't even worth his attention.
Directly ahead, flames coiled and took shape in Brown's palm, winding into a massive serpent of blue fire, as if it had slithered straight out from the depths of Hell. It hissed and twined around his wrist, its heat warping the very air.
His gaze was cold and cutting, his voice like a blade scraping across stone.
"Boy, I really don't know where you get your nerve."
"If you were still the young master of the Elliott family, perhaps I might turn and walk away. But now? You're nothing more than the whelp of a criminal line—a stray dog without protection. With nothing but a measly D-rank talent, what makes you think you can stand against us?"
The Pender family was a second-tier power in Abyssfall City. Brown, though not of the direct line, had awakened a B-rank battle soul—[Netherflame Wraithfire]—enough to rival the core heirs in standing.
He had awakened early, already a Level 5 powerhouse before entering the secret realm. Now, after a string of victories alongside Leon, he had risen to Level 7.
In his eyes, crushing a fallen D-rank "young master" like Alex with his own level advantage and destructive battle soul would be effortless.
That calm expression on Alex's face? To him, it was nothing but the ignorance of a fool too arrogant to know fear.
From the rear, Leon let out a cold chuckle through clenched teeth.
Having traveled with Brown, he knew full well the man's ruthlessness.
To ensure Gregory couldn't interfere in this mission, Brown had even secured a bottle of [Silver-tier – Demonlure Incense] before entering the realm—a rare alchemical lure used in high-tier dungeons to draw in monsters.
When lit, it could provoke every beast within two kilometers into a frenzy, triggering a beast tide.
Unfortunately for them, that "ace in the hole" would never be played—Gregory was already down, grievously injured, no longer a threat.
That left only one target.
"Brown, the recording's on," Leon said, lifting the magic crystal to begin capturing the scene.
In the frame, Brown's lips twisted into a feral grin. Without another word, he raised his hand, sending the serpent of ghostly blue fire hissing forward. It tore through the air, leaving behind a charred, smoking trail.
[Netherflame Wraithfire]—though only a B-rank—was among the rarer battle souls in the destructive natural element category. Its strikes carried terrifying spell penetration.
That fire serpent could annihilate an ordinary Level 9 beast in a single instant.
To Leon, Alex's fate was already sealed.
He was even beginning to wonder how many valuable trinkets he could strip from the corpse of the Elliott family's former young master.
The roar of flames drew closer, the air itself sharpening into blades of heat that seared every leaf they brushed.
On the ground behind, Gregory clenched his fists, a flicker of worry in his eyes.
He had never truly seen Alex fight—nor did he know what this so-called SSS-rank battle soul actually was.
And then—when the fire serpent was less than half a meter away—Alex moved.
He stepped forward as casually as if taking a stroll. In his hand, the black longblade burst into a streak of thunderlight, splitting the night sky.
The blade's sweeping arc tore up a gale, its edge crackling with storm's fury, cutting straight into the onrushing serpent of ghostflame.
"He's… trying to cut fire?"
Brown's pupils contracted sharply—such an idea was utterly absurd.
To extinguish elemental fire with a blade required an impossible combination of extreme speed and overwhelming force—something even many legendary war gods in their youth could not achieve.
And Alex… was nothing but a discarded D-rank!
The sneer never made it to his lips before it was replaced by raw shock—
The instant the blade passed through, the ghostly blue serpent winked out like a candle snuffed by a storm, leaving not even a single ember behind.
He had—truly—cut down the Wraithfire with steel!
"Impossible!"
Brown stumbled back three steps, his face gone pale. "How can you possibly have that kind of power?!"
That strike—he had poured everything into it, draining his mental power to the brink—yet Alex had cut it apart as if it were nothing more than rotting wood.
His expression hadn't changed.
Not even his breathing had faltered.
"There is nothing in this world that is truly impossible."
Alex's voice was calm, but it carried an undeniable weight of authority.
He stepped forward, each pace deliberate. His frame was not large, yet in Brown's eyes he loomed like an unscalable mountain.
Behind him, Leon stared in stunned silence, the magic crystal slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a hollow clatter—and he didn't even notice.
At this moment, who would still dare call Alex a D-rank?
Leon only wanted to slap himself for ever thinking so.
The chill radiating from the blade was so sharp it seemed to solidify the air.
Brown collapsed backward onto the dirt, eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse with a mix of rage and fear.
"You've been this strong all along—and yet you hid it! You're more terrifying than Manfred! Fine—kill us then… Manfred will avenge us!"
Alex merely shook his head.
"You give yourself too much credit."
"From the very beginning, you and Leon were nothing but petty clowns in my eyes—your only worth was to occasionally amuse me when life grew dull."
"A 'formidable enemy'? You're not worthy."
"If I wanted to kill you… it would be as effortless as putting down a stray dog."
The words had barely left his lips before the blade fell.
A flash of cold light—then Brown's world spun violently, swallowed by endless darkness.
Brown—dead.