[It seems that they can see something about her is off, Master.]
Dante nodded with a lazy chuckle.
"Looking at them now, I kinda get it."
His eyes followed the battle below. "When I was seven, I wasn't much better than these idiots." He rested his chin on his hand as he watched the nobles struggle. "Everyone keeps talking about levels, but levels aren't everything. If they were, Vexion would've died already."
He clicked his tongue.
"The way you use your skills matters way more than I thought." His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You were right about stacked skills." He looked down as he scratched his cheek.
"They're busted, still don't fully get why though."
The system responded in its usual calm tone.
[From what I can see, Master, stacked skills are not simply multiple skills placed together.
Look at Vexion. Her skill can induce fear, hesitation, imbalance, and vertigo. Normally, these would be separate abilities. However, they have been integrated into one skill as sub-skills.
As a result, she does not need to activate multiple abilities one after another. One activation allows her to use whichever effects she desires.
For comparison, Ollie possesses both fire and wind skills. He can combine them effectively, but they remain separate abilities. He must activate each individually.
Vexion does not have this limitation.]
Dante picked his nose while listening.
"So they're basically packed together? One skill with a bunch of effects and you use whichever ones you need.?"
[Correct, Master.]
"And optimization is basically forcing separate skills to work together?"
[Correct.]
The system paused before continuing.
[For example, when Master uses Spatial Body, you can remain hidden within space while simultaneously using Step to teleport. They are separate skills being used together as though they were one.]
Dante gave a small nod.
"So that's why she's keeping up? Vexion might just be a genuis. So How big's the gap?"
The system was silent for a moment.
[Approximately five levels.]
Dante blinked.
"Five?"
He let out a low click of his tongue.
"That's actually pretty insane."
His eyes returned to the battlefield.
"Then how the hell haven't they killed her yet?"
"They're older, stronger, and should have way more experience,."
[There are several reasons, Master. First, their teamwork is, as you would say, "shit." They are afraid of harming one another and therefore cannot properly coordinate their attacks.
Second, none of them possess a skill focused entirely on speed or detection. Ollie is faster than Vexion in certain situations, but he cannot reliably track her when she activates her mirages. At the same time, he must also protect the others. Their overall reaction speed is, frankly, "shit."
Lastly, none of them possess passive skills or artifacts designed to resist fear or mental interference. They are only resisting because their levels are significantly higher than hers.]
Dante snorted.
"I see, sounds rough."
He stopped talking and simply watched. The more he watched, the more he realized something, maybe his siblings weren't normal.
Actually, scratch that. They definitely weren't normal. Every single one of them was a monster.
He'd spent so much time fighting them that he'd started treating their strength as the standard.
It wasn't.
They were freaks.
No wonder he'd been so confused whenever he watched other people fight.
Compared to his family, most people looked painfully average.
With that thought in mind, Dante settled back and continued watching the battle unfold.
He then turned his gaze back to the battle.
Vexion stood with a subtle smile, watching the remaining five noble combatants huddle together while another lay bleeding not far from her—a grim reminder that their fate was sealed. With slow, deliberate motions, she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the thrill of battle, then reopened them with renewed focus.
She activated her Legendary skill, Tyrant's Decree. A terrifying force of weight and pressure bore down upon them, physically bringing them to their knees, and in an instant, their earlier anger dissolved into paralyzing fear. This fear was not merely mental—it clutched at their bodies, rendering them nearly immobile. They tried—Ollie, Gaven, Kuran, and Wung—they desperately struggled as their skills sparked in a disjointed, shambolic manner, it was as if the difference in Tiers was physically suppressive. Gaven, on the verge of tears, knew their time was up.
A sadistic smile curled Vexion's lips as she walked toward Gaven. Lifting her leg, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin beneath her martial robe before planting her foot firmly on his face. In her other hand, she held a sword she had took from Kuran.
Slowly, she drove the blade toward Gaven's eye. He screamed or tried to yet could not move—the pressure Vexion radiated locked his body the moment he had faltered. Pausing with wicked enjoyment, she addressed him coolly, "I'm going to take another eye. You can choose, yours or one of the other four."
The remaining combatants paled,
'The subordinate is not so different from the master—both are insane and moved by cruelty. Why do they enjoy causing such suffering?'
Gaven, now suffering blindness and searing pain in one eye, managed a choked, "K-K-Kuran." At that, Kuran's face drained of color as he cursed Gaven in his heart—what had his friend done to him?
Vexion chuckled, her figure gliding to the next victim. The sword in her hand slowly approached Kuran's face; with a precise stroke, it cut along his bottom lip, drawing a thin line of blood. Kuran wanted to scream, to react, yet found himself utterly paralyzed. Gradually, Vexion pried open his mouth with the blade, forcing it past his teeth, slicing his cheeks and tongue as she drove the sword mercilessly through his mouth.
Ollie couldn't comprehend why life could be so cruel.
He watched in horror as his longtime friend suffered an excruciating death—the blood gushing from his mutilated mouth as he struggled to breathe, the blade eventually piercing through and exiting through a gaping wound at the back of his neck. The death was gruesome, every agonizing detail etched into his memory, and not a drop of blood spilled the robe of the one responsible.
'Should we have just taken our chances with escaping?'
Ollie thought bitterly, the notion of fleeing now seeming like a distant possibility. But then, a yawn—so unbothered and almost innocent came above his head—from a little boy with strikingly beautiful features made him doubt that option, if they tried, that monster would have 100% interfered.
He sighed, overwhelmed by despair; all hope had fled, and all he yearned for was an end.
Amid the horror, Ollie's eyes met Vexion's gleeful gaze. He wondered why she had even given them a sliver of hope. What was the point of the fight if she had such a powerful skiill? To toy with them?
As if in answer, Kuran—his friend now barely clinging to life—sighed weakly. When he lifted his eyes, he saw a sword hovering before him. Despite the terror coursing through his veins, the finality of death loomed, and though he longed to surrender, the fear remained. Tears streaked his face as the sword stabbed through his eyes; a heart-wrenching cry of pain and desperate begging was quickly swallowed by the brutal act as the blade tore through his face.
Vexion stood in bliss, the fear and pain she inflicted fueling her growth and strengthening her body and stats to absurd levels. Normally, she could withstand attacks of the highest caliber permitted by her skills, yet with Sovereign's Wrath, she gained strength through the agony she imposed to increase her physique. In the end, she had claimed every life—seven souls extinguished in excruciating ways—all under her unyielding hand. A secret blush warmed her heart as she caught sight of her master's familiar, bored expression. She adored how unruffled he remained in the face of such cruelty.
As a child, though her parents loved her, they had long asked her to hold back her cruel tendencies. For the most part, she had obeyed—until she lost them. That loss had been both a searing pain and a funny way to obtain freedom. She had vowed revenge for her parents' murder, though her resolve was as twisted and lackluster as the dark pleasure she alone seemed to savor.
And yet, her master—twisted in a way that made her heart swell with affection— intrigued her endlessly. She had pushed herself in battle, fighting with only her epic skill to earn his approval. But she had abruptly halted, for epic skills came with too many drawbacks—in her case, they drained her energy and left her utterly spent, that was the difference in tiers, how much mana they took for damage output. Legendary skills used less mana somehow, she didn't quite understand why.
After killing the last of her foes, she turned to see Dante descending, hands tucked casually in his pockets as always. Vexion bowed deeply, her gaze fixed on the floor. Dante nodded approvingly. "Nice work. Thought you would suffer or struggle a lot more than you did. I'm a generous saint so—I'll reward you as promised. Let's go; it's quite late. And im tired"
Vexion smiled as her heart fluttered at her Master's praise. She said nothing, simply following after him. Keeping close, she absorbed every detail—the subtle hint of his scent, his beautiful long hair, his delicately feminine visage, and his effortless nonchalance. All these impressions she longed to etch into her memory.
As an elf, she knew they had a long time ahead of them. Yet she was aware she wouldn't be his only subordinate, so she clung to him, determined to forge a bond that might secure her place in his heart. Her master did not appear psychopathic; rather, he was vicious and cruel, calculating in his actions and indifferent to whether results were achieved more efficiently through cruelty.
Glancing downward, Vexion couldn't help but wonder if he viewed her, a half-elf, with little regard as a lower being. But there was time; perhaps tomorrow she'd find the courage to ask.
For now, as they left, she surveyed the hallways—the very place where she had been beaten and humiliated for so long. And yet, her master had simply entered and done as he pleased. He had even helped her exact revenge on her kidnappers—a debt of gratitude that still warmed her heart.
Stepping out the door, Vexion looked up at the night sky. A genuine smile broke across her face as she realized that, for the first time in a long while, she could truly see the stars. Her heart began to race as she softly called out , show bowed with deep gratitude, "Master."
Dante turned around, his initial confusion dissolving as he pieced everything together. He understood why she had bowed so respectfully and why her gaze was filled with gratitude. Chuckling, he approached her, almost levitating slightly so his hand could reach her head. With a gentle pat, he said nothing more. In that quiet moment, both realized that, at long last, she was free.