Within a void of complete nothingness that dwells only darkness—so thick it could almost be felt—an individual hovered aimlessly in its midst.
This person was the only figure physically seen in this space, and upon closer inspection, they seemed to be unconscious.
The momentary movement of his chest clearly showed that he was alive—or maybe at the brink of life.
Suddenly, he woke up, his breathing harsh and unsettling, with pure fear buried in his face.
He hurriedly looked around in expectation of danger, but upon seeing no imposed threat, he quickly relaxed.
But then, his blood pressure spiked again.
"Where the hell am I again?!" Victor shouted.
"Shit!"
He tried to move but could only sluggishly squabble from where he was.
"Damn it! I can't move!!"
He kept trying reluctantly, yet with all his efforts, there was no progress. So he stopped and analyzed the situation with as much calmness of mind as he could muster.
'Could this be the doing of those two?' he thought. 'No... if it was, I should be dead right now... or could I be dead and stuck in some limbo waiting to be transmigrated once again? But can one be that treasured by fate to live three times?'
Well, the analysis seemed to be pointless, as no conclusion was reached.
"Stop your whining, you blockhead. From how stupid you're behaving, it makes me wonder how you became a commander to lead a battalion."
"Not like you succeeded, as you only led them to their death. Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
"Pitiful!!"
Before him, a thin layer of circular light shimmered amidst the darkness. They were almost nonexistent—barely enough to be referred to as light itself.
Just as it appeared, it vanished, but reappeared once again after a few seconds. This action repeated slowly until, out of nowhere, more of these thin layers of sparkles appeared.
It was like they were multiplying—and they didn't stop until hundreds had appeared, giving the space a diminutive state of brightness.
Everything ceased out of the blue—the blinking and the randomly multiplying sparkles of white light. Then, it all started to move together, gathering to form something.
As it aligned perfectly, a clear image began to form: it was the image of a wolf's head.
It opened its mouth to speak...
"You're such a disgrace. You're unable to handle these weak humans?"
Victor was perplexed at how this image of a wolf's head had randomly appeared, spewing insults at him.
What had he done to be treated this way?
Borack barked once more. "What have you done? Seriously?!! You were granted the three bloodlines of creatures that rival gods—and here you are, almost killed by humans not even considered a stepping stone. It's disgraceful!!!"
'Wait, isn't this that dog the system said I tamed? Wait—did it read my mind? And it can also speak...?'
This was new information he was getting: an animal speaking—and talking about gods.
"I guess I'll have to deal with this mess. AND WHO ARE YOU CALLING A DOG, YOU ANT?!!"
The light around its eyes brightened, and Victor felt himself losing air.
"Sh–eck!! I... can't... breathe..." were the words he struggled to compile as he tried to cling to life, practically turning purple due to the lack of oxygen.
But then, the forever-long suffocation finally came to an end as air flowed through his airways and he messily gasped for breath.
"You... bastard... trying to kill me?" Victor coughed out.
"Yes, I intended to—but the Dark God would object if I caused your demise," the wolf said with a glum expression.
"Don't worry, I will kill you soon. Just you wait. When he's done with you, I'll personally rip you apart—enjoying every bit of it." Borack smiled sadistically.
"I'll be waiting," Victor muttered.
If what he was thinking was accurate, this Dark God wanted him for something—and for the Shadow Wolf to not end him right there meant he was of value too.
Well, as long as he got stronger, he'd be ready for the Shadow Wolf.
"So where am I?" Victor asked.
He wasn't expecting an answer—but he actually got one.
Borack spoke. "This is the space that dwells in your consciousness. It's almost shared by three minds."
"What do you mean, three minds...?" Victor thought for a moment. "The bloodlines..."
"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to clean your mess up." That was the last thing he said before the lights disappeared.
'He left…'
.
.
.
Raymond's pupils contracted in fear, absolute pain rushing into his head. He slowly looked down at his right arm, which had been severed from the elbow with perfect, clean precision.
On the ground lay the chopped-off hand amidst a pool of his own blood. Blood gushed from the amputated stump, each droplet falling in an orderly fashion.
That was the arm he used to hold his hammer—but it was gone now.
The person had been so fast that it had only taken a white flash of speed to take part of him.
"Ahhh!! Fuck... it hurts!" he screamed through clenched teeth.
But still, he was reluctant to go out this way. The attack he had planned to vaporize whatever this person was had been a complete failure—however, it was better to go out kicking.
His left hand erupted into spiraling flames. Just as he was about to punch forward to release the strike, another white flash appeared—and his other hand was cut off.
"Ahh!!"
"Seriously, I still don't understand why you won't give it up," Borack chuckled in amusement.
"Ah! Look—a wounded animal trying to fight back, ha!"
"What... so... funny?!" Raymond, under intense pain, still tried to speak.
"You, of course—ha..." Borack replied.
"Okay, I'm bored now. Die, you ant."
There wasn't an ounce of mercy or hesitation in his eyes as he raised the katana high and cut down right between Raymond.
He didn't stop—nor was there resistance to how smoothly the blade moved through him—until the slice came to an end and, at the same time, two halves of Raymond fell in different directions.
"Wow, how comforting."
***