Trouble arrived before Zerathul did.
I noticed it in the way the noise around us changed. The laughter from the nearby bars grew uneven. The roars from the arena dulled, as if attention had shifted. Footsteps began cutting through the terrain with purpose, not wandering or drunk, but measured and deliberate.
Primus noticed it at the same time. His posture adjusted, weight settling into his stance without a word.
Whatever Zerathul had set in motion, it was already close.
I didn’t move.
I remained seated near the fire, one leg crossed over the other, a heavy cup resting loosely in my hand. The drink was bitter, sharp, and hot enough to burn most throats. I barely tasted it. Lana sat opposite me, her posture stiff, her eyes flicking past my shoulder again and again as if she could already sense what was coming.
The first demon didn’t bother with words.
He came in fast, grandmaster-level, blade already swinging, fire trailing behind his movement in a wide arc meant to force reaction.
Primus met him head-on.
Flames detonated outward as Primus surged forward instead of back, his body wreathed in roaring fire. His sword struck once, twice, three times in a single fluid sequence, each movement accelerating into the next. The demon didn’t even finish registering pain before his body was cut apart and thrown back into the darkness.
More followed immediately.
Not a mob. A formation.
Grandmasters, all of them, moving with coordination. They didn’t rush blindly. They tested angles, flanked, tried to box Primus in while others aimed past him.
None of them acknowledged me.
Primus became motion.
He didn’t hold ground. He flowed through it. Fire blasted from his limbs with every step, propulsion and weapon both, sending him skimming across fractured stone, rebounding off pillars of obsidian, cutting through attacks before they could converge. Flames snapped outward with each strike, chaining between bodies, disrupting timing, burning through defenses.
A demon tried to grapple him from behind.
Primus twisted mid-motion, fire erupting from his back in a concussive blast that shattered ribs and sent the attacker flying. He didn’t even look to see where the body landed.
Another came in low, spear aimed for his legs. Primus vaulted over it, inverted mid-air, blade carving downward as gravity caught up. The spear and its wielder split cleanly as fire followed the cut a heartbeat later.
I took another drink.
Lana’s breathing had quickened. She watched the fight unfold with wide eyes, hands clenched in her lap.
"They’re not stopping," she whispered.
"No," I replied calmly. "He put a bounty on my name."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"Nothing subtle," I said. "Enough to make every ambitious grandmaster within range think tonight is worth dying for."
As if on cue, another wave arrived.
Primus met them without hesitation. His movements were no longer just precise. They were brutal. Firestorms erupted around him as he advanced, heat hammering into the ground with each step, collapsing terrain, forcing attackers into predictable paths that ended in his blade.
But numbers mattered.
Two new presences entered the field, heavier, denser, their Essence folding inward with practiced control.
Transcendents.
That was when I finally moved.
I didn’t stand.
I simply raised my hand.
Essence answered.
The world froze.
Fire hung in the air, mid-eruption. Lightning halted in jagged arcs, suspended inches from flesh. Demons stopped where they were, weapons half-swung, expressions locked between rage and realization.
Even Primus stilled, fire crawling across his body like a living thing suddenly restrained.
Lana gasped. Essence began seeping from her skin.
It leaked out of her like smoke, drawn toward me by my will. Her eyes widened as she felt it, her breath hitching as something deep inside her responded whether she wanted it to or not.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
I didn’t answer.
I snapped my fingers.
Every demon dropped.
Unconscious bodies hit the ground in unison, the sound echoing across the frozen battlefield like a single, heavy breath being released.
Then I pointed.
Far away, beyond the firelight, a scream tore through the wilderness.
Something came flying through the darkness, tearing through stone and buildings alike before crashing into the ground near my feet hard enough to crater it.
Zerathul.
He tried to rise.
He didn’t get the chance.
Primus was already moving.
He crossed the distance without flourish, fire trailing behind him and drove his hand straight through Zerathul’s chest. The demon convulsed once as Primus closed his fist, crushing the heart within.
Zerathul went still.
Lana screamed.
She surged forward, instinct overpowering thought, but her body locked mid-motion, frozen in place as her own Essence betrayed her. Panic flooded her eyes as she realized she couldn’t move. Couldn’t even scream properly anymore.
I leaned forward slightly.
The Abyss Core stirred within my Dawn Core, its pull aligning with my will. I reached not for her body, but for what lay beneath it.
Her laws.
For the first time I was going to try to snatch someone’s comprehension directly instead of fragments.
Resistance slammed into me immediately. Violent. Desperate. Lana’s body arched as blood streamed from the corners of her eyes, her scream tearing free at last, raw and horrifying.
Primus didn’t stop me. He simply watched.
I connected deeper, directly involving my soul. I had this idea after using the abyss core on the battlefield and it finally clicked into place after I heard about the rune master stuff. I reached into my soul, reinforcing the pull with my own Essence, Absolute threading through the Abyss Core as it began to tear.
Runes surfaced from her skin.
Translucent. Fiery. Twisting free from her like living things dragged into the open. They hovered around her, spinning wildly, burning brighter as her level plummeted in sharp, uneven drops.
Her scream broke into sobbing gasps.
I increased the pressure.
More runes tore free.
Her Essence collapsed inward, then fractured, then stabilized at a lower equilibrium. When it finally stopped, when the pull no longer met resistance worth acknowledging, she sagged, barely conscious.
Her level stopped at 242. Dropped from a transcendent to a grandmaster.
The runes drifted toward me and vanished into the Abyss Core, absorbed without ceremony.
I released my hold.
The world resumed.
Fire crashed into stone. Bodies lay scattered across the battlefield. Primus stepped back, wiping blood from his arm, his expression unreadable.
Lana collapsed to the ground, shaking, empty.
I stood at last.
"It’s done," I said.
Primus nodded and picked up Lana.