Zazm's body cut through the sky like a streak of shadow, the wind screaming past his ears. The battlefield unfolded below — cities that once held millions now reduced to infernos.
Towers snapped like broken bones, fires raged in endless blocks, and black smoke funneled upward, blotting the clouds.
Streets were littered with shattered cars, corpses half-buried under steel and glass, and the twisted frames of buildings that once stood proud. It was Earth, or something painfully close, yet drenched in silence and ruin.
"ZAZMM...."
Zazm looked at his side where Zephyra was floating down with him. He looked at her and asked what's wrong.
Zephyra worriedly looked around, "My earring fall off..."
"Leave it!" Zazm spoke his tone flat.
"No I don't want to." Zephyra retorted puffing her face.
Zazm sighed, "Okay since that earring has a special ability you the wearer already must have known where it is."
"Yes it fell down over there." Zephyra pointed at a small place.
"You can go."
"Can I make myself visible to others if necessary?" Zephyra asked getting close to Zazm with a huge smile.
Zazm gave a tired nod saying sure.
Zephyra quickly flew up to the place. Zazm kept watching the chaos as be fell down analyzing the situation.
At the last second, Zazm vanished, reappearing in a blink — boots slamming onto the cracked pavement.
He didn't have time to even adjust.
A massive force hit him from the side, faster than sound. His body ripped through five buildings in a row, shattering walls, bursting through rebar and plaster. Glass rained down like glitter.
Each impact thundered like an explosion until finally, his body skidded across an open plaza, leaving a deep trench through concrete before coming to a halt.
Zazm rose slowly, brushing dust and broken cement from his clothes. His coat was torn, but his face remained unchanged. Calm. Detached.
From the smoke, a figure appeared.
The man walked with a swagger, his hair dyed in violent streaks of crimson and green. His face was a patchwork of metal — piercings lined his lips, nose, eyebrows, ears, even across his cheeks. Chains jingled with each step. His grin was sharp and mocking.
"So it's true," the man said, his voice raspy but amused. "You're one of the big bites. The Obsidian Fang's dog. I thought you'd be taller."
Zazm's eyes stayed fixed on him. Silent.
The man tilted his head, fangs glinting when he smiled wider. "What's wrong? No introduction? No name? Or are you one of those mute types?"
Zazm finally spoke, his tone flat, stripped of emotion.
"Where is your leader?"
The man chuckled, then broke into a laugh, clutching his stomach. "Oh, you think you can just walk in here, ask for the big boss, and I'll just hand him over? Hah! You really think—"
Before he could finish, Zazm blinked out of sight.
The man's laughter cut short. His eyes widened —
— and Zazm was already in front of him. His fist snapped forward like lightning.
The impact echoed like a cannon. The man's body didn't even move — but his head exploded into a spray of blood and bone, bursting like a balloon under pressure. The rest of his body swayed, twitching for a second, before collapsing into the rubble with a wet thud.
Zazm lowered his fist, speaking quietly.
"Suit yourself."
He turned, stepping out of the cratered plaza.
The devastation around him came into view. The city stretched endlessly, skyscrapers groaning as they leaned, flames crawling up their sides. The ground itself trembled under distant bombardments. The streets were littered with wreckage: cars split in half, children's toys lying in the bloodstained dust, store signs flickering with broken neon.
But there were no screams. No rushing survivors. Only silence. Only the dead.
Zazm's eyes flicked to the shadows of collapsed structures. Underneath the rubble, he saw crushed bodies — men, women, children — twisted and lifeless. His gaze didn't falter.
Then, movement.
From the rooftops, from broken windows, from the very streets themselves — hundreds of remnants leapt at once, descending on him like a swarm of insects.
Their faces were twisted, their appewrce tho human was uncanny, their eyes didn't contain any guilt for all the lifes they took.
The air vibrated with their shrieks.
Zazm didn't move. His gaze sharpened, his breathing calm, as though measuring every angle of their descent.
Zazm reached for his hilts.
"I don't have time for this."
The moment his hands touched them, both swords ignited — the violet and the pale white. Their light bathed the ruined street, searing against the black smoke.
In an instant, Zazm vanished.
The remnants lunged where he had been standing — only to realize too late.
A line of glowing arcs split through the air.
Zazm reappeared a dozen meters away, both blades humming softly. Behind him, silence reigned.
Then the remnants' bodies began to fall.
One by one, two by two, in chunks of threes and fours. Heads, torsos, limbs — raining down in a grotesque storm of meat. Dozens collapsed in pools of blood, the ground slick and red. The swarm had been alive one moment, and in the blink of an eye, it was slaughtered to the last body.
The plaza was now a graveyard.
Zazm exhaled softly, sheathing his hilts. The glow of his swords died, leaving the air thick with the iron stench of blood.
He turned his head slightly. The city groaned around him — a skyscraper in the distance gave way, collapsing floor by floor, sending a mushroom of dust into the sky. Fires raged louder, consuming what little hadn't already been destroyed.
Zazm's eyes swept the streets again. Bodies under rubble. Crushed cars. A woman's hand sticking out from under a collapsed café. Nothing alive.
For a moment, he stood still, the flames reflecting in his eyes. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't angry. He was simply… calculating.
War had hollowed this city into a tomb.
The fires hadn't stopped spreading. Whole blocks of Uroun were swallowed in collapsing towers, streets fractured into sinkholes, and the dead lined every corner like abandoned dolls. The air was a haze of dust and ash, and yet within the silence, Zazm's ears caught it—
movement under rubble.
He turned slightly, eyes narrowing.
"What's the situation?"
From the smoking ruins, a girl stumbled out. Her uniform was torn, soot smeared across her cheek, but her expression was steady. Striking light blye eyes glowed through the haze beneath the curtain of her blue hair, cropped short just above her shoulders, rough and uneven as if cut by a blade in haste.
Despite her soot-stained face, her features were sharp, disciplined, her jaw set with an almost soldierly severity. She placed her hand against her chest, bowing quickly.
"Sir Zazm… the situation is bad. At least a fourth of the population never reached the bunkers. They're trapped… or worse."
Another figure appeared behind her. A boy, tall, lean but wiry with muscle, twin katanas strapped across his back. His neck bore a thick scar that ran in a circle covering his entire neck, like someone who was brutally strangled.
His arm, blistered and red, carried the mark of a long burn. His fists were trembling, veins bulging with rage.
His dark green eyes burned like embers.
"Those bastards… I'll kill every last one of them."
His voice cracked like breaking glass. The anger wasn't theatrical—it was suffocating, the kind of fury that boiled under his skin with nowhere to go.
A calmer presence followed. A boy with long golden hair tied loosely back, his steps quiet, measured. He carried nothing in his hands—until he raised one palm and a massive greatsword shimmered into existence, the blade black and blue, humming with condensed vana energy. His tone was level, collected.
"There are no survivors here. Not in this district."
The weight of his words was crushing.
Another girl dropped from a ledge above, landing lightly with twin glass-like daggers glinting in her hands. Her eyes—identical to the first girl's—were brighter, softer, framed by long hair tied into a loose braid that swung down her shoulder, streaked faintly with silver at the tips.
Her face was gentler, rounded compared to her sister's sharper angles, her mouth quick to curve into a smile even when surrounded by carnage. Her tone was warm.
"Sir Zazm, thanks for keeping the portal open. We nearly missed it."
Zazm's gaze slid back to the first girl.
"Luna. Take your sister. Go west. There are survivors hiding there."
Luna's expression didn't falter. Duty lined every word as she nodded.
"Understood." She turned, calling softly, "Yuna, with me."
But before they could leave, Zazm's voice cut across the burning street again.
"Wait. The west is crawling with remnants—two-star threats, dozens of one-stars."
Yuna, the shy girl who had quietly slipped behind her sister's shoulder, tightened her grip on her daggers. Her eyes wavered but she raised her chin, speaking quickly, almost defensively.
"We can handle that much, Sir Zazm. It's nothing we can't kill."
Zazm's tone didn't change, as steady as stone.
"Don't bother. I'll take care of them."
Luna tilted her head, curiosity in her calm voice.
"Very well Sir!"
Zazm's eyes shifted—upward, past the smoke, as if reading the entire battlefield in silence. When he spoke, it wasn't a guess. It was fact.
"There are fifty million two-star threats. Fifteen million one-stars. And twelve zero-stars. Rhyes and Neo are engaging the closest zero-star threats now. One-stars infest every street."
The boy with the burn scars—Shin—tightened his grip on his dual katanas. His whole body was shaking with the need to move, to cut, to release his anger.
"Twelve zero-stars? Then they're leading this slaughter."
Zazm gave a single, sharp nod.
Shin shifted, about to launch himself forward—but Zazm's gaze pinned him down.
"Shin. You and Ruon stay here. With me."
Shin's jaw clenched, his fists whitening. His rage wanted to rebel, to fight, but he lowered his head just enough, his voice tight. "...Fine."
Behind him, the calm one Suon lifted his long blade, balancing its massive weight like it was nothing. He rolled his shoulders back, voice unhurried, eyes never leaving Zazm.
"Then give us orders. Who are we covering you from?"
The answer came instantly.
From every street, from the roofs, from the flames themselves—remnants swarmed. Crawling on all fours, sprinting on twisted limbs, blades and teeth glinting in the firelight. Their cries shattered the silence of the dead city.
Zazm turned, raising his glowing sword toward Luna. In a flash of light, both she and Yuna vanished.
—
When Luna and Yuna reappeared, they were standing on cobblestones in a smaller mountain-ringed city, the air thinner, colder. Smoke still drifted in the distance, but here, at least, there was sky enough to breathe.
Yuna looked around quickly, daggers ready.
"What just happened?"
Luna didn't hesitate. Her grip tightened on her glass swords.
"Sir Zazm teleported us here."
Yuna blinked, cheeks red, her voice soft.
"He… really is amazing."
Luna smirked faintly as she adjusted her stance.
"Funny. Wasn't it you who was terrified of him when we first met?"
Yuna ducked her head, embarrassed.
"Anyone would be. He's… a Remnant. And not just that. A zero-class Remnant."
Luna didn't stop moving, eyes fixed ahead as her blades shimmered faintly.
"At first, I didn't understand why the council allowed him. Why they trusted him. But now…" She drew a deep breath. "Now I see. We're lucky he's on our side."
Yuna, hiding half her face behind her sister's shoulder, gave a small nod.
"Then why didn't Captain Neo take us with him?"
Luna smiled softly.
"Captain Neo may act cold, may act distant. But he cares. He wouldn't have left us behind unless he thought this was where we were needed."
Their conversation broke as Luna slowed, gaze snapping forward. Her tone sharpened.
"Get ready. Several vana-level signatures. Strong ones."
And then the remnants appeared. Dozens, flooding the mountain clearing like rabid animals.
Yuna's shy expression melted away. Her daggers gleamed as she leapt skyward, summoning a platform of shimmering ice beneath her boots. From her outstretched hand, razor ice spikes erupted in a storm, skewering the first wave of remnants.
One lunged up at her, sword raised—she dropped low, daggers flashing, blocking its strike before slicing clean through its neck. Another came from behind; she ducked, spun, kicked its jaw, then pivoted and rammed her blade through its throat.
The first remnant staggered back up—only for a massive spike to erupt from Yuna's spine, impaling it mid-lunge. Her eyes, glowing faintly blue, locked on the next wave. She flicked a dagger forward—it embedded into a remnant's skull—then dozens of ice shards burst outward from that dagger, shredding every creature around it.
The ground beneath her froze. She planted both daggers in the stone, spun in a perfect circle, and the entire clearing froze solid—mountainside trees, soil, and the remnants themselves. She clapped her hands once, and every frozen enemy shattered into a thousand shards of glittering ice.
Luna's fight was colder. Cleaner. She stabbed one glass sword into the ground, her vana humming. Darker, heavier ice erupted outward, swallowing enemies in jagged spines. Unlike Yuna's, it wasn't quick death.
Her ice was poisonous—any remnant that so much as grazed it dropped to their knees, gasping, as the frost began crawling into their veins, freezing their organs one by one.
Luna's voice was calm as she stepped past their writhing bodies.
"Unlike Yuna, my ice doesn't kill instantly. Even the smallest cut is enough to freeze your organs from the inside out. Use your vana to keep your body warm…" Her eyes swept their shivering forms. "…if you can."
Yuna glanced at her sister—half proud, half unsettled—as the corpses shattered behind them.
---
The city burned. Black smoke bled into the sky, fire crawling up broken skyscrapers as steel and glass crumbled into the streets. Every alley screamed with steel-on-steel, gunfire, and death.
And then—
a figure dropped into the chaos.
Neo landed hard in the middle of the avenue, his dual blades already in hand. The cracked asphalt spat dust around him. He didn't pause. He was moving the instant his boots hit the ground.
The first remnant rushed, sword raised high. Neo's blade cut through his chest before the man's swing came down. The second remnant tried to follow up—his head was gone before he even reached Neo.
Three more came from behind. Neo spun once—steel flashed—and all three collapsed, cut apart mid-strike.
One second. Five dead.
He exhaled sharply, his voice flat.
"Pathetic."
The street erupted with enemies. Dozens, then hundreds, rushing at him with swords, rifles, spears—steel shrieking in the firelight. Neo blurred, vanishing into the swarm.
For the soldiers watching, it was chaos. One moment, the remnants pressed forward. The next, bodies collapsed in showers of blood, weapons clattering uselessly to the ground.
Neo reappeared among them only in flickers—an elbow smashing a jaw, a blade carving through three at once, a head rolling before the body even realized it was dead.
He wasn't fighting like a man. He was fighting like a storm. Every strike was the shortest path to death. Every motion killed three more.
A squad of Obsidian Fang fighters were pinned in a ruined intersection, a ring of remnants tightening around them, weapons raised. Their captain shouted hoarsely, trying to hold the line—when suddenly, steel split the air.
In an instant, ten remnants fell, their bodies cut open at impossible angles. Neo was in the middle of them, swords dripping.
The captain's eyes widened. "C-Captain Neo, we—"
Neo didn't even glance at him. His voice cut like his blades—short, merciless.
"Shut up. Hold formation, or stay out of my way."
And then he vanished.
What followed wasn't a fight. It was slaughter.
Remnants closed in on the Fang squad—only to collapse all at once, Neo carving through them in a blind flash, faster than they could raise their weapons. A dozen swords clashed toward him—he stepped inside the formation, spun once, and twelve men fell in halves, blood spraying against shattered concrete.
Gunfire cracked. Bullets never landed—Neo was already past them, blades carving through the shooters before the triggers reset.
To the Fang squad, it was impossible to track. Neo wasn't a man in battle—he was a blur cutting the battlefield apart, tearing through trained remnants by the dozens every second.
One soldier whispered, awestruck,
"…he's killing a hundred a minute."
Bodies stacked high around him, but Neo didn't slow. His blades kept moving, relentless, merciless, as if time itself was against him. Blood drenched the street. His eyes never softened. His breath never faltered.
Finally, he paused only long enough to glance toward the horizon—where more remnants massed, weapons raised, an army waiting to crash down. His jaw tightened.
"If this is all they've got…" his voice was low, sharp, urgent, "…then they've already lost."
Neo raised his blades, stepped forward, and disappeared again—ripping headlong into the swarm.
Every time Neo moved hundreds of corpses fell most of them died before even realized what had happened.
"Hey look there." A soldier pointed at Neo as he walked through the field covered in blood. Around him were hundreds of thousands of corpses.
No it was more like he was wet from blood.
Neo clicked his tongue, "Tch how many of them are there?"
Before he could have the time to adjust a huge mace hit him sending him flying.
Neo staggered back, spitting blood. His ribs ached from the giant's mace, the impact still ringing in his bones. He dragged his sleeve across his mouth, crimson streaking his cheek.
"Tch… finally, something different."
The twelve-foot brute stood before him, mace resting on his shoulder, grin stretched wide. The street cracked beneath his steps. "I'll crush you into paste."
Before Neo could answer, his instincts screamed. He tilted his head just enough—steel hissed past, a katana slicing the air where his neck had been. The woman landed lightly, blade steady, her eyes cold.
Neo slid back, both blades raised. His breath was calm, but his gaze sharpened.
'…She's fast. No hesitation. And that cut earlier… she should've been dead from that angle. Healing, then?? Annoying.'
Flames whistled toward him—five orbs, burning hot. Neo dashed sideways, twisting between two, batting the third aside. The heat grazed his cheek.
'Flame...'
The ground lurched. Neo jumped just as stone erupted beneath him, jagged spikes tearing through asphalt where he'd stood. The giant laughed, swinging his mace again. Neo barely flipped over it, the sheer wind force rattling his bones.
'And him. Earth manipulation. Strong, but slow.'
A crack split the air. Neo's head snapped to the side—something whistled past, close enough to tear his ear. He landed, eyes narrowing. Behind the others, a thin man stood with his arm raised, blood dripping down his forearm into a rifle-shaped construct of the same crimson fluid.
'…A sniper, he's using his blood for bullets he won't be a problem...'
A hiss rose from the left. Smoke. Thick, green, acidic on the nose. Neo pulled his collar tight, leaping clear as the fog spread over the street. The soldier inside exhaled, lungs pumping toxins into the air, eyes gleaming with venom.
'Poison related abilities? He wouldn't be a problem.'
The ground sizzled. A blade slashed low, but the concrete beneath melted in a spray of acid where the strike landed. Another man stood there, hands dripping corrosive liquid that ate through stone and steel alike.
Neo's eyes narrowed as he twisted back, narrowly avoiding a splash that burned holes in the asphalt.
'Acid!? One touch, and my flesh is gone. '
A whisper of steel—Neo's sword came up just in time. His blade locked against another's—this one wasn't fast, but her eyes… her eyes were already watching where his sword would swing next. Neo shifted left—she was already there. He twisted right—her sword met his blade instantly.
Her lips curled faintly. "Nice try..."
Neo shoved her back, sparks flying.
'Predictive ability. She can read my movements.'
He skidded to a stop, chest rising and falling, blades dripping with blood already crusted from the earlier slaughter. The seven of them fanned out, forming a half-circle, cutting off his exits. The giant mace bearer slammed his weapon into the ground, stone pillars jutting upward to trap Neo in place.
The woman with the katana smirked, eyes glinting.
"Seven against oneThis ends here."
'Seven? No there is another one.'
Neo stood silent, his expression flat, unreadable. Inside, his thoughts were calm, dissecting.
'Eight of them. One giant brute with earth. One healing katana user. One precog. One sniper with blood. One poison cloud. One acid strike. One flame caster. One more I haven't seen yet…but they are here.'
His grip tightened around his blades. A faint smirk flickered at his lips.
"…Hmph. Guess this won't be boring after all."
The giant roared, swinging his mace down with the force of an avalanche. The fight began in earnest.
The giant's mace came down like a collapsing building. Neo didn't move away—he stepped into it. The weapon slammed into his chest, bones audibly crunching, the shockwave blasting apart the ground.
The brute smirked—until his face twisted in confusion.
Cracks spread across his own arms. His wrist snapped violently backwards, as if the force of the blow had turned on him. The mace clattered from his grip, stone spikes shattering. He roared in disbelief.
Neo's voice was cold, sharp.
"You hit me? No. You hit yourself."
Before the brute could recover, Neo was gone. A blur.
He reappeared behind the blood-sniper, blades already red. The man's eyes widened—he raised his blood-rifle instinctively, firing point-blank. Bullets of congealed crimson punched through Neo's torso.
The sniper's grin froze. The same bullets burst out of his own chest, tearing holes through his ribs. He coughed blood, staring at Neo in shock.
Neo whispered at his ear.
"What type of sniper reveals his location?"
The man collapsed, lifeless.
—One down.
Flames roared from the caster's palms, scorching the battlefield. Neo slipped through them like smoke, his body translucent, fire passing harmlessly through. He burst out of the blaze, slicing across the caster's throat in a single fluid motion. The body dropped before the scream even formed.
—Two down.
"Damn you!" The poison wielder bellowed, lungs expanding. A thick green haze exploded outward, rolling across the avenue. Soldiers nearby gagged instantly, skin blistering. The healing woman barked, "Stay in the gas! Don't let him get close!"
Neo vanished into the cloud. Silence.
Then came the shriek. The poison wielder stumbled out of his own miasma, throat slit wide open, blood foaming down his chest. He collapsed into his own toxic mist, his body twitching.
—Three down.
Neo emerged from the gas, unscathed, eyes scanning the field. His breathing hadn't changed. His tone was colder than the flames still burning around him.
"If I could I'll make you suffer for every life you took...."
The acid user gritted his teeth, palms bubbling with corrosive liquid. He hurled a spray, melting stone to sludge where Neo had been a second ago. The ground hissed, steaming.
Neo blurred. The acid wielder's eyes darted, panicked—he could feel the presence behind him, but too late. A ghostlike hand clamped onto his wrist, forcing him to throw his own acid upward. The liquid splashed across his face, searing skin, boiling flesh.
His screams echoed across the ruined street. Neo drove his sword through his heart, ending it.
—Four down.
The remaining four spread out instantly, shaken now. The giant with earth powers, his left arm fractured, roared in frustration, summoning a ring of jagged boulders around Neo.
The woman stood at his side, katana raised, lips twisted in a cruel smile. Beside her, the precognitive girl narrowed her eyes, reading every shift of Neo's stance.
The giant bellowed, his voice rattling windows.
"You think this is over?! You'll fall here!"
Neo spun his blades once, blood raining from the edges. His voice cut through the smoke and fire.
"You've already lost. The only thing left… is how long you'll drag it out."
The four advanced.
The battle wasn't ending—it was only getting sharper.
The earth giant roared, slamming his fists into the ground. Spires of jagged rock erupted upward, tearing through streets and buildings like fangs. Neo blurred between them, weaving effortlessly through the collapsing terrain.
The giant swung his mace with one good arm, the shockwave cracking the air. Neo didn't dodge. He stepped into the strike again. The weapon struck his chest with earth-shattering force, but instead of breaking, the giant's arm splintered further, bone cracking all the way up to the shoulder. He screamed.
Neo appeared behind him, blades already raised.
One clean slash. The giant's head toppled, his body crumbling forward with a seismic crash.
—Five down.
The precog girl was already moving before his sword finished the arc. Her eyes flickered, reading every twitch of his muscles, every step, every feint. Her body twisted unnaturally, dodging strikes she hadn't seen yet. Neo's blades missed by fractions of an inch, steel singing through the air.
She smirked faintly.
"You can't hit me."
Neo vanished.
The girl's breath hitched—her vision shattered. His movements weren't movements anymore. They weren't patterns she could predict. He wasn't where he was supposed to be.
A blade slid across her throat before she even understood the angle. Her eyes widened, hands clutching the wound as blood sprayed.
Neo whispered as she fell, voice flat:
"Then you didn't see this."
—Six down.
Only the woman remained. She stood her ground, katana raised. A grin cut across her face, sharp and confident.
"You can't kill me."
Neo said nothing. He was already in front of her.
His blade cut through her ribs. She staggered, but kept laughing.
"I told you… I don't die!"
He cut again, this time straight through her neck. Her head rolled across the cracked pavement—then her body twitched, skin knitting, flesh pulling itself back together. Her eyes opened, lips curling into a bloodied smirk.
"See?"
Neo's expression didn't change. His blade moved again. Then again. Then again. Her body was carved into pieces, shredded, crushed, reduced to fragments. And still, the pieces crawled back together, twitching, reforming.
At last, her smirk wavered. Her voice broke.
"Stop—! Please—! I told you, I can't die! You can cut me a thousand times and it won't matter!"
Neo stared down at her, cold eyes unblinking.
"Then I'll make sure you wish you could."
One slash—her arms fell limp to the ground. Another slash—her legs. She collapsed, helpless, blood soaking the broken earth.
Neo gripped a handful of her long hair, dragging her across the battlefield, her screams cutting through the silence. She kicked weakly, snarling, begging, but he didn't even look down at her.
Her katana clattered uselessly in the dirt.
Neo's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut deeper than his blade.
"Immortality doesn't mean freedom. It just means I get to keep you alive while you break."
The soldiers who'd been watching from a distance shivered, unable to breathe. The battlefield was quiet again—except for the sound of her body being dragged through ash and rubble.
Neo didn't slow. His blades were still dripping, his eyes already searching the horizon for the next wave.
—Seven down.
Neo looked around he didn't let his guard down. 'I am sure there was presence of another.'
He turned to the woman but she was already unconscious, Neo kicked her off throwing her in the rubble as he sat down for a second.
"Fucking useless.....I used to much vana..."
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