I knew that violence wasn’t the only option here.


    If I wanted to, I could have easily manipulated these morons. The way they moved, the way they followed orders without question—these weren’t people with strong individual wills. They were sheep, waiting for a shepherd. It would’ve been so simple to twist their perception, lead them into a false sense of security, and then have them spill every secret they had.


    Hell, if Azrael had tried, he probably would’ve done it even better than me.


    But he didn’t.


    Neither of us did.


    Because as I stood amidst them, blades flashing, bodies falling, blood splattering against my skin—I realized something.


    These people had crossed a boundary.


    At least, in Azrael’s book.


    There were about a hundred or so of them, but to me, they were nothing more than obstacles. Their gender, body structure, strength, or condition didn’t matter. None of it did. I had one job right now.


    And I did it like a grim reaper. Methodically. Efficiently. Without hesitation.


    Harvesting souls.


    One by one.


    And when the majority of their people lay dead on the floor, their blood pooling beneath my feet, the survivors finally began to understand.


    The cocky expressions were gone. The arrogance had drained from their faces.


    Now?


    Now, they took me seriously.


    I let out a slow breath, wiping a blood-slicked hand on my already ruined clothes before cracking my neck.


    “So,” I mused, tilting my head. “You finally decided I was worth your effort?”


    A single man stepped forward. His face was set in determination, though I could see the nervous twitch in his hands. His voice, however, remained steady. Loud. Rallying.


    “Fellow brethren!” he bellowed. “We, battle-hardened warriors, will never lose to these upper-level vermin! Even without weapons, we will stand strong! We will defeat them! FOR OUR FUTURE!”


    A chorus of voices joined him.


    “FOR OUR FUTURE!”


    Ah. So that was their rallying cry.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    It was almost… cute.


    Then something caught my attention—they were complaining about not having weapons.


    So that was it? That was why they were holding back?


    I clicked my tongue in disappointment before an idea crossed my mind.


    A slow, malicious grin spread across my face as I activated my bracelet.


    In an instant, a massive pile of weapons materialized between us. Swords, spears, axes, halberds, katanas, whips, even shovels—a diverse collection of murder instruments, glistening under the dim lights.


    Their reaction was instantaneous.


    Eyes widened. Hands twitched, drawn toward the weapons instinctively. For a moment, their gazes flickered between the pile and me, as if unsure whether this was a trick.


    I smiled.


    “Go on,” I said smoothly. “Pick one up. I don’t want to hear you whining about fairness later.”


    Some hesitated.


    But most?


    Most jumped at the opportunity, snatching up weapons with eager hands.


    As soon as they had a weapon in their grip, their confidence returned. Their postures straightened, cosmic energy surged around them, and once again, they looked at me with arrogance.


    It was almost adorable.


    I sighed dramatically, stretching my arms.


    “I’m going to gouge out those eyes.”


    ……


    The battle restarted in an instant.


    This time, they fought properly.


    No more testing the waters. No more hesitation. Their cosmic energy flared, enhancing their bodies, increasing their strength. The air vibrated with sheer force as they attacked in perfect synchronization, striking from multiple directions at once.


    Their coordination was impressive—not just blind aggression, but trained movements, practiced formations.


    At their peak, they were undeniably strong. The absolute limit of the mortal rank.


    But there was one problem.


    I was not in their rank.


    If I wanted to, I could have ended this in seconds.


    But where was the fun in that?


    So, I held back.


    No cosmic energy. No overwhelming force. Just pure, raw, physical power.


    Because I wanted to feel it. The adrenaline rush. The thrill of a proper fight. The strain of battle.


    Losing to Arcied had left a bitter taste in my mouth. The only reason I could accept that defeat was because he was the strongest Astra at the Planetary power level.


    But one day, I would reach that level.


    And when I did?


    I would pay him back.


    A thousand-fold.


    ……


    Despite their enhanced bodies, despite their cosmic energy allowing them to shatter boulders with a single punch—


    They couldn’t land a single hit.


    Not one.


    I dodged. Countered. Dodged. Kicked. Dodged. Punched.


    Over and over again, until the battlefield was painted red.


    And when the dust settled, only ten remained.


    I stood among the piles of corpses, drenched in blood.


    My silver hair had turned a deep shade of scarlet.


    My pale skin was stained with the lives I had taken.


    The last ten clutched their weapons to their chests, trembling.


    A thought crossed my mind.


    Were they the weakest?


    Had they simply survived because the cocky ones attacked first and died first?


    I took a single step forward—


    And they pissed themselves.


    Literally.


    All at once.


    Perfect synchronization.


    I blinked.


    Weren’t they supposed to be ‘battle-hardened warriors’?


    What happened to that pride? That hatred for upper-level vermin?


    I smirked.


    Oh, how pathetic.


    I took another step—


    This time, their legs gave out entirely.


    They collapsed, trembling so violently I could hear their bones clicking together.


    There was nothing to slip on.


    They weren’t injured.


    They were just…


    That terrified.


    I paused, observing them with mild amusement.


    Their pitiful gazes darted away from me—toward Azrael.


    He was still cradling the baby in his arms, completely unbothered by the carnage.


    And the baby?


    Not a single cry.


    Not a single sound.


    Even through all the screaming and dying, the child remained eerily calm.


    Azrael must be good with babies.


    A multi-talented guy, huh?


    I turned my attention back to the survivors.


    “We should interrogate them,” Azrael said casually. “This is your chance.”


    I cracked my neck, stretching.


    Then, I smiled.


    “Alright, listen up,” I said, my voice silky with amusement. “I’ll ask once.”


    Their trembling intensified.


    “I don’t care if you know everything or nothing—just tell me something useful.”


    They swallowed hard.


    I tilted my head.


    “If you give me what I want, I’ll kill you peacefully.”


    I let the words sink in before my tone darkened.


    “If you don’t—”


    I crouched, lowering my voice to a whisper.


    “I have ways of showing you a living hell.”


    One of them opened his mouth—


    But under my intense gaze, he froze.


    Tears welled up in his eyes, his entire body locked in place.


    I sighed, shaking my head.


    “Don’t give me that bullshit about your life ‘already being hell.’”


    I leaned closer, voice like ice.


    “You haven’t seen real hell.”


    Their choked breaths, their trembling fingers—


    They understood.


    They believed me.


    Good.


    “Now…” I smiled, taking my time.


    “For my first question…”