Chapter 67: 67. World academy trials – 13 (Cults attack)

Vorin was an Ascension-ranked warrior, a being who stood above the majority of cultivators in the world, and his mastery over the space elemental spells alone made him a walking calamity.

Even among those who had reached similar realms of power, very few could stand against him directly without paying a severe price.

Space was not an element one could defend against easily, it ignored distance, shattered logic, and tore through defenses that relied on durability.

His past was like any other cliché villain,

Vorin was not born into reverence or legacy. He was a halfling, a cursed union of dragon and demon bloodlines that should never have merged.

His existence was an insult to dragons, beings that considered themselves the purest and most supreme race in existence.

To them, blood purity was law, and deviation was filth. As a result, Vorin had grown up surrounded by contempt, mockery, and thinly veiled disgust.

No matter how strong he became, the stench of his birth never left him in their eyes.

Yet if dragons valued pride and lineage, demons valued only one thing, strength. They respected power above all else, and in that brutal hierarchy, weakness was a sin.

Vorin inherited both bloodlines, and with them, a warped sense of ambition and hunger. His cracked nature, both mental and emotional, was not a flaw but a consequence of years of degradation and survival.

That instability, that unhinged edge to his personality, earned him recognition among demonic cults that worshiped demons and destruction as a form of truth.

Right now, he was doing what he did best unleashing devastation.

The forest below him had turned into a slaughterhouse.

Massive ancient trees lay split or uprooted, their trunks warped and twisted by spatial distortions. The air was thick with blood mist.

Screams echoed between the trunks, short-lived and desperate, often cut off mid-breath. His subordinates clad in warped armor were scattered across the forest floor, hunting down participants like animals.

Most of the victims were not even worthy opponents.

He could not spot most of the high tier participants that he had specially come for, but still damage was being done, and he was not worried about failing his mission.

Vorin hovered calmly in the air, arms loosely crossed, observing the carnage like a bored god watching insects struggle in a flood.

his eyes momentarily shifted to sudden fluctuations he felt in a distance.

A sudden surge of energy erupted far away, several hundred miles off, yet so intense that it punched through the ambient mana like a shockwave.

The atmosphere warped for a split second, and even the clouds above distorted unnaturally.

Vorin’s eyes narrowed.

He felt it clearly. Something did not belong.

He turned his gaze toward the source, his expression shifting from boredom to mild irritation.

“Well, well… look who it is?” a voice spoke from behind him.

Vorin did not react immediately. He did not need to. His perception told him everything before his eyes did.

Slowly, he turned, his gaze settling on a young man hovering in the air behind him.

Blue hair fluttered lightly despite the unnatural stillness of the atmosphere. A strange silver sword rested in the man’s grip, its surface was reflecting light in a way that did not belong to any known metal.

Vorin studied him for a moment, then let out a breath that almost resembled amusement.

Without saying a word, he raised one hand and casually flicked his wrist.

Space in front of the newcomer warped violently. A dark void began forming, folding inward as if reality itself was being crushed and peeled apart. It expanded rapidly, aiming to swallow the man whole, a spatial collapse that would tear flesh, bone, and body into unrecognizable fragments.

But something unexpected happened.

The space tear stalled.

Golden particles erupted around the distortion. They clung to the fractured space, stitching it together, resisting the collapse. The void trembled violently, then stabilized, unable to expand any further.

Vorin’s brows furrowed slightly.

“This realm won’t allow it,” the blue-haired man said calmly. “Too bad. Now you’re trapped here like me.”

Will had already put several restrictions on the realm when he was altering the formations in this domain, he made it so that any change in space would be restricted by the realm itself.

Although it won’t be enough to completely suppress Vorin, but now at least the domain will actively work to negate most of the fluctuations in space.

His techniques would land, but their efficiency had dropped sharply.

“Who are you?” Vorin growled, annoyance creeping into his voice. His scarred face twisted, making him look even more monstrous than before.

“A bastard like you isn’t worthy of knowing,” Will replied calmly, before vanishing from sight.

He activated the Invisibility trait instantly and disappeared from active sight.

Vorin let out a harsh chuckle. “Do you think that would work, human insect?”

Even without seeing him, Vorin could still perceive the golden sword intent radiating through the air.

He thought that the human boy had made a grave mistake by using this sword energy, now he didn’t need to use any divine sense, since he could already track the boy with his eyes.

The golden aura surged forward suddenly, streaking through the sky toward him with terrifying speed.

Vorin responded without hesitation. Space condensed around his right claw as he swung, the motion so fast that even an S-rank observer would struggle to track it.

The edge of his claw tore through reality itself, creating thin lines of distortion meant to annihilate anything it touched.

Yet the expected resistance never came, the blood mist vorin wanted to see never appeared.

Before confusion could settle, a sword’s movement thundered from a different direction.

“Origin Severance.”

The air screamed.

A colossal slash, drenched in stellar fire, erupted across the battlefield.

The attack cut approached with overwhelming force, its trajectory was accurately pinned on Vorin’s head.

Vorin barely had time to register it before it was already upon him.

The sword’s roar drowned out everything else.

The strike landed, but Vorin still was able to avoid the major vitals of his body.

The impact was catastrophic. A blazing arc carved across Vorin’s arm, tearing through his flesh and with horrifying precision.

The stellar flames clung to him, burning not just his body but something far deeper.

He was thrown back violently, his form spinning midair before stabilizing through brute force.

He looked down.

One of his arms was nearly severed, a deep gash splitting through it at an unnatural angle. The wound burned with an alien energy that refused to extinguish itself.

“AAARGHHHHH!!”

The scream tore from his throat before he could stop it.

Pain like this was rare. He had endured fatal wounds before, injuries that would have killed lesser beings instantly, yet this was different.

This pain was too invasive as if it was running towards his soul itself.

The energy clung to him, gnawing at his demonic essence, corroding it from within.

His regeneration faltered. His power stuttered.

The sensation was like being eaten alive.

His skin began to decay around the wound, blackening and peeling as if rotting in real time.

Snarling, Vorin acted instantly. Without hesitation, he brought his claws down and severed his own arm in a brutal, clean motion.

The limb fell away, disintegrating midair as the stellar fire consumed it entirely.

The moment it detached, the pain lessened. His breathing steadied, though fury burned in his eyes.

—

[A/N – when I am describing stellar energy as corrosive, it is from the POV of Vorin who uses demonic energy, for him the energy is corrosive.]

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