Seo MinHyun couldn’t breathe properly. Neither could Park Taegun. Kang Juwon, whose own aura could send B-rank hunters to their knees, was gritting his teeth to stay upright.

  What… happened to him?

  What was he going to do?

  They didn’t have answers, only a rapidly growing fear.

  Lee Aseok didn’t look at them. Not once.

  His gaze remained fixed on the fallen sword.

  “I treated you like life,” he whispered. “Even at the very end, when you stayed silent. I never hated you. I should’ve, but I didn’t.”

  A bitter smile curved his lips. “But then… Why did you come back to me?”

  Mu Yichen stepped forward, the only one among them who could stand freely. His own sword trembled in his grip, not from fear, but from the weight of the moment.

  He inhaled deeply and said, “Lee Aseok. Listen to me.”

  Still, no response.

  “I don’t know what you went through,” Mu Yichen continued, carefully. “But this isn’t the way. Don’t let your pain turn into something you can’t come back from. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  Lee Aseok finally turned.

  The smile on his face had no warmth. His red-tinted eyes reflected nothing human.

  “You people are so noisy.”

  It was the only warning they got.

  With a flick of his hand, the energy burst outward—not aimed at the ground, or the sky.

  But at them.

  Park Taegun barely had time to raise his arms in defense when he was flung like a ragdoll into a broken building. The shockwave shattered the wall behind him.

  Kang Juwon followed a split-second later, slammed into a mangled car that crumpled beneath the force.

  Seo MinHyun, caught mid-motion, was lifted off his feet and thrown through a cracked concrete pillar, coughing blood as he crumpled to the ground.

  “Damn it…!” MinHyun cursed through gritted teeth, barely conscious.

  Mu Yichen’s sword was raised, his aura flaring in time to shield himself. He slid backward, boots dragging across the ground, but he remained standing.

  The street was silent again—except for the low hum of Lee Aseok’s gathering energy.

  He stood like a god unchained, a force no longer interested in morality or restraint.

  His chest rose and fell unevenly. Not from exhaustion.

  From grief.

  From something much deeper.

  In his past life, he had never blamed the holy sword for what had happened. Even when the world turned its back on him, even when he was discarded, even when he lay dying in that hellish wasteland—

  He never blamed the sword.

  It had been his only companion, his only belief.

  The weapon of the chosen hero.

  But in the final hour, when betrayal had ripped through his lungs and he reached for salvation, the sword had not come.

  It had hovered. Silent. Distant.

  Watching.

  Lee Aseok’s fingers twitched.

  He raised his hand again, his body crackling with a mix of mana and dungeon energy, twisted and fused through his rebirth.

  Around him, the ground blackened. Shards of corrupted stone hovered in the air like broken stars.

  He was going to destroy it.

  The sword.

  The street.

  The city.

  Everything.

  “Don’t do this.”

  Mu Yichen’s voice cut through the growing roar of energy. Not loud. Not commanding.

  But calm.

  “We don’t know what happened to you,” he said, stepping forward even as the pressure grew stronger, “but, this is not right.”

  Lee Aseok stared at him.

  Mu Yichen held his ground.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “You’re not thinking rationally now, let's calm down and go back. We can still talk things through.”

  A second passed.

  Then another.

  Lee Aseok lowered his arm, just slightly.

  But the energy didn’t fade.

  The shattered streets were silent but for the distant echoes of crumbling stone and the soft hiss of charged energy hanging thick in the air.

  Lee Aseok stood motionless, his iron rod loosely held in one hand.

  His gaze, cold and merciless, swept over the gathered figures before him, Park Taegun, Seo MinHyun, and Kang Juwon, who still struggled to regain their footing after the devastating blast had sent them crashing into the broken remnants of a nearby building.

  A slow, cruel smile crept across Lee Aseok’s face, one that held no warmth or humor, only icy disdain.

  “You’re all too noisy,” he said, voice low but biting.

  With a casual wave of his hand, a surge of raw, violent energy erupted around him, sharp and cutting like the edge of a blade.

  Before anyone could react, the three S-rank hunters were flung once again, their bodies slammed mercilessly into the shattered walls of the ruin. Dust and debris exploded into the air.

  Park Taegun grunted in pain as he struggled to push himself up, Seo MinHyun groaned, clutching his ribs, and Kang Juwon’s face twisted with both pain and disbelief.

  Only Mu Yichen remained standing, his sword drawn and posture steady. His eyes, sharp and serious, locked on Lee Aseok with a mixture of concern and resolve.

  “I don’t understand what’s come over you,” Mu Yichen said, voice steady despite the chaos. “But I won’t let you do anything irrational.”

  There was something about Mu Yichen’s confidence, a calm born from being the only SSS-rank hunter in this world, that made his words carry weight. He was the pinnacle of strength here.

  But in the presence of Lee Aseok’s storm, that confidence felt fragile. Like a candle flickering against an approaching hurricane.

  Lee Aseok raised his iron rod. A simple, battered weapon that had seen countless battles, yet it seemed to hum with quiet menace now.

  Mu Yichen raised his sword in response, its blade shimmering with divine light.

  Their eyes met.

  Mu Yichen’s were filled with sadness and sorrow.

  “I won’t give up on you,” he said quietly, voice cracking under the strain.

  Lee Aseok sneered, a sound devoid of humor or respect.

  “Pathetic,” he spat.

  Without hesitation, he lunged forward.

  The air snapped with the force of their collision.

  Steel and iron met with a thunderous clang.

  Mu Yichen’s eyes widened in shock.

  His sword trembled.

  Not from fear, but from something else.

  Power. Wild, unrestrained power.

  Lee Aseok stood before him, hair whipping wildly in the fierce wind that erupted around them, his presence overwhelming and raw.

  “You’re weak,” Lee Aseok said, voice low and cruel.

  Before Mu Yichen could recover, a brutal kick connected squarely with his stomach.

  The impact knocked the air from Mu Yichen’s lungs.

  He was sent flying, crashing into the ruined walls of a nearby building with a bone-jarring thud.

  Groaning, Mu Yichen struggled to rise, but his vision blurred and his body ached from the blow.

  Lee Aseok stood tall, gaze sweeping across the ruined battlefield.

  Far away, from the shadows and hidden rooftops, other hunters watched the scene unfold.

  Their eyes were wide with shock, whispers filling the gaps of silence.

  Why were the hero and his team, once united, now fighting each other?

  What madness had taken root in Lee Aseok’s heart?

  The world was crumbling around them.

  And beneath the collapsing sky, an unstoppable storm was rising.

  The ruined city around them lay shrouded in dust and silence, a shattered testament to the chaos unleashed just moments ago.

  Lee Aseok’s eyes scanned the distance. Far off, hidden in shadowed corners and behind crumbling walls, dozens of hunters watched intently.

  Their faces were pale, wide-eyed, and filled with disbelief. Whispers fluttered among them like frightened birds, questions and fears tangled in the air.

  Why was the chosen hero fighting his own team? Why had the unity of the greatest hunters shattered so suddenly? Was this the beginning of something far worse?

  But Lee Aseok didn’t care.

  He ignored the gazes, the questions, the creeping dread in their eyes. To them, he was a mystery. To him, they were irrelevant.

  Slowly, deliberately, Lee Aseok raised his hands.

  The iron rod hung loosely in one grasp as if it were a mere prop to the storm building inside him.

  His entire body throbbed with raw, unmeasurable mana and gate energy, pulsing with a power that defied reason.

  In his previous life, he had fought and bled endlessly.

  Every drop of sacrifice had been twisted into something monstrous by those around him, he had been labeled a villain, a threat, an enemy. The world had never seen his truth.

  So this time, he thought bitterly, he would do what a real villain would do.

  He would burn everything down.

  Just as he began to gather his energy for the inevitable attack, a cracked voice pierced through the tension.

  “Don’t... do anything you’ll regret.”

  Mu Yichen struggled to his feet from where he had been thrown, his mouth stained dark with blood. His voice was strained but steady, carrying the weight of desperation and command.

  Park Taegun, Seo MinHyun, and Kang Juwon emerged from the wreckage of the collapsed building, bruised and battered but resolute. Their expressions were fierce, and their voices rose in unison:

  “Stop this, Lee Aseok! .”

  “You crazy bastard! Are you nuts?!”

  Their voices hung in the thick, electric air.

  But Lee Aseok did not flinch. Not even the faintest flicker of hesitation crossed his face. The cold mask of fury and despair that had settled deep within him held fast.

  It was clear: they were speaking to a ghost who had long since abandoned their hopes.

  As if sensing desperation, the holy sword, once lying discarded on the ground, began to glow again.

  A pale blue and silver light ignited along its blade, shimmering like the last flicker of dawn against the night.

  With a soft hum, the sword floated upright, two meters away from Lee Aseok, its radiant energy a sharp contrast to the storm of dark mana that enveloped his form.

  The tension was suffocating.

  Here stood two opposing forces, both bound by fate yet divided by everything else.

  Lee Aseok, whose entire being radiated unrestrained power and unyielding fury, his eyes burning with a fire no one dared to meet.

  And the holy sword, the symbol of hope, justice, and the world’s last desperate chance, shining pure and cold, waiting silently for its chosen wielder to return.

  For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

  No one dared move.

  Hunters frozen in place, hearts pounding, minds racing to comprehend the impossible scene.

  The hero, the so-called savior of mankind, standing opposed to the very emblem of his destiny.

  In that charged silence, Lee Aseok’s voice broke through, calm but dripping with disdain.

  “If this sword treats me like a weapon to be discarded... then I will destroy everything it holds dear.”

  The energy around him surged, thick and suffocating.

  Mu Yichen gripped his sword tighter, his voice unwavering.

  “Don't let the rage blind you, Aseok. You need to calm down.”

  But Lee Aseok only laughed—a cold, bitter sound that echoed through the ruins like a death knell. He knew this rage wasn’t normal… but he didn’t care.

  “No,” he said, voice low and deadly. “This is exactly who I am.”

  The standoff stretched on, a knife-edge moment poised between salvation and ruin.

  Around them, the watchers could only hold their breath and pray.

  Because the clash between chosen hero and holy sword would decide not just their fate, but the fate of the entire world.

  The ruined city remained eerily silent, save for the crackling energy pulsating between the two figures standing amid the rubble, Lee Aseok and the holy sword.

  It was a sight so absurd that if someone had drawn it as a comic, they’d be laughed off as a lunatic.

  The chosen hero, small and ragged, clothes torn like he’d wrestled a pack of wild badgers, stood face to face with a glowing sword that hovered midair, radiating an almost smug blue-silver light.

  Author Note:

  Every “OH MY GOD ASEOK STOP” gives me the strength to write the next disaster.

  Mon ? Wed ? Fri

  (Yes, I too question my life choices.)

  https://www.patreon.com/c/LithutheBloom

  please leave a review or rating—it helps summon new victims readers. ??