Chapter 116: Genesis

All the civilians froze.

Above the ruined street, spheres of condensed light hovered into existence, silent and perfectly still. For half a second, no one moved.

Then the spheres began to glow and panic exploded, as someone turned to run, a beam of light erupted and it pierced straight through the man’s head, vaporizing it instantly, as his body collapsed before the sound even registered.

That was enough.

People screamed. They ran. They tripped over each other in blind terror.

The spheres answered.

Light crisscrossed the street in chaotic patterns, beams snapping from one target to another with no rhythm, no mercy. Citizens fell like flies, heads pierced, torsos cored, limbs severed. The street turned into a slaughterhouse in seconds.

Adam didn’t move.

He stood there as death bloomed around him, senses stretching to their absolute limit, trying to find him.

Where are you?…

Bodies dropped. Blood sprayed. Essence scattered.

The scent of death thickened until it drowned everything else.

Adam closed his eyes.

His death affinity screamed, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of dying souls. Every death blurred together, masking the single presence he was searching for.

Focus.

Another body fell beside him.

Another scream cut off mid-breath.

Adam forced everything out, sound, fear, rage, until only instinct remained.

Then…

His eyes snapped open and he tilted his head, as a beam sliced past his cheek. Then he moved.

Like water slipping through cracks, he shifted his body by inches, letting beams pass where he had been. One step. A twist. A lean. Light tore through the space he vacated a heartbeat earlier.

The screams faded from his awareness.

There was only motion.

Beams came from every direction, above, behind, reflected off broken glass and metal. Adam flowed between them, minimal movements carrying him through lethal gaps no normal human could perceive.

A beam shot toward his chest, as Adam dodged another pushing him straight into its path.

It was already too late…

No.

He snapped the scythe up.

The length of the black iron scythe took the hit, the scythe split cleanly in two, energy shearing past on either side as the scythe screamed under the strain. The action bought him time, as Adam twisted and slipped free.

The attacks suddenly stopped and silence fell, broken only by distant sirens and the crackle of burning debris.

Adam looked up.

The man had appeared.

Crouched casually beside the corpse of a mother and child who had been trying to escape. One arm rested on his knee, head tilted as if examining something mildly interesting.

The Profound Lord looked at Adam and smiled faintly.

“Impressive,” he said softly.

Adam stood still.

One half of the black iron scythe hung in each hand, the split edges still humming faintly. His breathing was rough, not panicked, just taxed.

The man watched him with interest.

“I’m surprised,” he said lightly. “You just stood there and watched all those innocent people die.” He paused, tilting his head. “I thought you’d at least try to protect a few.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Would’ve made for a nice distraction. A cool sneak attack, maybe.”

Adam didn’t react.

The man’s smile slowly faded.

“You seem… different,” he said. “The reports said you were snarky and quick with one-liners.” He straightened from his crouch, then casually kicked the corpses of the mother and child aside. “But you’re quiet. Focused.”

His eyes narrowed.

“It’s almost like you have a vendetta against me.”

Realization flickered.

“…Did you expect me?”

He shook his head, laughing softly, then louder and unhinged. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Who expects their own death and still walks into it? Only a madman.”

Adam exhaled slowly.

“I have a question.”

That caught the man off guard.

The Profound Lord looked at him. “Oh? You talk. Go on, ask.”

Adam lifted his gaze, eyes cold and steady.

“Nine years ago. The rift disaster that happened here.”

A beat.

“It was you people who caused it, right?”

The smile vanished.

Then the man burst into manic laughter, clutching his stomach as if the question itself amused him beyond reason. He straightened, eyes gleaming with open delight.

“So that’s what this is about,” he said. “Your obsession. Your attention on me.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re not curious about power or secrets, you just want to know if we caused the rift disaster nine years ago.”

He inhaled sharply.

All amusement drained away.

“You really are pathetic.”

Essence surged.

Behind him, his profound spirit manifested, sharp, oppressive, wielding a katana that seemed to hum with slaughter.

“If you want an answer,” he said coldly, “you’ll have to beat it out of me.”

He vanished.

Instantly reappearing in front of Adam, katana already descending.

Clang!

Adam deflected with one half of the broken scythe, sparks tearing through the air. He twisted and brought the other half up in a brutal arc toward the man’s head.

The Profound Lord slipped aside, elbow smashing into Adam’s nose, disorienting him, before a spartan kick followed, dead center into Adam’s chest, launching him backward.

Adam spun midair, boots carving lines into the ground as he landed a good distance away. He lowered his center of gravity, stabilized and charged forward.

The Profound Lord met him head-on, as their eyes locked for a moment and petrification F — Activated.

The man’s body locked for a split second.

“…What?” he hissed in shock.

Too late.

Rapid surged to its limit.

Adam closed the distance instantly.

The Profound Lord shattered the petrification and slashed, but it was a feint.

Adam sidestepped, slipped behind him.

The man reacted just as fast, both of them swinging at the same time.

Then the man’s arm jerked unnaturally the other way.

His eyes widened.

Mind Control E.

The opening was absolute.

The Wind howled and Death answered.

Adam poured everything into it as his profound spirit manifested behind him, towering, cloaked in screaming air.

“Wind Carnage: Requiem.”

Point blank.

The attack detonated and the Profound Lord was launched like a broken doll, crashing through buildings until…

BOOM!

Dust and debris filled the street.

When it cleared, the image was unmistakable.

The Profound Lord was lodged deep into a shattered building, a massive, gaping wound torn through his chest.

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