Chapter 18
"Micah."
Dax called out softly.
Without a sound, Micah appeared behind him—his presence silent and absolute.
"Watch over me." Dax commanded.
Micah bowed his head in acknowledgment.
Dax turned his gaze inward.
This time… I will have no regrets. His hand rested on his blade.
A dark surge rose within him, and a wave of killing intent poured from his body like a bursting dam.
The proper method to train the Killer Series began with the formation of the Killer Seed.
In an instant, a suffocating, depressive aura blanketed the entire House of Fall.
—-
"Take your stances! We are under attack!"
Four figures shot into the sky, scanning the area with sharpened senses.
"What is this killing intent…?!"
"Who could produce something so dense…?"
The air grew heavier—thicker—until red and black wisps drifted across the courtyard, taking tangible form as they coiled like living mist.
One of the floating guards turned his head sharply toward Dax's residence.
Without a sound, he descended toward it, careful not to alert the others.
Deep inside his quarters, Dax's grandfather opened one eye.
He looked outside, feigning ignorance…
but he already knew exactly where the killing intent originated.
With a casual flick of his sleeve, a black veil wrapped around him, concealing his presence.
He vanished.
Heading straight to Dax's courtyard.
—-
"Come."
At Dax's command, the killing intent erupting from his body abruptly reversed—rushing inward and condensing at his heart.
There, it solidified into a small, crimson crystal droplet.
From the swirling mist, figures materialized—twisted silhouettes of the people Dax had killed in the past.
Their rage was palpable.
Even innocents he had slain stood among them, screaming silently.
Dax looked at them with a heavy expression.
"Do not resent me. Instead… direct that will into your next life."
The atmosphere grew unbearably heavy as the phantoms slowly merged into the forming seed.
Sensing danger, Micah moved to intervene—
—but Dax raised his hand.
"I wasn't interested before…"
His eyes darkened.
"Now you have my attention."
The Killer Seed flickered once and in a flash, it appeared before Dax.
He pressed a finger to his forehead.
Light swallowed him.
He found himself standing in a place that felt painfully familiar.
"Where… am I?"
He looked down and froze.
The hands he saw were small the hands of a child.
"I remember now…"
His voice trembled.
"This is where it all began."
The scene shifted violently.
Dax stood before the half-devoured corpse of his mother.
The reflection in a blood-soaked puddle showed his younger self—
broken, trembling, drenched in gore.
"No… no, it can't be…"
His chest tightened.
His mouth tasted bitter.
"Mother… please forgive me…"
He tried to gather her torn intestines with shaking hands.
"Please… don't die… don't leave me…"
He knew it was an illusion but the pain was too real.
"Why didn't you abandon me…?"
His voice broke.
"You sacrificed yourself… for me…"
There were no tears left in him.He had drowned in this nightmare long ago.
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
"Today… I face my demons."
His eyes darkened with resolve.
"I will face what I did."
Dax began to eat the remains of his mother—
a horrific action, but one he had once committed.
He relived every agonizing second.
As he consumed the last piece, the resentful spirits around him ignited burning away one by one.
"Mother… forgive me. I promise… I will save you in this life."
He swallowed the final morsel.
—
The House of Fall fell eerily silent.
High above, Dax's grandfather watched from the sky, the black veil hiding him entirely.
Another elder felt Micah's presence and quietly retreated to his own residence.
—-
All the miasma covering the estate retracted—flowing back into Dax's body.
It fused into the Killer Seed, which now bore inscriptions of wailing ghosts etched across its surface.
Dax's eyes narrowed.
—-
"What… did I just witness?"
Both Micah and the grandfather were shaken.
Micah studied Dax intently.
"He claims to have no mana…
yet he imitates it.
I've never seen this—using killing intent like pure energy.
Impossible… and yet…"
Grandfather had reached his own conclusion, though he said nothing.
Silently, he returned to his chamber.
As he departed, Dax opened his eyes.
They glowed with a deep, unsettling crimson.
He gazed directly at the spot where his grandfather had stood.
"Nosy old fox…"
Dax gripped Cil by the hilt and rose.
His stance shifted fluidly into the Killer Series' Second Form: Blood Flow.
Dax's demeanor shifted.
His long hair draped over his shoulder, hanging heavy as if soaked in water. His stance changed completely rooted, disciplined, and dangerous, like a seasoned martial artist.
Slowly, killing intent leaked from the Killer Seed and spread through his body.
A baleful aura wrapped around him.
Behind him, the vengeful spirit manifested silent, twisted, watching.
Dax stepped back and stretched one leg behind him. Slowly, he pulled Cil, mimicking the motion of drawing a blade from a scabbard.
She had no scabbard, yet she remained flawless.
Perfect.
Sharp.
In that single movement, energy surged from the Killer Seed into his sword.
Cil edge grew cold.
She hummed softly, releasing a faint, eerie hymn.
Dax swung.
A wide, devastating arc.
A crimson crescent tore through the air.
I didn't think this through, he thought, his palm twitching against his face.
The arc traveled at an impossible speed.
The manor split cleanly in two.
The cut was silent.
Perfect.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a surge of baleful aura erupted, blasting the severed half away.
Grandfather, hearing the disturbance, returned to the courtyard. This time, he did not conceal his presence. He appeared beside Dax in an instant.
He surveyed the destruction, admiration flashing in his eyes.
Then he turned to Dax, a dark smile curling across his lips.
"Why destroy your own house?"
—-
"My lord…"
Micah wiped the sweat from his face, completely shaken.
It wasn't the destruction that had terrified him, but the fact that killing intent had been wielded like an element.
My master is a genius.
From everything he knew, no one his age should be capable of such control.
A soft glow gathered behind him.
Gently, a beautiful woman manifested — the one who had always lingered at his back.
"Helga…"
Micah's eyes softened. Each time he saw her, it felt like a dream. He was grateful to Dax. Grateful that he had been given this chance.
He tried to reach for her… then hesitated.
In that moment, she moved forward and embraced him.
He felt it.
Her warmth.
Her lips parted softly.
"I never left you."
Hearing those words, Micah froze. His head lowered.
His chest tightened painfully.
"I'm sorry… Helga."
His words caught her off guard.
She frowned — then smacked him lightly.
"Can you stop blaming yourself? You're ruining our reunion."
She pulled him into a tighter embrace.
"Do you remember the day I died?"
Micah closed his eyes.
The memories crushed him. He remembered the Demon King.
The way she was torn apart.
The god that forcefully teleported him away as he tried to save her.
He remembered his screams.
His despair.
The words I'm sorry rose again—but she stopped him.
"I don't blame you, my love."
He broke.
Wings wrapped around his body, forming a trembling cocoon around his sobbing form.
Dax walked through the courtyard beside his grandfather, laughing softly.
"What's wrong with him?" his grandfather asked, pointing toward Micah.
Dax turned his gaze.
He saw everything.
After all… he was the one who had created the mask.
He gave no answer. Instead, he continued their conversation.
"You asked about my technique…"
Dax smiled.
"Don't tell me it was that man who taught you. I saw the shock in his face it was the same as mine he is clearly unaware of your true prowess."
Dax's grandfather narrowed his eyes.
"Old fox," Dax whispered.
A faint chuckle left the old man.
"No… youthful fox," his grandfather corrected.