“Void.”
The word slipped from my lips, barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of everything I had been missing.
The battlefield, the searing heat of the Kraken’s cosmic beam, the molten scars left in its wake—none of it mattered for that single moment.
Because now, I understood.
My grip tightened around my estoc as the realization settled into my bones, threading itself through my thoughts with unshakable clarity.
[Void Starfall Blade.]
The technique my master had taught me. The technique I had spent years perfecting. The foundation of my swordsmanship.
And yet, I had never questioned it.
“Master,” I had once asked, turning to Gerald in the middle of training, sweat dripping down my brow. “Why did you give the technique that name?”
It had been an idle question at the time. A curiosity, nothing more.
Gerald’s response, however, had been strange.
“I felt like it,” he had said simply, his tone casual, as if the answer was obvious.
I had frowned. “You felt like it?”
“Yes,” Gerald had nodded, his gaze distant. “Even though I don’t know why, the moment I formed my core, and understood how to cultivate, a sword technique took shape in my mind. And the name of the technique followed just like that.”
Those were his words.
One of the strongest in the world.
Perhaps the greatest genius this world had ever seen.
Starscourge Gerald.
A man who had created his own cultivation, who had forged his own path without guidance, without lineage, without the privilege of noble blood. A man who had rewritten the very principles of power itself.
And yet, even he had said it simply came to him.
‘Then that means…’
My eyes flickered back to the Kraken.
To the starlight energy pulsing through its monstrous form. To the way it resonated with me, with my Devourer of Stars core.
To the way it regenerated, endlessly consuming energy, refusing to die.
I exhaled slowly.
“I see now…”
The connection that had eluded me. The missing piece.
Gerald never taught me the higher-ranked techniques of the [Void Starfall Blade]. Whether it was because he believed my body couldn’t handle it, or because he himself didn’t know, I had never been certain.
But now—
“I understand why you gave it that name, Master.”
I rolled my wrist, my estoc humming with energy, but this time, I didn’t force Starlight Energy into it.
This time, I let go.
Because [Void Starfall Blade] wasn’t just a technique.
It was a principle.
I had been relying on Starlight.
“But does the name of my cultivation technique say anything about Starlight?”
The thought struck me like a blade to the gut.
I had always assumed—no, I had always focused on the Starlight aspect of my abilities. I had drawn my strength from it, molded my techniques around it, refined it into something lethal, something unstoppable.
But…
[Devourer of Stars.]
That was my core.
That was my foundation.
And nowhere in that name did it say anything about Starlight.
I inhaled sharply, my gaze locking onto the monstrous form of the Kraken once more. The foreign energy coursing through it flickered in my vision, pulsing between its grotesque limbs, surging along its regenerating flesh.
Not just Starlight.
Not just Void.
But a mixture of both.
My mind reeled back, reaching for something—a memory.
The vision.
I had seen it countless times before.
That vast, endless expanse.
The cosmos stretching infinitely, stars burning with celestial brilliance.
And among them—
That one star.
The black star.
The one that had called to me. The one that had chosen me. The one that had been the source of my very core.
What had that meant?
Was [Devourer of Stars] something as simple as Starlight?
Or—
“Was it the fusion of Starlight and Void?”
Just like the name of my sword technique.
Just like the power the Kraken was wielding right now.
I exhaled, my lips curling into something close to a laugh.
“Haha… How funny is that?”
I had been fighting the answer this entire time. Searching for something that had been right in front of me from the very beginning.
I could sense it now.
The breakthrough was near.
My core trembled, energy surging in my veins like a wildfire barely contained.
The Kraken shrieked, its abyssal cry reverberating through the cavern, its wounds sealing faster, its body adapting.
It was waiting for me.
It was daring me to step forward.
To accept what I had been denying.
To become what I was meant to be.
I grinned, rolling my shoulders, the energy in my core shifting—changing—awakening.
“Alright then,” I murmured, stepping forward.
BOOM!
I shot forward, my body blurring into motion.
Pain no longer mattered. The gashes along my ribs, the taste of iron in my mouth, the steady drip of blood down my fingers—none of it registered anymore. The only thing that existed was the thrill.
The rush of battle.
The exhilaration of stepping into the unknown.
SWOOSH!
The Kraken’s limbs came down like falling mountains. A blur of grotesque flesh, thick and unyielding, carving through the battlefield with monstrous force.
I twisted, evading with a step so light it barely disturbed the broken stone beneath me.
SLASH.
My estoc carved through the air, its edge wreathed in a pulse of void-starlight. The attack tore through one of the beast’s tendrils, severing it in a single fluid motion.
Schlrkkk—
Regeneration.
Instant.
A snarl of abyssal energy crackled through the Kraken’s form as it stitched itself back together.
I laughed.
Not out of mockery. Not out of frustration.
But because this—this—was fun.
I had fought countless battles. Stood on the precipice of life and death more times than I could count. But this—fighting on the edge, pushing past my limits, discovering something new—this was what I lived for.
“Come on!” I grinned, my breath ragged but my energy surging. “Is that all you’ve got?”
The Kraken shrieked, its abyssal form shifting, twisting.
A barrage of obsidian spikes erupted from its body, raining down upon me in a storm of lethal precision.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
I wove through them, my estoc dancing, flicking the projectiles aside mid-motion. My body moved on instinct—no, beyond instinct. It felt as if I had already seen these attacks a hundred times over, as if my movements were merely a natural response to what I already knew was coming.
The rhythm of battle was intoxicating.
The pain in my body no longer felt like a burden.
It was fuel.
And then—
Something within me shifted.
Not just my movements. Not just my sword.
My core.
I could feel it—the trembling, the pull, the very structure of my energy changing as I continued to fight.
Because this wasn’t just about reaching the next step.
This was about breaking through.
‘Previously, when I reached the Fourth Star…’
I had connected the three stars that I had formed in each breakthrough.
First star. Second star. Third star.
Each step had created a new star, forming them one by one as I advanced.
But this time—
This time, that wasn’t what I needed.
I could feel it in my very core.
The next step wasn’t about forming another star.
It wasn’t about strengthening the bonds by creating a new connection.
It was about something more.
“Bending the space, like a void.”
The realization struck me mid-motion, my estoc gleaming as I slashed through another tentacle, my body twisting past the monstrous retaliation.
It was about the pull.
Not outward.
Not forward.
Inward.
The three stars that I had formed—each a stepping stone to my growth—were already connected by the Void between them.
And now, the next step…
Was to pull them together.
Not into a fourth star.
But into a center.
Like the heart of a galaxy.
Like the singularity that everything revolved around.
The Void in my core trembled.
It called.
It demanded.
I grinned.
“Ah… so that’s it.”
I finally understood.
And then—
Everything collapsed.
The world around me blurred—no, it folded. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire
The three stars within my core, once scattered, were dragged inward.
Not into destruction.
Not into chaos.
But into balance.
Into the Void.
BOOOOOOOOM!
The battlefield erupted in a wave of abyssal force as my breakthrough ignited, my energy surging, my entire being shifting.
And for the first time—
I was stepping into something entirely new.