Heart Poison

In that instant, something shattered, followed by the howl of wind.

As he threw the punch, his right arm suddenly swelled. The twitching bundles of muscle ballooned as though inflated, and in an instant, countless knotted muscles enlarged his arm severalfold, revealing an almost grotesquely savage form.

As Huai Shi dodged, the punch struck the ground, and the entire square suddenly trembled.

As though it had been hit by a tank's main cannon.

Was this change brought about by the fear Red Glove had once felt under the supervisor's records, or something else?

Huai Shi had no interest in finding out. He had died under this form of the instructor more than once or twice already.

Bullets, guns, and explosives had no effect whatsoever.

Just like a nightmare within a nightmare.

In Red Glove's memories, this instructor who had cruelly forged him into a weapon was practically the embodiment of invincibility. His strength had been artificially magnified, making him seem like a monster.

If Red Glove had not been absolutely certain that this instructor was merely an Ordinary Person, Huai Shi guessed the instructor's transformation would have involved sprouting bat wings and goat horns, casually kneading forbidden spells into existence and destroying the world.

Thankfully, it was only this much of a change. To Huai Shi, it was not too outrageous—

He reached down and dipped his fingers in the blood on the ground.

Hand of Confinement!

This was his first attempt to use the technique he had only just mastered within a record.

As the flame of Source Matter rose from his fingertips, the blood began to churn as though boiling. Gray vapor continuously steamed out from within it.

Tribulation Ash rose like thick fog from the corpses and blood of who knew how many people, shrouding the entire square.

Though Huai Shi had no idea why the Silver Sea had given his soul such a strange name as Hand of Confinement, he understood its nature perfectly. It was a relatively rare conversion-type ability among all categories, spanning both the spiritual and material systems.

Its domains were Source Matter and iron.

In other words, he could build a bridge between Source Matter, which represented the foundation of the soul within spiritual essence, and iron, the most widespread substance in matter, allowing either to be converted freely into the other.

It could be said to have an extensive range of uses.

That invisible axe was a weapon born when Huai Shi had entrusted the unease and killing intent he had accumulated over seven years to Source Matter, then converted it into iron.

And now, using Hand of Confinement as a foundation, Huai Shi once more attempted to convert the dissipating Source Matter in the outside world.

Thus, countless fine grains of rusty iron, too tiny for the naked eye to distinguish, rose from the blood.

They were the essence of destruction.

Tribulation Ash condensed from death.

Carried by the dry wind and dust, they clung to the pungent stench of blood and gunpowder, rising swiftly and spreading everywhere in an instant.

Bestowing all despair and pain equally upon everything.

In that instant, hoarse roars and furious howls came from within the dark fog. A hurricane spread with a shriek, yet it could not disperse the mist that lay between Source Matter and substance. A savage black shadow charged wildly toward Huai Shi, throwing down a punch!

Huai Shi twisted aside. The dagger in his right hand swept across, leaving a terrible wound on that enormous malformed arm. Then the dagger turned and stabbed toward the instructor's neck!

Clang!

The dagger plunged into the arm he had raised, striking bone. The sound was like steel crashing against steel.

A bestial, heavy breath erupted from the instructor's chest. The panting brought on by such violent strength caused him to gulp down the Tribulation Ash in the air, and under the provocation of pain and despair, his rage grew even more frenzied.

Like a wild beast.

"How does the despair you created with your own hands feel?" Huai Shi gripped his military dagger tightly, staring into the instructor's face across that malformed arm.

His smile was mocking.

"—I'm already used to it. What about you?"

Boom!

The enormous arm swept across, producing a deep roar as though it had crushed the air itself. The hurricane nearly blew Huai Shi three steps away, but then Huai Shi lunged forward once more, charging at the instructor he should never have been able to defeat.

His grin was savage.

He felt as though he were drunk.

At once, he felt deeply dazed and incomparably lucid, and then he felt a fervor.

It was an indescribable freedom.

Like the release that came after extreme rage.

Whenever he breathed, he drew the Tribulation Ash from the air into his lungs, inhaling the pain of the dead and becoming one with their despair.

As though he had merged with countless deaths.

He changed from recorder and recorded subject into one of the records.

At the same time, he could feel the pain brought by countless deaths, and he sank into the despair of those who had died amid slaughter and torment.

As though their souls stood beside him here.

Thus, those insubstantial deaths became flames, boiling within his chest. Mixed with his anger, unwillingness, and will, they became an inexplicable impulse that erupted from within, swallowing him whole and urging him to face his opponent, deliver punishment, and bring true death!

Thus, within the grip of Hand of Confinement, gray flames rose from the blade—far darker and paler than Tribulation Ash, a pure thing tempered, extracted, and sublimated anew from countless instances of despair and pain.

Pure poison.

It was a poisonous substance harvested from the records of death, death formed from Tribulation Ash refined to its utmost limit. Though it had no destructive effect on the body, once touched, it would undoubtedly inflict upon the wounded person the absolutely real agony of death in the mind, just as Huai Shi himself had experienced countless times.

In that instant, the writing in the Book of Destiny quietly changed. It was not only Military Boxing, whose level was rapidly soaring; a new branch silently emerged beneath Hand of Confinement's soul description as well, an application of the soul worthy of its recognition.

—Heart Poison!

"Yes, just like that. Repay blood with blood, tooth with tooth!"

Crow stared at the boy immersed in madness within the record and seemed to smile in delight. "Go, represent death. Wreak vengeance upon the beasts in this dark ravine!

This is your destiny, Huai Shi, Last Defender of Heaven..."

In that instant, Huai Shi's dagger came down.

The malformed instructor roared in pain. His enormous arm smashed down, seemingly breaking Huai Shi's left arm, which he could no longer feel anyway. Huai Shi did not waver in the slightest. Still nearly forgetting himself, he stepped forward, staring at that twisted face from close at hand.

His pitch-black pupils brimmed with pure darkness.

Then the military dagger came down again!

Clang!

Though it was clearly a light military dagger, in the grasp of Hand of Confinement, it gave off a heavy, air-rending roar when it fell, like a massive axe.

An unbelievable weight emerged from within it. With Huai Shi's swings, it severed the enemy's tendons and split apart flesh again and again.

The sound of bones breaking was like firewood splitting beneath a great axe.

The instructor roared, clenched his fist, spread his massive fingers, and grabbed for Huai Shi's face. Yet in the next instant, with a chop of the military dagger, the iron-colored palm was severed between the index and ring fingers.

It split into two pieces.

The blade wedged deeply into his wrist.

In the midst of agonizing pain, he saw Huai Shi take a deep breath. Then Huai Shi let out a hoarse roar and lunged forward!

Thunder erupted!

As that military dagger abruptly shattered, the fire of Source Matter surged from within, forming the outline of a blade. Inch by inch, it advanced with unstoppable force, smashing through everything as it split the entire arm evenly down the middle!

Then the burning dagger rose again and fell!

The malformed arm dropped from the instructor's shoulder to the ground. Blood spurted from the wound, falling upon the square where blood had been shed countless times.

It gathered with the blood of those suffering old men, despairing women, and bewildered children, becoming the same dim, somber color upon the wasteland.

The instructor desperately shoved him away, but could not steady himself. He staggered backward and fell to the ground.

But Huai Shi moved forward, panting as he stumbled over one corpse after another, passing before pairs of vacant eyes and leaving his blood-red silhouette within their faded gaze.

"Thanks to you, I finally figured something out—"

He murmured softly, then suddenly lifted his foot and stepped on the instructor's chest, pinning him back to the ground while the man struggled in vain.

At last, he raised the dagger and aimed it at the instructor's neck from afar.

"The reason I chose to become an Ascender—"

As though saying goodbye, Huai Shi solemnly stared at that twisted face and told him, one word at a time:

"—was to chop off the dog heads of bastards like you!"

In that instant, as the blade fell, a deep crack was left in the earth.

Blood sprayed from the neck of the headless corpse, flowing along the fissure and pouring into the parched wasteland. It brought rare moisture to that dead land, leaving behind a faint hope that flowers might bloom there next year.

Then Huai Shi saw the entire world begin to shake.

Everything shattered.

He sank into darkness, then soon awoke from his chair. He was drenched in sweat, feeling as though he had collapsed from exhaustion, miserable beyond words.

Yet for some reason, his heart felt calm and satisfied.

As though that false revenge had given him recompense.

"Congratulations on clearing the stage."

Crow stood atop the table, studying his appearance. "Did you gain anything, Huai Shi?"

"..."

Huai Shi fell silent, not knowing how to answer.

In the end, he had accomplished nothing. It did not count as salvation, nor could it count as revenge.

Perhaps everything had ended more than a decade ago. All he had done was dislike the original story, tear up the original work, and write his own piece of fanfiction.

What could he possibly gain from that?

After pondering for a moment, he laughed softly.

"A beautiful dream, perhaps. At least it had a beginning and an end..."

As he spoke, he supported himself against the table and slowly rose. Seeing the dagger he had placed there, he could not help picking it up, idly turning it in his hand twice before tossing it back onto the table.

"As for everything else, I'll just consider it a little consolation prize..."

With that, he stopped looking at anything else and turned toward the stairs.

After staying up all day, he felt dizzy and light-headed. His vision kept going dark, and he was about to die of sleepiness.

Nothing in this world was better than a deep, thorough sleep.

If there was, then it was sleeping twice.

"Go to bed early."

He waved a hand and shut the bedroom door.

Crow watched the boy's figure disappear up the stairs, then turned back toward the table.

Under the faint glow of the desk lamp, that cheap mail-order dagger faintly gleamed with an iron hue. It was embedded in the cracked, peeling finish of the long table, casting a long shadow.

And where the dagger tip had struck, a terrible scar was clearly visible.

As though cleaved by an axe.

"Good night, Huai Shi."

Sleep.

Crow spread its wings and flew into the hazy night beyond the window.

It vanished from sight.