His voice was gentle. Too gentle.
His gaze swept across the paralyzed hunters, his golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"The hunters I killed…"
A pause.
Then
"I can bring them back."
Lucas' breath caught in his throat.
His mind screamed at him that it was impossible.
Dead was dead.
Yet
Timas lifted a single hand and uttered a single word.
"Return."
There was no flash of light.
No grand magical display.
No sound.
Just
They stood up.
One by one, the fallen hunters rose, their broken bodies perfectly restored, their lifeless eyes blinking in confusion as if they had merely woken from a deep sleep.
It was unnatural.
There was no trace of injury. No sign they had ever died.
Lucas felt a cold sweat crawl down his back.
This wasn't healing.
This wasn't resurrection magic.
This was something else.
And it terrified him.
No one spoke.
No one even dared to breathe loudly.
The overwhelming silence stretched for what felt like eternity until a system notification shattered it.
A translucent window materialized before Lucas.
[A hunter of SS-rank has been detected. Do you wish to display their status window?]
His fingers trembled.
But he pressed [YES].
The Status Window
The data appeared instantly.
And Lucas felt his stomach drop.
Name: Timas – The Dual Sage
Rank: SS
Skills:
[Sever] – The ability to tear bodies apart with mere thought.
[Blood Absorption] – Every time he kills someone, he absorbs their blood and temporarily increases his power.
[Return] – After taking his victim's blood, he can bring them back to life.
Lucas' grip tightened.
"This… This is insane!"
These weren't just overpowered skills.
They were monstrous.
[Sever] meant no physical attack was needed he could kill with a thought.
[Blood Absorption] meant every kill made him stronger turning every battle into a one-sided massacre.
And worst of all
[Return].
A skill that defied death itself.
Timas could kill you… and bring you back whenever he wanted.
This wasn't just power.
This was absolute control over life and death.
Lucas' heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Then
Another system message appeared.
And this time
It nearly stopped his heart.
[A candidate to become your follower has been detected.]
[However, to obtain this follower… you must kill him.]
Lucas' entire body went stiff.
"What?"
The system continued.
[To grant Timas a system like André's, you must defeat him.]
Lucas' fingers clenched into fists.
His breathing became uneven.
Slowly very slowly he lifted his gaze.
Timas was still standing there.
Still calm.
Still untouchable.
As if the very idea of being threatened was laughable.
Kill him?
Lucas swallowed hard.
This… This is impossible! With my current strength… I don't stand a chance!
He wasn't just outmatched.
He was nothing compared to Timas.
Yet
The system had given him this mission.
And it had never been wrong before.
Which meant…
Somehow…
Someway…
He had to kill an SS-rank monster.
---
Timas stood before the hunters, his cold eyes gleaming under the glow of the scattered magic stones. In a quiet yet commanding voice, he said:
"Collect the magic stones… then let's go kill the Dungeon Master."
No one needed to hear the order twice. Even the strongest hunters didn't hesitate for a second. Their movements were mechanical, as if they were mere puppets executing his will without thought. Fear had seeped into their very bones, making them obey as if he were their absolute master.
Moments later, they followed Timas into the depths of the dungeon. The place was vast, its corridors seemingly endless.
Then, after a long march, they all stopped in front of a massive, imposing door, an eerie energy radiating from it, almost as if it were watching them.
Without hesitation, Timas raised his hand and slowly pushed the door open.
Inside, the sight was unexpected.
Seated upon a throne was an extremely thin man with long black hair, draped in a tattered black cloak.
As soon as his gaze fell upon the group, he smirked mockingly and spoke in a soft voice, yet his power was undeniable:
"Hmm… Intruders? Oh, but there's someone… interesting among you."
Timas did not like the way he spoke. His gaze locked onto the frail man, and with an icy tone, he said:
"Silence."
Then, without hesitation, he uttered:
"Sever."
But… nothing happened.
A deadly silence filled the room.
Shock washed over everyone.
Lucas, the hunters, even Timas himself… None of them understood.
The frail man rose slowly, his smirk widening.
"Heh… You seem like fun, old man."
Hhhhhhh
---
His voice was gentle. Too gentle.
His gaze swept across the paralyzed hunters, his golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"I won't kill you."
His words echoed in the silent chamber like a death sentence.
"But in return… you will take me outside this dungeon."
No one moved. No one dared to speak. The fear was suffocating, tightening around their throats like an invisible noose.
Even Timas felt it.
And he hated it.
His fingers twitched. His instincts screamed at him. This thing sitting before them, this fragile looking man wrapped in shadows… couldn't be killed.
Timas gritted his teeth. No. No, that was impossible.
He refused to accept that someone could defy his power.
His lips curled into a twisted grin.
"Hah… Hahaha… You think I can't kill you?"
The hunters flinched at his voice.
Timas spread his arms wide, his blood-red wings exploding from his back like a monstrous deity descending upon the battlefield.
The air thickened.
The walls trembled.
Then
"Sever."
In an instant, everyone died.
Everyone.
André.
Lucas.
The hunters.
No screams. No resistance.
They simply… split apart.
Blood sprayed across the dungeon walls like an artist's final masterpiece.
Bodies fell, lifeless.
Timas exhaled, eyes wild, lips curling into a grin of pure dominance.
"Now… Let's see how unkillable you really are."
He ascended, wings beating against the dungeon air. His hands stretched outward, and
Dozens. No, hundreds. Thousands of blood spheres formed above him.
They pulsed, vibrating with an unspeakable hunger.
He gazed down at the frail man below.
"Accept this gift from me."
And then
He let them fall.
A crimson rain.
A massacre forged from his own power.
A storm of absolute destruction.
Yet
The man simply sighed.
A slow, disappointed sigh.
Like a teacher watching a foolish student.
"My friend," he muttered. "I do not wish to hurt you."
Timas' breath hitched.
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly, horribly wrong.
The blood spheres froze.
Not burst. Not redirected.
Just… stopped.
Mid-air.
As if time itself had halted.
And then
The man's golden eyes bore into Timas.
"You are very, very stupid."
The blood spheres…
Vanished.
Timas felt it immediately.
An absence. A void. A terrifying nothingness.
His body locked in place.
His wings stopped beating.
He wasn't moving.
He wasn't falling.
He was simply
Frozen.
Not by force.
Not by magic.
Not even by will.
Just… stopped.
Like a story that had run out of ink.
Like a song that had forgotten its next note.
Like a man who no longer had permission to move.
A sensation he had never felt before.
His mind screamed.
His soul revolted.
Yet
He. Could. Do. Nothing.
The man tilted his head, his expression one of mild amusement.
"Tell me, Timas… Did you just kill your comrades?"
Timas' eyes widened.
He had.
They were dead.
All of them.
And yet
The man chuckled.
"Alright, alright. That's enough. Stand up, all of you."
The bodies moved.
The severed limbs stitched back together.
The torn flesh rewove itself, as if time had never touched them.
They stood.
Lucas. André. The hunters.
All of them.
Whole.
Alive.
Unharmed.
Timas' breath hitched.
This…
This wasn't resurrection.
This wasn't healing.
This was…
Undoing.
And Timas realized something.
This wasn't power.
This was authority.
The authority to decide what was real… and what wasn't.
And right now
Timas was nothing but a puppet in the hands of a *****.
Timas felt fear.
The man smirked.
"Good. You're starting to understand."