With movements that seemed more suited to a spectre than a human, John's figure rapidly flickered between cover as he fled from the centre of the town. Due to the many obstructions created by the metal wrecks, partially collapsed buildings and rare areas covered in black, void-like cracks, he was forced to skirt the edges of the street as he attempted to escape by the most efficient route.

If one were watching from above, at first it would have appeared that John was sprinting in a blind panic. However, even with the occasional stumble, jerky movement or the constant quaking of his body, it was soon apparent that not only was he clear-headed, but he was also extremely experienced traversing such terrain.

This was further emphasised as John twisted his way through the various wreck and debris. However, even as he was navigating a route and trying to process the limited information he had available, John's bright eyes remained vigilant as he continually surveyed his surroundings for threats with an icy expression.

Even though the roads had not appeared very threatening from the air and around the silver platform, fragments of weapons, bones and other remains were scattered amongst the dark recesses of the buildings and twisted metal. Not only that, but John had noticed a few bones or weapon fragments with smears of blood or clumps of rotting flesh, indicating that they were not as old as their surroundings.

"I swear if I survive today..." John's thoughts stopped, not knowing how to continue his half-arsed promise. Even though he had experienced similar situations during the many life and death encounters he had faced in the past, the chilling sensation coursing across his skin and painful pricking as the hairs across his body stood upright, greatly alarmed him. As such, he felt that any promise he made was not only pointless but illogically tempting fate.

"Fuck. I'm going to die here." Never, through twenty years of active service and staring death in the face countless times, had John experienced such an intense sense of dread. While he couldn't place where this instinctual, somewhat irrational fear came from, knowing that the Void Lords had only appeared in the last one thousand years or so, he felt as if their cries had resonated with the terrors buried in the depths of his heart. This impression was compounded with each successive roar he had experienced earlier, announcing the arrival of another Lord.

By the third, the masculine bellow that seemed to want to destroy reality and subdue the other two by its presence alone, John felt as if a large part of his psyche would shatter and his blood freeze. However, due to the great distance between them, including his newly freed essence and soul power, he was still able to move.

Remembering the unique roars of the Void Lords, John wanted to lash out at something. "What the fuck have they been suppressing? How can there be three Lords active at one point?"

At the time, John had been slightly stunned at how resilient his body seemed to be under the sudden pressure, even if there had been a couple of other creatures that didn't appear affected, but that wasn't the most surprising thing. He also discovered that a tiny part of him, yet something more than a stray rebellious thought, appeared to have awakened when it encountered the soul attack hidden in the soundwaves.

Instead of fear, if he focused on this strange sentiment bubbling deep in the depths of his mind, John felt a surge of annoyance and anger. Even though the idea of such a reaction baffled him, it somehow felt as if the arrival of the Void Lords had somehow provoked something within him.

"Could it be the curse playing up? But, if it is, does it mean this situation is hopeless?" While John had never felt anything like this before, it was somewhat similar to the curse his family suffered. It only seemed to affect the firstborn of every generation, appearing alongside the unexplained affinity for dark and ice essence and black hair and blue eyes.

The result was that John felt the faint urge to release his soul power and announce his existence to those that, he imagined, were hunting him. To fight them no matter the cost. A similar reaction to when he was about to be teleported from the courtroom. However, reason and the overwhelming sense of trepidation quashed this feeling almost instantly.

"Not now damn it." Talking to himself, or more accurately the perceived curse, John glanced over his shoulder. Even though he couldn't see or hear anything threatening, his body continued to shiver as if he cowering before an ancient, terrifying beast.

Not even the blistering heat from the two suns above, or the stifling, dusty air, could give his body any warmth or comfort. Instead, it felt as if he and the world he could sense were separated by a thin, transparent film. The heat and brightness of the environment almost seemed to disprove his emotions and senses.

"Get a grip. Focus. Those that fear death die the fastest."

John reprimanded himself as he tried to control his turbulent emotions. Initially, he felt as if the Grim Reaper was reaching out for him, its skeletal hand-looming closer with every beat of his heart. It was only as he fled, distancing himself from the platform and where he had appeared, that the feeling began to fade.

"No. It's not the platform. Its the area. The Void Lords are probably searching for me. When I first arrived, I wasn't concealing my soul energy and then when I remembered those bastards, I let it slip again."

John jaw clenched as he felt the urge to punch himself. Yet, he only used the anger to push his body even harder. "Damn it, why didn't I listen. Why did I have to try and make myself feel better by acting high and mighty and scaring those fuckwits."

While John wanted nothing more than to take a deep breath to calm himself, because he was gasping for breath as he ran, he couldn't. "Fuck it. I just need to keep it concealed and get out of the area. If they are really tracking the energy released from my soul, they should find it really hard to track me..."

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To the side, John spotted a crouched figure, seemingly throwing up as it clutched the wall. By the time he turned his head slightly to get a better look, he had already passed, and the figure was hidden behind the debris.

"Forget it. I just need to run. To get far, far away from here." He wasn't sure if this thought was instinctual or something that he had come to from thinking things through, but John didn't doubt its validity for a second. If he could say that every fibre of his being wasn't currently screaming at him to run, logic and reason wouldn't be far behind.

Especially since even with his Gem rank eight cultivation, extremely impressive in the modern world even amongst the elites, he was nothing more than a slightly stronger bug to the Void Lords, the high-level voidlings and void beasts that called this place home. It was widely believed that only the heroes and ancient gods in hiding could confront them with any confidence.

"Evade, escape, recover, get home." Just as John was finalising his high-level, if a slightly naive, plan, he spotted a cluster of black cracks hovering in the air a couple of meters ahead of him.

Without thinking, he dodged to the side and around the remains of what looked like a makeshift barricade. However, just as he cleared the heap of metal, sand and what appeared to be subsidised concrete, he was forced to nimbly step around what seemed to be a small, black-skinned goblin that was curled into a ball on the ground.

Due to how fast he was going, John wasn't able to get a good look at the creature but was almost sure he had caught a glimpse of foam coming out of its mouth as its eyes rolled in the back in its head.

While goblins and the other demi-humans were known for their weaker souls, they were only slightly inferior to the other 'purebred' races in terms of defence. This meant that their resistances shouldn't be too far below John's, even if they didn't have the intelligence to know how to utilise their souls offensively.

From what he had seen from the goblin's appearance, its soul appeared to have been crushed, and its life essence shattered. Something that should only have happened after suffering an overwhelming attack.

Even though the bright sun was beating down on him, John felt colder. If the damage was caused by the previous attacks of the Void Lords, he didn't know what to make of it. He had been much closer to the shrieks, one behind and to each side, which should have made him worse off. Yet, the thing with soul attacks is that they projected a lot of energy. If there had been any others, like someone taking advantage of the situation, he would have sensed it.

John frowned and felt anxious, but he didn't focus on the goblin for long. While he had managed to shrug most of the suppressive effects earlier, he couldn't completely ignore the state of his body. His lungs and muscles, especially those in his legs and core, felt as if they were on fire.

Yet, even with the incredible pain and his body feeling like it was going to fall apart at any moment, John didn't dare to slow down. Instead, as he continued to push his body past its limits.

Strands of golden energy, with tiny black and ice blue streaks, flowed out of the incorporeal sphere that mysteriously overlapped his heart before rushing towards his limbs and organs. His core, like most beings that were not identified as monsters, demons or beasts, appeared to be more similar to a ghostly second heart than a crystal.

At the same time, even though the environment seemed inductive to light and heat affinities, the ice and dark essence in his body greedily absorbed their matching elements from the surroundings. As such, his three leading affinities were recovering and purging energy at an unprecedented rate before circulating it around his body.

"No pain. No gain." While he could feel himself improving at an outstanding rate, something that even someone blessed with the resources of a heroic family could barely compare with, John only pushed himself harder. It wasn't for any future benefits, but survival. Even though the sense of dread had reduced a lot, it was still hanging heavily over him as his instincts made it seem as if he was going to die at any moment.

As John lept over another pile of rubble that had fallen into the road from a nearby building, the essence nourished his muscles and organs, trying to repair the damage being done and improving their structure at the same time. Even though he felt as if he was moments away from falling to the ground, John found that his reserves seemed bottomless.

While John's fitness was higher than the average mortal, the continually rising flow of essence supporting his body to nearly superhuman levels, four years of limited exercise and the cumbersome half crouching sprint still managed to quickly exhaust him. Yet, the further John ran, the smoother the essence flowed and the easier it became.

"The hell? What's wrong with this place? I thought after Godsfall, the essence of the universe was crippled?"

The feeling, almost as if he were stretching a long-forgotten limb as his core absorbed and purified the natural essence, was painful yet pleasant at the same time. Yet, John couldn't focus entirely on guiding the energy as his gaze continuously scanned the path ahead. At the same time, his ragged breathing and heavy footsteps seemed to echo off the surrounding buildings, crumbling barricades and wreckages.

Although John believed it was his mindset and heightened senses playing tricks, and that the other creatures were making far more noise as they fled, he slightly grimaced as the commotion sounded unnaturally deafening to his ears. Especially as the number of being fleeing was steadily reducing.

However, it wasn't just the generation of sound that was bothering him, but the fact he was making any noise at all. Because of this, John realised how much his skills and abilities had degraded during his incarceration.

Even if his cultivation had been sealed and his movements limited, John couldn't help but curse that he had let himself get into such a state.

A brief image of his team flashed past his mind's eye, causing a pang of sadness as he knew they had given him up, caused John to become momentarily distracted. "If they could see me now, would they die from laugher or pity me?" Maybe it was because of this lack of focus, but John seemingly didn't hear a small commotion ahead of him.

By the time he had, a dozen figures covered in sand-coloured, scale-like armour had charged out from a double doorway and stopped blocking his path. The humanoids carried an assortment of strange, leather bags. Out of the bottom edges of the bags, blue or red blood seemed to seep through and occasionally drip onto the dusty floor. In each of the groups left hands, excluding the leader who was carrying an ancient-looking rifle, were blades of various lengths.

As John attempted to stop, the hilt of the essence blade in his hand glowed as a semi-transparent edge erupted from the handle. At the same time, he was so focused on the group in front of him that he didn't realise that his body had stopped shaking. Not only that, but the sensation of dread that had been gnawing away had become almost insignificant as the dark and ice energy in his body wrapped the light essence as if wanting to protect it.