Chapter 277
The serpent beside her—it was also a part of her power; it was not unfair. Even if it was, she did not care; only those who survived were the strongest.
But—
‘Had I always been such a survivalist thinker?’ Sera pondered deeply. ‘Perhaps not before meeting this human.’
She had never believed that survival alone dictated strength. No—strength was about absolute domination, crushing one’s prey without hesitation or resistance.
She always believed that the strongest were those who dominated their prey one-sidedly without being forced or threatened.
But now…
She found herself questioning that certainty.
Her gaze drifted down—
To the broken human boy before her.
“It’s over now.” Her voice was quiet but a hint of something final was present in it.
‘In the end, this was what you amounted to.’
Her fingers twitched. A strange unease settled in her chest.
‘After I take your secrets, I will be stronger than ever before.’
Sera consoled herself internally, reminding herself that once this was over, she would reach higher levels.
She repeated the thought, but for some reason, it no longer brought her satisfaction.
___________
Oliver exhaled.
His fingers curled into the dirt beneath him.
He had no choice.
He had been hoping—desperately—that it wouldn’t come down to this.
But…
His gaze locked onto the beast before him—that being of venom and destruction.
He knew.
He could not take it anymore.
“There was no other choice…”
The whisper was barely audible.
Yet—
Sera jerked slightly.
Her previously calm heart lurched, pounding wildly against her ribs.
‘What?’
“What did you say!?”
Her breath hitched.
She stared at the bloodied boy, lying motionless, and yet…
She couldn’t blink.
She couldn’t look away.
Her body refused.
Her heart pounded—anticipating something from the boy who should be close to death.
The serpent beside her stirred, sensing its master’s turmoil.
Its six glowing, predatory eyes locked onto Oliver.
A hiss—low, ominous, reverberated across the battlefield.
Then—
The serpent lunged.
Ready to tear him apart.
A blur of obsidian scales, venom laced in its fangs, surging forward like a falling star
Sera realized belatedly that her emotions were unstable, affecting her bond. Before she could stop, the serpent had already closed in on the human.
Sera blinked—
Too late.
The serpent was already upon him.
___________
Oliver exhaled.
His fingers tightened; a spark of something unnatural and disturbing flashed.
Despite the howling winds—
Despite the hiss of the serpent—
Despite the shaking earth—
The world around him fell into silence.
For Oliver, time itself had fallen away, leaving only one thing behind—
A name.
It lingered on his lips, as if it had always been there, waiting to be spoken.
And in the void of his silence—
It called to him—
And he answered.
“[Neglegentis]”
RIIIIIP!—
The very air around him fractured
Like a mirror shattering, reality split open, resisting the very existence of the weapon that emerged.
From the rift—
A blade.
A pitch-black sword, pulsing with a ghostly white glow at its base.
It was not a weapon.
It was an anomaly.
The moment Oliver’s fingers wrapped around the hilt—
The battlefield died.
Click!
Click!
Click!
The Circuit of Abyss reacted like a slumbering beast awakening, as if recognizing its lost child.
Abyss energy flooded his veins, consuming everything within him.
Organs. Bones. Veins.
Rewritten. Reborn.
His body, broken moments ago, knitted itself together in a grotesque parody of healing.
Oliver’s eyes dimmed, empty yet piercing.
His weak aura vanished.
Crack.
He rose.
Or rather—his body lifted itself, as if pulled by unseen strings.
“Slow” was an illusion.
Nothing had changed—the serpent was still surging forward, its fangs coated with venom potent enough to dissolve enchanted steel.
Yet to Oliver—
The world had slowed.
He saw the serpent coming.
Its open maw.
The death it carried.
And then—
He swung.
__________
SILENCE.
The sword neither sang nor roared. Instead, the air folded in on itself, collapsing like a dying star
A thin, invisible slash carved through space itself.
And then—
The serpent was split apart.
No resistance.
No sound.
No blood splatter.
Its body simply ceased to exist.
From the point of contact, the venomous creature collapsed in on itself, as if its very being was being unmade, pulled apart by an unseen force.
BOOOM!
BOOOM!
BOOOM!
The battlefield erupted. The massive form of the serpent detonated in a blast of blackened energy, sending shockwaves rippling outward.
The ground quaked. The sky itself seemed to shudder in response to the blade’s unnatural existence.
Sera staggered backward.
Her breath was ragged.
Her clothes—torn.
Her body—riddled with wounds.
Her left arm trembled involuntarily, a streak of darkness seared into her shoulder.
She hadn’t even been hit directly.
Just the aftermath of the swing had done this.
She clutched her chest.
Her heart was racing.
Her vision warped.
Her body—shivering.
Not from pain.
Not from exhaustion.
But from—
Fear.
And her eyes—they refused, absolutely refused, to meet that thing in his hands.
She had seen it.
She wished she hadn’t.
Something deeply, profoundly wrong stood before her.
The disturbance that had no right to exist.
It was not a weapon.
It was wrong.
Her mind refused to process it.
She could see it with the naked eye; her mind was dazed. She wondered whether she would go blind if she used her eyes to see the true aura of that thing like she did with people.
Her heart compelled her to do it, even if it meant living a life of darkness forever; however, her brain disagreed and followed the body.
Her body felt hollow, like a whisper of death trailing along her skin.
The force of the attack had reached her too—her left arm trembled involuntarily, a streak of darkness seared along her shoulder, as if something far worse than pain had touched her.
For the first time in decades, Sera felt something she had long since forgotten.
For the first time, she truly understood—
What it meant to be prey.