The stranger slowly turned.
His gaze swept across the village.
Burning houses.
Collapsed walls.
Terrified villagers frozen in place.
Some clutched their children.
Others knelt beside fallen soldiers.
No one dared to breathe.
The stranger's expression remained calm.
Cold.
Emotionless.
Then he spoke.
"Witnesses cannot exist."
Panic erupted instantly.
"RUN!"
The villagers scattered in every direction.
Children cried.
Mothers screamed.
Men grabbed tools and farming blades, desperate to protect their families.
But it was already too late.
The stranger moved.
And the massacre began.
He vanished.
A moment later, he appeared among a group of fleeing villagers.
A single motion.
A flash of steel.
Blood sprayed across the dirt road.
Three bodies collapsed before their screams could finish leaving their throats.
The stranger continued walking.
Like a shadow drifting through a nightmare.
A farmer rushed forward with a wooden spear.
"Monster!"
The spear never reached its target.
An invisible force crushed the man instantly.
Bones shattered.
His body slammed into the ground like discarded trash.
The pressure of the Peak Zeroth Dominion Realm spread across the village like a collapsing mountain.
People fell to their knees.
Some couldn't even stand.
Others were crushed where they stood.
Houses cracked under the force.
Wood splintered.
Roofs collapsed.
The peaceful village transformed into a nightmare within seconds.
The stranger walked through it all.
Unhurried.
Unstoppable.
Wherever he stepped, life ended.
A woman ran while carrying her child.
A blur of movement.
Both fell.
Two lifeless bodies rolled across the dirt road.
A group of villagers tried to hide inside a house.
The stranger raised his hand.
The entire building collapsed inward with a thunderous crash.
Dust filled the air.
Silence followed.
This was not a battle.
It was extermination.
Flames began spreading across the village.
Smoke curled toward the sky.
Screams echoed in every direction.
Glaze Moon Village—
a place that had existed peacefully for generations—
was being erased.
Through the chaos, one figure ran desperately through the smoke.
A woman.
Her clothes were stained with dirt and ash.
Her breathing was ragged.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
"Saltraf!"
Her voice cracked as she ran.
"Saltraf! Run!"
Hidden behind a wooden fence near the edge of the road, Saltraf froze.
His heart stopped.
It was his mother.
"Saltraf!"
She ran toward him, pushing through smoke and debris.
Her face twisted with fear and desperation.
"Run! You have to run!"
But before she could reach him—
the air shifted.
And the stranger appeared.
Right in front of her.
He had stepped out of nothing.
Like a ghost emerging from the air itself.
She froze.
Her body trembled.
The stranger's gaze slowly moved past her shoulder.
And landed on the boy behind her.
Saltraf.
The stranger's eyes narrowed slightly.
"A witness."
His voice was soft.
Almost thoughtful.
Then—
his sword moved.
It was too fast to see.
Too fast to react.
Too fast for hope.
The blade pierced her chest.
For a moment, the world became silent.
The woman's body trembled.
Blood spread slowly across her clothes.
Her lips parted.
Her eyes searched desperately.
And then they found him.
Her son.
"Sa…ltr…af…"
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Her hand reached toward him.
But it never reached.
Her strength faded.
And her body collapsed.
The world stopped.
Saltraf stared.
His mind refused to understand what he was seeing.
His mother lay on the ground.
Blood pooled beneath her body.
Her eyes stared lifelessly toward the sky.
She wasn't moving.
She wasn't breathing.
She wasn't alive.
Something inside Saltraf shattered.
His chest tightened.
His vision blurred.
His body trembled violently.
A scream rose from deep inside him.
Raw.
Primal.
Uncontrollable.
"YOU!"
The boy lunged forward.
He didn't think.
He didn't hesitate.
There was no fear left in him.
Only rage.
He grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground and rushed toward the stranger.
A twelve-year-old child.
Against a monster capable of destroying armies.
But Saltraf didn't care.
He swung the wooden shard with all his strength.
It struck the stranger's arm.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
And again.
The blows were weak.
Pathetic.
They might as well have been falling leaves.
The stranger didn't even move.
He simply watched the boy.
Silent.
Unimpressed.
Finally—
he moved.
A single strike.
Saltraf's world exploded.
The impact sent him flying through the air like a ragdoll.
His ribs cracked.
Blood burst from his mouth.
Pain flooded every part of his body.
He crashed into the ground and rolled across the dirt.
Everything hurt.
Breathing burned.
His vision spun wildly.
But through the pain…
he still looked toward the stranger.
Toward the man who killed his mother.
The stranger walked slowly toward him.
Each step calm.
Measured.
Unstoppable.
To him, the boy was nothing.
A child without cultivation.
Worthless.
Saltraf tried to move.
His arms trembled.
His body refused to obey.
He was too weak.
Too broken.
Too powerless.
The stranger stopped beside him.
His shadow fell across the boy's broken body.
He raised his sword.
The blade gleamed beneath the pale light of the Glaze Moon.
Saltraf stared at it.
His chest burned.
His vision darkened.
His thoughts became distant echoes.
But one thought remained.
Clear.
Sharp.
Unyielding.
Revenge.
Even if he died…
Even if the world ended…
Even if the heavens themselves crushed him…
He would never forget this moment.
He would never forgive the man standing above him.
The sword began to fall.
And at that exact moment—
something strange happened.
Clang.
The sound echoed softly.
But the blade had not touched him.
It had simply…
stopped.
The wind froze.
The flames stopped moving.
The drifting ash hung motionless in the air.
The stranger remained frozen mid-strike.
Like a statue carved from time itself.
Everything had stopped.
Saltraf blinked weakly.
His fading mind struggled to understand.
The world had become silent.
Too silent.
Time itself…
had stopped.