Chapter 389 — Conductor of Chaos
Brakk was sitting on a rock.
Arms crossed.
While the desert literally exploded around him.
A mountain leapt.
A dimensional rift opened behind his back.
He didn't even move.
— It's exploding everywhere…
What should I do now…
A shockwave passed behind him.
Still motionless.
— That damn lizard… he ruined all my plans.
Because of him, Zahkariel has a body now.
He no longer needs me as a host.
So I won't be able to absorb his power…
He narrowed his eyes.
— But he said he likes controlling me because I'm his thing.
Silence.
A dimensional meteorite fell in the distance.
— …Hmm.
He tapped his chin.
— Maybe that's not such a bad thing.
A slow smile appeared.
— All that's left is to enjoy the situation… and overturn everything.
The narrator:
— There you go. He's been sitting for five minutes and he's already plotting betrayal.
Far away, Míster Mind slightly turned his head.
Their gazes met.
Behind his cracked mask… he smiled.
— He's thinking.
Interesting.
He raised his hand.
A new soul appeared.
He compressed it.
Twisted it.
Transformed it.
It became a weapon.
A long double-bladed staff, like a two-headed spear.
The blades vibrated with unstable violet light.
His aura intensified.
— Follow me, Nightmare.
He spun his weapon elegantly.
Then dashed in a violet streak toward Lya.
Lya blocked.
The impact split the ground beneath their feet.
— I would have bet you'd turn intangible.
She didn't answer.
She stared at him.
Cold.
Very cold.
Míster Mind raised his hand.
— Hear this melody…
Screams of the Damned.
He partially released hundreds of souls.
It wasn't a sound.
It was a mental wave.
An invisible pressure.
A vibration crushing the mind.
The sand around them trembled as if it felt the pain.
Nova, in the distance:
— I don't like when it sings without music.
Nightmare appeared behind Lya.
— End.
He increased the mass of his mace.
The weapon grew so heavy that gravity bent around it.
Space warped.
He struck.
The ground collapsed.
But—
Lya was already behind him.
She pointed her finger.
A small black orb appeared.
Dense.
Silent.
— Shadow Sphere.
She placed it point-blank.
Implosion.
Time warped.
Space twisted.
A temporary black hole formed.
It swallowed sand, light, dimensional fragments.
An entire portion of the desert vanished.
Erased.
Nightmare was hurled away.
His sand armor cracked.
His unstable violet eyes flickered.
The narrator:
— That's what we call "a polite reply."
Míster surged forward.
He struck.
Lya parried.
Two streaks clashed.
One black.
One violet.
Each collision destroyed reality around them.
Dimensional shards rained like meteors.
Then—
Lya suddenly slowed.
Míster passed through her.
A monumental explosion erupted behind her.
He turned—
Too late.
Several shadow spheres exploded on him.
Space-time was crushed.
A vast portion of the desert collapsed into temporary void.
Míster Mind was violently repelled.
His cloak torn.
His chest marked with dark burns.
His aura flickered.
He planted his weapon into the ground to stop.
A trench several kilometers long carved itself.
He rose slowly.
— …Interesting.
Nightmare appeared beside him.
Smoking.
Cracked.
— She hits hard.
— Yes.
Míster placed his hand on his cracked mask.
He lifted it slightly.
No one saw his face.
But—
The instant the mask was raised…
An overwhelming presence spread.
Reality seemed to recoil.
Physical laws hesitated.
Mental pressure became suffocating.
Even space-time contracted around him.
The fighters turned.
Evans blinked.
— …Ah. That's new.
An invisible mental wave spread.
Instantly.
Míster entered the minds of all the monsters in the desert.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Beneath the sand.
In the rifts.
In the ruins.
He commanded them to yield.
To come.
To serve.
The desert trembled.
The sand rose like a living sea.
Monstrous silhouettes emerged everywhere.
Colossal creatures.
Bone-covered beasts.
Twisted forms.
Nova looked at the horizon.
— We were already in trouble…
now it's a surprise DLC.
The narrator:
— Update 2.0: "Infernal Horde."
Míster Mind raised his arms.
— This is going to be a slaughter.
The narrator sighed.
— He really said that like it was an invitation to a barbecue.
Far away—
Brakk smiled.
— Oh… now it's getting interesting.
Zahkariel burst out laughing.
— That's it!
Now that's an atmosphere!
Evans cracked his neck.
— Well.
Are we scaling up again?
Nova raised her sword.
— I hope no one expects us to clean all this up.
Valor looked at the monstrous army.
— The Great Valor accepts this challenge.
Bloodweaver:
— Nobody asked you.
Elvis, arms crossed, sighed.
— I said the Earth had become larger.
I never said it had become calmer.
The entire desert vibrated.
The monsters roared.
The sky cracked.
The war had officially leveled up.
And somewhere—
Brakk watched.
In silence.
Calculating.
Chapter 390 — Survival Mode (Even Worse)
The desert was no longer a desert.
It was a sea.
A sea of monsters.
Stone carapaces riddled with glowing cracks.
Translucent silhouettes made of compressed sand.
Colossi with multiple jaws grinding like living cliffs.
And some forms… walked upside down on reality, as if gravity were just a suggestion.
The sky darkened under Míster Mind's mental pressure.
He barely lifted his mask.
Barely.
And yet—
Space-time seemed to contract, as if stepping back cautiously.
As if whispering:
— No. Not him. Not yet.
An invisible pressure fell.
The sand compacted into solid plates.
The air grew dense. Heavy. Almost liquid.
Even Zahkariel narrowed his eyes slightly.
— …Interesting.
Míster Mind slowly lowered his mask.
But the wave was already gone.
It crossed the desert in a fraction of a second.
Every monster.
Every creature.
Every primitive consciousness.
He entered their minds.
Not brutally.
Elegantly.
Like a conductor raising his baton.
— Come.
And they came.
The sand exploded into hundreds of geysers.
Thousands of silhouettes surged.
The ground trembled so violently that the existing cracks… cracked again.
The narrator's voice grew grave:
— Congratulations. You've unlocked "Impossible Survival Mode." No saves available.
Evans looked at the horizon saturated with creatures.
He cracked his slid along his arms.
— Well. Are we scaling up again?
Nova sighed.
— We were already in trouble… Now it's a surprise DLC.
Elvis, arms crossed despite spatial gashes still visible on his chest:
— Humans. Always surprised when things get worse.
Nova looked at him.
— You're still bleeding.
— It's decorative.
Lya observed the tide of monsters.
Calm.
Cold.
Analytical.
Nightmare rose, still slightly smoking.
— She almost erased me…
— Almost, repeated Míster Mind.
He planted his weapon in the ground.
The violet aura pulsed.
The monsters began to encircle the battlefield.
— Lya. Let's see how many pieces you can remove from the board.
The narrator:
— He speaks like a strategist. He acts like a psychopath. Important nuance.
Brakk watched the scene from his rock.
A gigantic monster appeared behind him.
Immense.
Terrifying.
Jaws open.
Brakk raised a finger.
— Not now.
The monster froze.
Hesitated.
Then turned away.
Brakk sighed.
— Thank you.
He crossed his arms.
— Well… If this gets worse, I'll pretend to be on the winner's side.
Zahkariel burst out laughing.
— You're pathetic.
— Strategically flexible.
— Coward.
— Misunderstood visionary.
The monsters charged.
A wave.
No.
A tsunami.
Evans raised his blade.
Lightning roared around him.
— Very well.
He struck the ground.
An electric circle spread at high speed.
The first lines were pulverized.
The vitrified sand became black glass.
Silhouettes vaporized, leaving charred shadows frozen in the matter.
— Still a lot left, he noted calmly.
Nova vanished.
Reappeared in the middle of a group.
Her sword traced—not slashes.
Dimensional cuts.
Space bent, sliced.
Monsters were cleanly divided, their halves falling in different directions as if logic had left the room.
— Movement number seven. Validation: effective.
Elvis exhaled.
A blizzard erupted.
Hundreds of creatures froze instantly.
Some exploded under the pressure of the frost.
— Hmph. Amusing.
Haya spun her staff.
Black lightning exploded around her.
Curses burst from the ground, clutching creatures.
— Come. I was running out of targets.
Ryn, voice soft despite the apocalypse:
— I'll cover your left angle.
Her daggers gleamed.
Each strike was precise.
Surgical.
— You're smiling? asked Haya.
— I like being useful.
Míster Mind, from afar:
— Haya, whose side are you on exactly?
Haya scratched her head while destroying three monsters with a swing.
— I got carried away. Sorry.
— Doesn't matter.
The narrator:
— Probably the most worrying sentence on the battlefield.
He observed.
The monsters fell.
But it was just noise.
A diversion.
He slightly raised his head.
His aura expanded.
Denser.
Heavier.
The sky cracked slightly above him.
As if reality hesitated to stay aligned.
Lya stared at him.
She understood.
— You're testing.
— I'm analyzing.
Nightmare gripped his mace.
— We'll overwhelm them.
— No.
Míster raised his hand.
All monsters stopped advancing.
One second.
Just one.
Then—
— Die.
Míster Mind's will fell.
The remaining creatures were crushed mentally.
No spectacular explosion.
Just collapse.
As if their souls decided continuing was a bad idea.
Silence.
Then he raised his hand.
Luminous filaments escaped the corpses.
Thousands of torn souls.
They converged toward him.
Forming a vibrating sphere between his palms.
Brakk blinked.
— Ah. So we're at that stage.
Míster Mind observed the sphere.
Then swallowed it.
Simply.
His aura pulsed.
He smiled.
Haya arrived behind him.
Bloodweaver too.
A silhouette appeared behind them.
Motionless.
Authoritative.
— You're going back.
Míster Mind tilted his head slightly.
— We were just starting to have fun.
— I don't care. If I say you're going back, you're going back.
Brakk finally rose from his rock.
— What's this? Who's ruining my plans again?
Míster Mind pointed at Brakk.
— Him, he's coming with us.
The silhouette nodded.
Brakk looked around.
— Wait. I didn't sign anything.
The narrator concluded:
— Nobody had signed.
And that was the problem.
Chapter 391 — Permissions, Ego, and Parental Problems
Silence had settled.
A tense silence.
Fragile.
Ready to explode at the slightest wrong word.
And of course—
Valor spoke.
He stepped forward theatrically, cape floating uselessly though there was no wind.
— Who told you you'd leave so easily?
The Great Valor declares… he hasn't had enough fun with Bloodweaver.
Bloodweaver blinked.
— I'm flattered. I think.
The silhouette slowly turned toward Valor.
— That's not my problem.
If I say we're going back… we're going back.
Neutral tone.
Calm.
Definitive.
The silhouette then set its gaze on Lya.
For a long time.
A very long time.
Then turned away with an air… disappointed.
Lya raised an eyebrow.
— …But said nothing.
Valor lifted his arm.
A small luminous sphere appeared above his palm.
It pulsed.
Grew.
Condensed.
Until it became a miniature star, compressed, vibrating, unstable.
The sand around him began to melt.
— Here, it's the Great Valor who gives permission when it's time to leave.
He smiled.
Far too sure of himself.
Ryn sighed.
— Let them go, Valor. It's not that serious.
The silhouette murmured, almost to itself:
— In your place, I wouldn't do that… Just saying.
The narrator:
— Translation watch you learn the lesson live."
Commander Liora arrived, walking with upright posture, stern gaze.
— Stop, Valor.
Everyone else stopped.
And you don't want to listen?
Valor puffed out his chest.
— First, the Great Valor does what he wants.
Dramatic pause.
— But since I'm a good—
No one knew how the sentence ended.
He made his star vanish with a snap of his fingers.
He pointed at Míster Mind and the others.
— You're lucky Liora told me to spare you.
Brakk murmured:
— Saved by parental authority.
Míster Mind smiled behind his mask.
— Stop being such a killjoy.
Haya narrowed her eyes.
— Wait… Your mask has no opening.
How did you eat the soul sphere?
Silence.
Míster Mind answered calmly:
— I lifted it a little. And I ate it.
Nova descended slowly from the sky.
— How do you see?
The mask has no opening.
And it seems to restrict you.
— That's none of your concern.
Nova blinked.
— You could at least have said that more kindly.
— And why would I do that?
Bloodweaver placed a hand on Nova's shoulder.
— Don't listen to him. He's just bitter.
— I'm not bitter.
— You literally just swallowed thousands of souls.
— Technical detail.
The narrator:
— Míster Mind's customer service is currently closed.
Zahkariel landed heavily, sword resting on his shoulder.
— Who told you you could leave with my toy… Brakk?
Brakk raised his hands.
— For the record, I'm nobody's toy.
I'm a limited edition.
The silhouette slowly turned its head toward Zahkariel.
— If my son wants him to come…
I don't see what would stop him.
Silence.
Everyone looked.
Zahkariel.
Then the silhouette.
Then Míster Mind.
Brakk murmured:
— Wait… Son?
The narrator:
— And there it is. Family problems unlocked.
Zahkariel pressed his sword more firmly on his shoulder.
— Who do you think you are?
A discharge erupted.
Evans appeared beside them, lightning coursing through his body.
— We haven't finished our fight.
And you—who do you think you are?
The silhouette observed them.
— These youngsters today… No respect.
Elvis landed beside Zahkariel.
— If Zahkariel wants that one not to leave…
Then he won't leave.
Brakk sighed.
— I feel like I'm about to be used as an excuse for another cosmic war.
Liora observed the scene.
The level of tension.
The lightning.
The swords.
The oversized egos.
— This is going to create much bigger problems here.
No one listened.
She clapped her hands.
An invisible wave spread.
— Enough. Stop.
Instantly, the atmosphere froze.
Even Valor fell silent.
— Now.
Complete silence.
She inhaled slowly.
— We're not out of the woods.
The narrator concluded:
— And technically…
They had never even entered them.
Chapter 392 — Diplomacy, Threats, and Poor Brakk
Silence settled.
Not the fake silence where everyone breathes too loudly while preparing an attack.
The real one.
A light wind swept across the vitrified desert.
Liora scanned the assembly.
Residual lightning.
Unstable auras.
Egos inflated like balloons ready to burst.
She crossed her arms.
— Well. We're leaving.
This doesn't concern us.
Silence.
Nova slowly turned her head toward her.
— That feint you pulled earlier… I didn't expect it.
Honestly. That wasn't fair.
— No, really, that wasn't fair, added Evans.
Liora shrugged.
— What do you want me to do?
It's a very difficult problem we're dealing with.
Ryn nodded softly.
— It's true, it's complicated.
You can't just take sides with one camp.
Otherwise it would be unfair to the other.
Zahkariel sneered.
— You call that complicated?
Brakk timidly raised his hand.
— I suggest you consult me too.
It's my potential disappearance we're talking about.
No one listened.
Lya, silent until now, tilted her head slightly.
— It's not that complicated.
Everyone turned toward her.
— Since you don't want to take sides with either of them…
She vanished.
A breath of air.
She reappeared in front of Brakk.
Her blade rested under his chin.
— He's the source of the problem.
Just eliminate him.
And it's over.
Silence.
Brakk blinked.
— …Excuse me?
He immediately raised his hands.
— I didn't do anything!
I'm innocent!
I'm literally the victim in this story!
Ryn stepped in almost instantly.
— He's right!
You can't do that, it's wrong!
Besides, poor thing, he's innocent!
Brakk looked at her with gratitude.
— Thank you! Finally someone lucid!
Valor sighed loudly.
— It's impossible to be that naïve…
He's not at all what you think.
Ryn frowned.
— Don't do it, Lya.
It would be cruel to this poor guy.
Brakk placed a hand on his heart.
— I finally feel understood.
He then nodded vigorously.
— Yes. Very cruel. Extremely cruel. Needlessly cruel.
Lya observed Brakk for a few seconds.
Then she shrugged slightly.
— Fine. It's okay. I won't hurt him.
She withdrew her blade.
Brakk exhaled so hard it was as if he had just escaped three wars, two apocalypses, and a tax audit.
— Thank you. Really. I thought—
He stopped.
The silhouette that had remained in the background was watching the scene.
Its gaze was cold.
Calculating.
Long.
Almost satisfied.
Haya crossed her arms.
— Father… aren't you going to do something?
The silence grew heavier.
The silhouette stepped forward.
The father of assassins.
Leader of the assassin guild.
Ranked SSS.
His aura didn't explode.
It imposed itself.
— No matter what happens…
My daughter… Brakk will come with us.
A shiver ran through the assembly.
Brakk froze.
— Wait.
Since when am I included in family decisions?
Why do I never get a say?
Zahkariel placed his sword on his shoulder and stepped forward.
— Arrogant.
Who do you think you are?
Brakk is my toy.
And I won't let you take him.
Brakk slowly turned toward him.
— Toy?
Again?
He raised a finger.
— I officially refuse the status of toy.
At minimum, I demand "rare artifact."
Evans ran a hand through his hair.
Lightning crackled around him.
— This is getting annoying.
Why are you all so interested in him?
Elvis, the frost dragon, landed heavily beside Zahkariel.
A frozen breath spread across the ground.
— I don't know why Zahkariel wants him.
But if he wants him… then the rest doesn't matter to me.
— Admirable loyalty, murmured Nova.
— Strategic simplicity, corrected Elvis.
Brakk looked up at the sky.
— Could someone here explain why I've become a collector's item?
Nova tilted her head.
— It's true that statistically… it's strange.
Liora massaged her temples.
— Let's summarize.
One camp wants to take him.
Another considers him a toy.
Some think he's innocent.
Others think he manipulates everyone.
And I have to prevent a cosmic war.
Valor crossed his arms.
— The Great Valor could solve this.
Everyone ignored him.
Ryn looked at Brakk.
— Are you sure you didn't do anything?
Brakk hesitated.
— I'm sure at… sixty percent.
Silence.
— Forty.
Even heavier silence.
The silhouette set its eyes on him.
— Doesn't matter.
Brakk swallowed hard.
— I officially confirm.
At 73%.
Ryn slowly turned her head toward him.
— At how much?
— Nothing.
I said 100%.
Clearly 100%.
Zahkariel smiled.
— I think you did.
The wind rose.
Evans's aura crackled louder.
Elvis's frost spread.
Tensions climbed another notch.
Brakk timidly raised his hand.
— I can confess to a minor crime if that helps?
— Don't push your luck, Lya called from afar.
He inhaled deeply.
— Fine.
I propose a democratic vote.
No one answered.
The narrator sighed.
— All this… for a guy who insists he's innocent.
And somewhere, far above them, reality itself seemed to wonder:
"Why is it always this guy?"
The narrator concluded:
— And so, in the midst of beings capable of destroying worlds…
The one most in danger remained Brakk.