Chapter 4

Amidst the lively park, the laughter of children filled the air as the gentle wind played with the lush green grass. The innocence of the scene starkly contrasted with the underlying tension between two men seated on one of the park benches. Campeis, his eyes filled with anticipation, leaned slightly toward Brylo and whispered in a trembling voice:

"How can we contain him?"

Brylo, maintaining his usual icy composure, leaned back slightly, watching the children running in front of him before replying in a low voice:

"It won’t be easy... but we can try."

Campeis stared intently at Brylo’s expressionless face, as if trying to pierce through his calm demeanor.

"What are the chances of us successfully containing Sbyam?"

A moment of silence fell between them. The sound of laughter seemed distant, as if the entire world had been muted behind a wall of suspense. Brylo, without taking his eyes off the children, finally spoke:

"One percent."

Campeis’s eyes widened in visible shock. He leaned back slightly on the bench, repeating anxiously:

"One percent?! Are you joking?"

Brylo added in a calm tone, his words sharp like an arrow:

"That’s if we confront him in combat. But the chances increase to 50% if we target him... emotionally."

Campeis, struggling to grasp what he just heard, leaned closer to Brylo, asking in astonishment:

"Emotionally? What do you mean?"

Brylo intertwined his fingers, finally shifting his gaze from the children to Campeis’s face, his tone carrying a weighty warning:

"We need to exploit his past. There’s something that could weaken him. But if he decides to use that very thing..." He paused, letting the silence hang heavily before continuing, "We’ll lose everything."

Campeis’s astonishment deepened. He sat up straight, his rising anxiety clear in his voice as he asked:

"What is this thing?"

Brylo hesitated for a moment, his tone sharpening like a blade as he answered:

"If he activates the World of his technique."

Campeis froze in place, his tension and fear clearly visible. His voice quivered with unease as he spoke:

"Then what should we do?! We can’t take that risk!"

Brylo sighed, lowering his voice as if afraid someone might overhear them. His words came out sharp and deliberate:

"We need to face him in a place full of people. Somewhere he wouldn’t dare activate his technique without destroying countless lives... That’s why Ronda is our best option."

Campeis stared at Brylo with anxious eyes, while Brylo returned the look with a chilling calm. Silence enveloped them once more, but this time, the silence felt like a declaration of a war that would change everything.

—

The present….

Campeis looked up, only to see Sbyam floating in mid-air, the ice around his feet completely melted. His back was turned to them, yet everyone in the station, even the civilians, stared at him in terror.

Sbyam slightly turned his head toward them, his voice low but charged with undeniable authority:

“Oi.”

Everything stopped. The sounds, the movements, even the air seemed frozen. His piercing gaze locked onto Campeis, who felt an unfamiliar fear creeping into his chest.

Sbyam spoke in a calm but menacing tone:

“Do you all really think you can defeat me?

Campeis’ heart raced, but words failed him, stuck in his throat. Silence blanketed the scene, and it was Sbyam’s chilling glare that delivered the final blow.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly, as if the air itself responded to the intensity of the moment. From the sky, Sbyam descended with a fluid motion—like a deadly shadow fading and reappearing in mere seconds. His expression remained calm, but there was something unsettling in his eyes—a dark glow that betrayed a hidden madness. Standing firmly, his body remained motionless except for the slight sway caused by the gentle breeze. His gaze pierced through his opponents, accompanied by a mocking smirk, as he broke the silence with a deep, thunderous voice:

"Come… face me."

Campeis and Darwin stared at him, tension etched into their faces, their fear barely concealed. Sbyam continued, his tone dripping with cutting sarcasm, as if toying with their resolve:

"Aren’t you the ones who thought you could win? So… what’s the problem? Come to me, or I’ll come to you."

Before his words settled, Campeis and Darwin lunged at him with lightning speed. Electric sparks danced around them, charging the air with violent energy. Their fists aimed directly at Sbyam’s face—or so they thought.

In an instant, Sbyam vanished, as if the earth had swallowed him whole. Their punches struck nothing but empty air. A moment later, he reappeared just steps away, his mocking smirk intact, radiating unshakable defiance. His movements were ghost-like, evading their attacks with unreal precision. He leaned backward with effortless grace, dodging their blows as if they were nothing more than passing breezes.

Then, with lightning reflexes, he extended his hand, grabbing Darwin’s leg as if it were a mere toy. Sbyam laughed hysterically, lifting him with a single hand before hurling him with terrifying force toward a wall. Darwin crashed into it with immense impact but astonishingly regained his balance, standing on the cracked wall like a warrior prepared for the next strike.

Sbyam, however, gave no time for recovery. In a swift move, he lunged at Campeis, seizing his arm with a bone-crushing grip. His eyes burned with manic intensity. Before Campeis could react, Sbyam leaned closer, whispering mockingly:

"One… two…"

In a blur of motion, his hand sliced through Campeis’s arm as if wielding an invisible blade. Blood erupted in a crimson fountain, painting the scene in vivid red. Campeis staggered back, staring in disbelief at the stump where his hand had been moments ago. His face froze in a mask of horror, as if his body refused to accept the brutal reality.

Sbyam approached him slowly, his terrifying smile widening with each step. Without hesitation, he grabbed Campeis’s head and smashed it against the wall with inhuman strength. The impact echoed like an explosion, shattering the wall into rubble. Amid the destruction, Sbyam stood tall, his blazing eyes surveying the scene with detached madness.

"You were simply too late to understand the game," he muttered, his voice devoid of empathy.

In a flash, Sbyam appeared in front of Darwin, as though emerging from the shadows. His fist connected with Darwin’s face in a devastating blow, sending him hurtling across the ground like a broken doll. The wall behind him cracked and crumbled under the force of the impact. Blood spilled from Darwin’s mouth, soaking the floor as his battered body lay motionless.

But Sbyam wasn’t finished. He vanished once more, reappearing before Darwin, crouching like a predator studying its prey. His smile turned grotesque, and his whisper carried the weight of death itself:

"We’ve only just begun."

Dark sparks crackled ominously from Sbyam’s palm, slithering like snakes as they wrapped around Darwin’s body. The sparks coiled tighter with every passing second, forming a deadly cage. Darwin’s face twisted in terror, sweat pouring from his brow. He struggled to move, but the black energy held him in place, squeezing relentlessly.

Campeis, snapping out of his shock, summoned the last of his strength and charged toward Sbyam, his voice a desperate cry:

"What can’t you do, Sbyam Brius?!"

Sbyam didn’t even glance at him. His focus remained entirely on Darwin, now encased in the deadly sparks. The pressure intensified, and the wall behind Darwin crumbled under its weight before finally collapsing entirely.

In a horrifying instant, Darwin’s body exploded into fragments. Blood and remains splattered the walls and ground, leaving Campeis frozen in his tracks. His eyes widened with disbelief, his voice a faint whisper:

"Darwin...?"

Sbyam turned slowly, his face cold and impassive, yet his eyes burned with a chilling glow. Fixing his gaze on Campeis, he declared in a voice like a death sentence:

"Next…"

—

Inside the elevator, Suero and Laura stood in tense silence as it descended toward Station B4. The indicator lights flickered, the numbers decreasing slowly, each passing second dragging on as though the very air had thickened with anticipation. When the doors finally slid open, a dim, shadowy corridor greeted them—a western passage leading into the unknown.

Without a moment’s hesitation, they bolted toward the railway. Up ahead, not far from the tracks, a woman sat hunched over herself. Her pale, waxen face and the heavy slump of her posture made her look as though she were crushed under a weight no mortal should bear.

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Suero moved quickly, kneeling beside her, his face a mixture of concern and urgency. His voice, gentle yet strained, broke the silence, though it betrayed the worry rising within him.

"Excuse me... Are you alright?"

The woman remained still, not reacting in the slightest, as if she hadn’t heard him. Her unresponsiveness sent an unsettling chill through the air. Glancing at Laura, who looked equally bewildered, Suero turned back to the woman and tried again, this time with more insistence.

"Hey... Can you hear me?"

Without warning, the woman slowly lifted her head. Her voice was cold, like frost on the edges of winter, filled with an eerie ambiguity that sent a shiver down Suero’s spine.

"They've all changed... I came to board the train with them, but... they said it was full."

Suero felt a deep unease, her words nonsensical, as if they belonged to some twisted world beyond his understanding. Then, everything around him shifted. The woman’s skin began to darken, morphing into a deep, sickly purple, and black veins erupted from beneath her flesh, like fractured glass.

Instinctively, Suero took a step back, eyes wide with disbelief. The woman gagged violently, the grotesque sound echoing through the narrow corridor. Laura, standing several meters away, shouted in alarm,

"Suero! She’s transforming! She’s becoming one of them!"

The woman’s body contorted in unimaginable ways, her limbs twisting grotesquely. Her skin split, revealing blackened veins that pulsed beneath the surface, and her eyes turned pitch black, hollow voids of darkness. Her screams echoed through the air as her form shifted, half human, half monstrous beast. A pool of crimson blood pooled beneath her as she collapsed to the floor in a twisted heap.

Suero stood frozen, staring at the horrifying scene, his voice barely a whisper, trembling with disbelief.

"What... is this?"

Laura cautiously stepped forward, her fists clenched tightly, a look of disgust on her face as she spat in disdain.

"These... are the true demons! The Rizsius Organization is nothing but a cabal of cursed sorcerers!"

But Suero wasn’t listening. His gaze remained fixed on the grotesque body, his face contorted in a fierce inner turmoil. Almost imperceptibly, he whispered,

"The train…"

Laura, confused, turned to him.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Suddenly, Suero’s eyes snapped upward, realization dawning in them like a bolt of lightning. His heart pounded with terror and urgency. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pointed toward the railway and shouted,

"The train... It's heading for Master Sbyam!"

Laura’s confusion deepened, but Suero didn’t wait for her to catch up. In an instant, he leaped onto the railway tracks, his feet pounding against the cold iron rails, his inner voice a frantic scream.

"I must reach him...!"

—

In the eastern section of the station, Campeis sprinted forward, his heart pounding violently in his chest, constantly glancing over his shoulder. Behind him, Sbyam followed at a disturbingly calm pace, each step deliberate, his cold eyes locked onto Campeis with a predator’s detachment, as though time itself bent to his will. Suddenly, desperation broke from Campeis’ lips.

"Pico! If you don’t help me now, I’ll kill you myself!"

Across the chaos, Pico stood motionless, his expression cold and indifferent. He raised his hand lazily, as if the situation were beneath him.

"Okay....okay."

From his fingertip, a spark ignited, briefly flickering before shooting toward Sbyam. It struck him in an instant, an explosion of force detonating next to his head. But Sbyam didn’t flinch. He stopped, his gaze turning slowly toward Pico, his face blank, his indifference as chilling as the coldest winter.

Then, the train roared into view, its presence felt like a rumbling beast from the depths of hell. The screeching of its wheels echoed, shattering the tense silence that hung between them. Sbyam raised an eyebrow, a rare flicker of surprise passing across his face. Campeis and Pico exchanged tense glances, but before either could speak, Campeis grinned wickedly, his voice rising in excitement.

"Finally, it’s here!"

The crowd in the station surged forward, a frantic, chaotic mob pushing and shoving as disbelief spread among them. One man shouted desperately,

"Move! I’m getting on first!"

But as he reached the door, his steps faltered. His eyes widened in horror as the door opened slowly, revealing not passengers, but massive, grotesque creatures spilling out like a nightmare made flesh. One of the beasts pounced on the man, tearing off his head with a swift, brutal bite. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, a rag doll torn apart by merciless jaws.

The station erupted in screams, the air thick with terror as the creatures swarmed out, tearing through bodies and flooding the floor with blood.

Amidst the monsters, Solio stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. He paused, taking in the scene with a slow, deliberate gaze. Inhaling deeply, he savored the thick, rancid air of fear, then exhaled with a wide grin.

"Oh, how I’ve missed this refreshing atmosphere!"

Campeis spotted him and gestured eagerly.

"Finally, you’re here!"

But Solio didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes were locked on Sbyam, his voice filled with unmistakable excitement.

"At last, I have my chance to face him!"

Charging toward Sbyam, Solio’s arm morphed into a blade as black as the void itself. He leapt into the air, aiming to decapitate his target with one swift strike. But in the blink of an eye, Sbyam raised his hand with blinding speed, catching the blade mid-swing. Black sparks erupted around his fingers, a macabre dance of shadows.

Solio’s grin only widened, as if he relished the challenge. But Sbyam’s grip tightened, and the blade shattered into shards that scattered in the air like shards of broken glass. Without hesitation, Sbyam raised his other hand and unleashed a black spark, shooting it toward Solio like a lightning-fast arrow. Solio recoiled in midair, retreating with all his might. The spark struck the ceiling behind him, erupting in a deafening explosion, debris raining down on the panicked crowd below.

Solio landed beside Campeis, his severed arm already regenerating rapidly. Campeis, visibly irritated, scowled at him.

"What took you so long?!"

Solio chuckled lightly, glancing around before turning back to Campeis.

"I had to make sure I brought plenty of monsters."

Then, suddenly, his expression shifted. A sharp realization flashed across his face.

"By the way, where’s Darwin?"

Campeis replied, his gaze never leaving Sbyam amidst the chaos.

"He’s dead."

Solio paused, then shrugged indifferently.

"Really?!"

As the cries of humans mixed with the shrieks of the monsters, Sbyam remained motionless, his eyes locked on the blood-soaked ground below. His face was a study in calm indifference, yet every scream, every drop of blood seemed to invigorate him, as if he reveled in the pain that permeated the air.

Campeis smirked to himself, watching the stillness envelop Sbyam. His thoughts dripped with mockery.

"What will you do now, Sbyam Brius? You believe activating your world will kill these humans. So, you won’t do it, will you? You’d rather let them die at the hands of monsters than at your own, right?"

Amid the carnage, Sbyam stood like a statue in the eye of the storm. The cries and the blood splattering in all directions painted his dark attire in tragic streaks of crimson. His expression was frozen, a portrait of inner conflict and turmoil.

Campeis’s grin grew wider, his voice quiet but biting.

"Think... think... you have no options, do you? Isn’t it better for you to quietly enter the prison World?"

His words sliced through the air, each one heavy with the weight of their implications. Meanwhile, Solio, seemingly relishing the absurdity of it all, took a step forward, his eyes gleaming with dark excitement. His voice dripped with sarcastic certainty.

"Sbyam... you’re different from Suero Rashid. You believe sacrificing a few lives to save those outside is the priority... but you can’t, can you? You won’t do it because you know it will turn you into something you can’t forgive yourself for!"

Sbyam drew a slow, deep breath, his gaze fixed on the ground, as though searching for answers within the depths of his own mind. Around him, the monsters feasted on humans, their guttural growls and blood-curdling screams blending into a horrifying symphony. Blood splattered across the station, painting the scene in shades of despair.

The world suddenly grew silent, as if time itself had ceased to flow. Even the desperate breaths that once echoed in the station of death came to an abrupt halt. Silence, heavy as an iron barrier, enveloped everything. At the heart of the chaos stood Sbyam Brius, his body stained with the blood of both humans and monsters. His eyes began to glow faintly, emitting a deep black radiance that seemed to embody the void itself.

His voice sliced through the stillness, sharp as lightning:

“The Kurmo World.”

In that instant, an unusual white barrier erupted around him, expanding with breathtaking speed, stretching infinitely as though consuming the very horizon. The station, once steeped in chaos, transformed into an absolute void—a blank canvas of pristine white awaiting a new story to be drawn. Before anyone could comprehend the shift, the barrier vanished just as abruptly, returning everything to its original state.

Yet something was amiss. Everyone—humans, monsters, even Solio—was frozen in place, as if turned to stone. Time moved only for the faint droplet of saliva slipping slowly from Solio’s lips, defying the frozen world.

Then, Sbyam began to move. No, he didn’t just move—he surged. Like a bolt of lightning, faster than light, faster than comprehension. His body weaved through the monsters like a blade cutting through air. With every step, a head fell. The heads of monsters flew into the void, and their blood erupted in fountains of crimson.

The narrator’s voice echoed, calm yet foreboding:

“This was Sbyam Brius’s desperate attempt to activate the Kurmo World for a mere 0.1 seconds. He believed that this fleeting moment would be enough to save the humans from falling into his world. But the Kurmo World is unforgiving. The moment they entered, their fragile bodies crumbled under the weight of overwhelming information. Their minds absorbed data equivalent to half a year in an instant... and collapsed, paralyzed.”

As the narrator spoke, Sbyam’s movements were a blur of speed and fury. His glowing black eyes burned with an intensity that matched his relentless assault. Every motion was precise, every strike decisive, as if he were a machine of destruction born from pure rage and focus.

The narrator continued:

“The surviving humans returned to their communities two months after the incident. But what transpired here was only the beginning. Solio had transformed approximately 1,000 humans into monsters, sowing chaos and terror. Sbyam Brius faced a critical choice: the monsters, the immediate threat, had to be eradicated first. Only then could he confront the Rizsius sorcerers. He knew this, and so did they. They knew they were no match for him.”

The scene shifted rapidly. Sbyam now stood amidst a sea of corpses. The monsters that once dominated the station were reduced to lifeless piles. The air was dense and oppressive, filled only with the ragged sound of Sbyam’s labored breathing. Beads of sweat mingled with the blood on his face, a testament to the battle’s toll.

The narrator’s voice swelled with pride:

“In a mere 209 seconds, Sbyam Brius annihilated 1,000 transformed humans—a feat unparalleled in history. This moment solidified Sbyam Brius… as the strongest sorcerer the world had ever known.”

Sbyam stood in the midst of the carnage, his head held high, his glowing eyes dimming back to their natural state. Yet exhaustion clung to him like a shadow. His body threatened to collapse, but an indomitable strength kept him upright. He surveyed the remnants of the station—the scattered corpses, the mangled monsters—as though all that had transpired was but the prologue to a greater saga yet to unfold.

Sbyam Brius panted heavily, his chest heaving as if carrying the weight of the universe. The air around him was saturated with the stench of blood and sweat, and the only sound breaking the oppressive silence was his ragged breathing. Suddenly, he froze. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened as a strange crystalline orb appeared before him, shimmering with an enigmatic glow.

He whispered, barely audible, his voice laced with shock and confusion:

“What… is this?”

Before he could finish his question, a familiar, calm voice sliced through the stillness from behind:

“Yoo… Master Sbyam!”

He turned swiftly, his eyes trembling, only to find himself face-to-face with Spailo. Spailo’s smile was warm, but beneath that warmth lurked an unmistakable chill.

“Are you alright, Master?” Spailo asked, his tone carrying a faint hint of playful mockery.

Sbyam tried to muster a smile, but his surprise was evident in his eyes. Before he could respond, the crystalline orb suddenly leaped into the air and split in two. One half shot toward him, and in an instant, it began to engulf his body from the feet up, like an inescapable trap.

Lowering his gaze to his legs, now submerged in the orb, his voice rose with a mix of anger and disbelief:

“Spailo… what are you doing?”

Spailo responded with a faint smile, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather:

“What am I doing? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Why are you trying to contain me?!” Sbyam roared, his fury rising as the orb continued to consume his legs.

Raising his eyebrows, Spailo replied with a mocking tone that stoked the flames of his master’s anger even more:

“Why? What a silly question. Simply because… you’re an obstacle. Your very existence stands in the way of my plans.”

Sbyam’s rage burned brighter in his eyes as he struggled to maintain his composure:

“What’s your goal, you fool? Why are you doing this?”

Spailo chuckled, his laughter dripping with malice, as though relishing the moment:

“Don’t you want to be free, Master?”

Sbyam fell silent for a moment, his eyes blazing with defiance. But Spailo didn’t wait for an answer. He continued, his tone thick with mockery:

“Oh, right! I almost forgot. You can’t kill one of your students, can you? Those ridiculous beliefs of yours—thinking that mercy is the real strength. How naive, Master!”

The orb had now consumed half of Sbyam’s body, yet he remained steadfast. Fixing Spailo with a piercing gaze, he spoke with a calm yet profound intensity:

“Spailo… you’re the dumbest student I’ve ever trained.”

Spailo’s laughter faltered for a brief moment before he quickly recovered, smirking as he retorted:

“Really?”

But Sbyam pressed on, his voice resolute and full of conviction:

“Let me tell you something… your brother, Suero, will kill you one day.”

Spailo fell silent, but the smile never left his face. He replied with a defiant tone:

“I’d like to see him try… but he won’t. That fool isn’t on my level.”

For the first time in the scene, Sbyam allowed himself a faint smile, as if holding onto an unshakable certainty:

“Suero… will become the strongest sorcerer the world has ever known. Stronger than you… and even stronger than me.”

For a fleeting moment, the orb’s movement paused, as if granting master and student a final gaze, one laden with a complex mix of emotions: pain, anger, pride, and sorrow.

The orb resumed its consumption, enveloping Sbyam entirely until his body was fully encased. Only his eyes remained visible for a moment longer, their glow fading gradually into oblivion.

Spailo stood motionless, watching in silence as his master vanished. His smile persisted, but now it carried a thousand unspoken meanings, each more enigmatic than the last.

—

Amidst the darkness shrouding the railway tracks, Suero ran with all his might, his breaths growing heavier with each step. Inside him echoed heavy words, like a prayer or a vow to himself:

"Master Sbyam… I’m coming! Wait for me! I’ll be useful… I’ll offer my help!"

But his inner voice was abruptly interrupted by a faint, fear-laden shout:

“Stop!”

Suero halted instantly and turned around to find Laura behind him, standing like a statue. Her eyes were fixated on the Mehrebot Watch in her hand, her face pale, and her expression filled with terror.

“What’s wrong?” Suero asked, his voice tinged with irritation as he tried to grasp the situation. “We don’t have time! We need to hurry!”

Laura raised her gaze to him, her eyes a mixture of shock and dread. She spoke in a trembling voice:

“It’s happened… it’s done.”

Suero froze in place, staring at her as if trying to process her words. He didn’t understand—or perhaps didn’t want to.

“What do you mean?!” he shouted, his anger rising as his patience waned. “What are you talking about? We need to go now!”

Laura took a step forward, her voice steadier but drenched in sorrow:

“Sbyam Brius… has been contained.”

The words hit Suero like a bullet piercing his heart. He staggered backward unconsciously, his eyes widening as he whispered in disbelief:

“What…?”

Time seemed to stop around him; everything turned still. Her words echoed relentlessly in his mind, refusing to fade. He didn’t even notice the trembling of his hands, now clenched tightly into fists.

End of Chapter.