Chapter 272: When Flowers Bloom Into Death
As I sat there, my mind drifted back to the fight with the Phantom.
The moment I activated Node 3, my body surged with power—more than 500 points added across my stats. That was massive. Honestly, if the Phantom had been made of flesh and bone instead of mist, I would’ve torn it apart, limb from limb, without a second thought.
But as I replayed the fight in my head, something stood out—a problem I hadn’t noticed in the heat of battle.
The real issue with fighting the soul of a Phantom wasn’t just its strength. It was what happened after its body dispersed. Once it broke apart into mist, it became harder to damage, to pin down. I couldn’t finish it off properly unless I stopped it from escaping or reforming.
That weakness stuck with me. But I already had an idea.
I remembered how Azalea fought. Specifically, the way she used her glowing pollen. She’d scattered it through the air, and when the Phantom moved, the pollen exploded around it. It was clever—fast, efficient, and hard to avoid.
I didn’t need pollen, though.
I had something better—Essence.
And I already had the base of the technique I needed: [Space Lock].
That skill could seal a limited space around a target. If I expanded on it—if I modified it into something more destructive—I could trap the Phantom in a sealed zone, then bombard it with pure Essence from all directions.
No mist would escape. No reforming. Just destruction, total and complete.
It would be brutal. Final.
A perfect way to end things.
And I was going to make it real.
I opened my eyes slowly, sitting cross-legged on the wooden rooftop. My body was still recovering, but my mind was sharp. The fight with the Phantom had revealed a critical flaw. If I wanted to crush these soul fragments properly, I needed something new.
I took a deep breath and whispered, "[Psynapse Fracture]."
A cold sensation rippled through my skull as my mind split into two distinct layers—each one focused on a different aspect of control. One for space. One for Essence.
"Let’s begin."
I raised my palm and gathered Essence into it—steady, calm, focused. Then, I projected it forward.
"[Space Lock]."
In front of me, a cube-shaped sealed zone formed—barely the size of a large box. Natural green Essence shimmered around its edges, forming a gentle glow. The space inside was completely isolated from the outside world.
Inside that locked cube, I conjured the first prototype of the flower.
I shaped the Essence delicately, focusing on stability and compression. Five petals—each curved like blades—formed around a pulsing center. It hovered in the air like a flower made of liquid light. It was beautiful and terrifying.
Then I triggered the detonation.
The petals folded inward, and with a flash of green light, the entire flower exploded.
BOOM.
The shockwave rattled the sealed cube but stayed contained. It was exactly what I needed—an internal bombardment inside a fixed zone.
I smiled.
"One flower isn’t enough."
I reset the space and created three flowers this time, placing them evenly across the box’s corners. Then detonated.
The explosion was far more effective. Mist, if there had been any, would’ve been vaporized before it could reform.
But I wasn’t done.
I extended the space lock, doubling the volume.
Then again.
And again.
Each time, I added more flowers, spacing them carefully. By the time the sealed space reached the size of a small room, I realized I needed dozens to fully saturate the space with damage.
I exhaled and expanded it further—pushing the boundary until it covered nearly half the size of my Absolute Domain. The scale was intense, but I had to test it.
I observed the massive sealed cube.
It would take almost a thousand Essence flowers to properly cover this entire space with overlapping shockwaves. If even a single point was left untouched, the Phantom’s mist could escape or regroup.
I needed complete destruction.
I focused my mind again. My Psynapse split and restructured, enabling faster construction patterns.
And I decided to create a hundred flowers per heartbeat.
The first pulse hit— ba-dump —and a hundred violet-green flowers bloomed inside the locked space like a field of light.
I detonated them immediately.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The locked space shook violently, a brilliant storm of Essence crashing within.
I didn’t stop.
Next heartbeat— ba-dump —another hundred formed.
BOOM!
The sound was deafening even inside the sealed domain, though none of it escaped.
I smiled grimly.
This was it. My answer.
A sealed space of compressed Essence flowers, all created and detonated rapidly. No time to reform. No time to breathe. The mist wouldn’t stand a chance.
I repeated the process, heartbeat after heartbeat.
100 per beat. Explode. Repeat.
Each wave made me faster. More precise. The timing between creation and detonation shrank until it felt like one smooth motion.
I didn’t know how long I kept at it—maybe an entire hour—but when I finally stopped, my body was drenched in sweat, and my Psynapse buzzed with strain.
But I had it.
The framework. The logic. The structure.
A skill built for one purpose—annihilation inside a cage of space.
I stood up, and stretched my shoulders as I looked at the scorched space cube floating in the air.
I heard the chime in my mind, clear and satisfying.
[Skill Gained]
[Garden of Death – Level 1]
A grin spread across my face.
"Even the system approves, huh?"
I checked my Essence reserves—fully restored. The Essence Engine had done its job well.
Stretching my back, I let my wings unfurl and gave them a powerful flap. I shot toward the temple in a streak of light, landing smoothly just outside its entrance.
I stepped inside.
Azalea was there, floating silently beside Dahlia’s still body. The light around her shimmered, and her expression was... different. Calm, but with a trace of sadness in her eyes.
When she noticed me, she smiled gently.
"That’s a very dangerous skill, Billion," she said. "Back when I was a Master Rank, I don’t think I could even produce half the destructive power you just showed."
I walked closer, the silence of the temple wrapping around us.
"I work hard," I said, simply.
Azalea chuckled lightly and nodded.
"Yes, I can see that. It’s written all over your body." Her eyes scanned me—not with judgment, but with something more like admiration. "Your Essence control, the speed of your constructions, the precision... it’s all beyond your level."
I didn’t answer immediately. My eyes drifted to Dahlia’s still form, then back to Azalea.
"So, the mountain range," I said quietly. "When do we leave?"
She tilted her head, studying me.
"Why the rush?"
I met her gaze without hesitation.
"Because I want the Holts out of this world—and out of mine—as soon as possible. Especially before the Ferans arrive."
Her expression shifted. A quiet understanding passed between us, and she gave a slow nod.
"In that case," she said, her tone more serious now, "before we head there, you need to know exactly what kind of danger we’ll be walking into."
I gave her a firm nod in return.
"I’m ready."