Chapter 193: Good Boy Dren

Zane stood still.

Coat torn, posture relaxed, hands loose at his sides—as if the battlefield itself was nothing more than a stage beneath his feet.

Across from him, Dren hovered in the air, pale yellow mana roaring around his twisted form like a storm that refused to calm. The Heart of the Deep Forge pulsed inside his chest, each beat shaking the ground beneath them.

Dren’s thoughts spiraled.

What is this…?

I’m using everything. Every drop. Infinite mana.

So why—why is it still not enough…?

His jaw clenched.

No… calm down.

He doesn’t have infinite mana like me.

It has to end.

I just have to drag this out.

Drain him.

Then I kill him and leave this place.

From afar, Zane’s voice carried—clear, calm, almost bored.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said.

“I think your game is finished now.”

Dren’s eyes snapped up.

Zane continued, his tone sharpening just slightly.

“I’m going to fulfill my promise.”

“You remember it, right?”

He took a single step forward.

“I said I’d feed you the Heart of the Deep Forge—”

“and then kill you.”

Dren roared.

“I’LL KILL YOU—!!”

The world flashed white.

Dren vanished in a burst of blinding light, space tearing as he crossed the distance in an instant. The air screamed under the force of his movement, the ground behind him shattering into molten fractures.

He appeared right in front of Zane—

Fist already drawn back.

The clash detonated the world.

Dren’s fist met Zane’s guard—and the continent beneath them split. The ground folded inward, mountains collapsing like sand as a shockwave ripped outward, carving a glowing scar across the red land.

They vanished.

Reappearing above an endless red desert.

Dren struck first—hundreds of mana blades forming from the Heart, tearing through the sky in intersecting arcs. Each blade carried enough force to cleave cities.

Zane moved once.

A single step.

The blades disintegrated just as they touch the exploding mana barrier around him.

Zane punched.

The air didn’t rupture.

It ended.

Dren’s upper body burst into a cloud of blood and light, flesh scattering across the horizon like red mist caught in a storm.

For a fraction of a second, there was nothing.

Then the Heart pulsed.

Mana surged backward.

Bone rewove. Flesh snapped back into place. Blood reversed course. In less than a breath, Dren stood whole again, gasping, eyes wide with fury.

They vanished again.

This time above a frozen ocean near planet’s pole .

Dren screamed, slamming both hands down—mana cascaded outward, freezing the sea solid for thousands of kilometers, jagged ice spears erupting upward to impale Zane from every angle.

Zane dropped from the sky.

He landed on the ice.

The impact shattered the frozen ocean, shockwaves traveling through the planet’s crust. The ice, the sea beneath it, the bedrock below—everything ruptured.

Dren turned.

But Zane was already there.

Another punch.

Dren’s legs disintegrated. Then his torso. Then his head—gone in a spray of crimson vapor.

Again, the Heart dragged him back.

Again.

They reappeared above a volcanic continent.

Dren unleashed everything.

Solar flares of mana. Entire mountain ranges vaporized, magma bursting skyward like oceans turned inside out.

Zane walked through it.

Each step erased Dren’s attack.

It’s like he was warping reality around him.

Punch.

Mist.

Reform.

Punch.

Mist.

Reform.

They crossed continents in seconds—deserts turned to glass, skies split open by the recoil of their blows. From orbit, the planet looked like it was being carved apart by an invisible god.

Dren was panting now.

The Heart still burned—but his mind was cracking.

“WHY—!” he screamed as his arm regenerated again.

“WHY ISN’T YOUR MANA ENDING ?!”

“WHY CAN’T I DEFEAT YOU?!”

Zane appeared in front of him once more, fist already buried in Dren’s chest.

This time, he didn’t pull it out.

He leaned in slightly, voice calm, almost gentle.

“You still don’t understand,” Zane said.

“Idiot.”

Dren’s body began to unravel again.

“And you didn’t realize until now?” Zane continued.

“You’re regenerating slower than before.”

The Heart pulsed wildly, struggling to keep up.

Then Zane punched again.

The planet shook.

And Dren exploded into bloody mist—once more.

Dren staggered as his body finished reforming, breath uneven, eyes wide.

“…What?” he muttered, staring at Zane. “You’re lying.”

He straightened, forcing confidence into his voice.

“I have infinite mana.”

Zane shook his head once.

“No,” he said calmly. “You don’t.”

Dren snarled. “This—!” He slapped the Heart embedded in his chest. “This draws from the planet’s core. Infinite generation!”

Zane sighed, almost bored.

“Here,” he said. “Let me show you.”

He vanished.

Reappeared.

A single flick of Zane’s finger struck Dren’s chest.

Shing.

Dren’s upper torso detonated into a cloud of blood and light, mist scattering across the red sky.

Silence.

The Heart pulsed.

The mist trembled… gathered… slowed.

Seconds passed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Dren’s body finally reformed, crashing to one knee as he gasped for breath.

His eyes trembled.

“…See, Five seconds?” Zane said, tilting his head.

Dren’s pupils shrank.

“No—no, that’s not possible!”

Zane continued, voice even.

“Earlier, you regenerated from same injury instantly, withno delays.”

He raised a finger.

“but now it took whopping five seconds.”

Dren looked down at the Heart, panic seeping through his fury.

“That’s impossible… it’s infinite…!”

Zane shook his head.

“Even planets don’t have infinite energy,” he said. “Nothing in this universe does.”

He stepped closer.

“That little thing in your chest produces an absurd amount of mana. So much that people like you mistake it for infinite mana .”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“But the moment you consume more mana than it can produce per second—your ’infinite’ becomes finite.”

Dren clenched his teeth.

“Then explain this!” he shouted.

“Why are you still standing? Why hasn’t your mana run dry?!”

Zane smiled.

A small, quiet smile.

“I said nothing has infinite mana,” he replied.

Then his purple eyes gleamed.

“But the rules of the universes…”

“…don’t apply to me.”

Dren froze.

“…What?”

His voice cracked. “What do you mean… the rules don’t apply to you?”

Zane didn’t answer.

He vanished.

Reappeared inches from Dren’s face.

Crack.

Zane’s palm smashed into Dren’s jaw.

There was no scream—only an explosive burst of blood and bone as Dren’s lower face was obliterated mid-syllable. His body staggered back, hands clawing at nothing, a broken gargle escaping his throat.

His eyes widened in pure terror.

Zane stepped forward, boots crunching against scorched ground.

“Time to eat, Dren.”

Dren tried to retreat—tried to teleport—but nothing happened. The Heart pulsed wildly, unstable, panicking along with its host.

Zane plunged his hand into Dren’s chest.

The Heart of the Deep Forge was ripped free.

It screamed—not in sound, but in violent mana vibrations—its liquid-metal casing thrashing like a living thing. Zane tightened his grip, crushing it inch by inch as the artifact convulsed.

“Open wide,” Zane said calmly.

“Say ahh.”

Dren tried to scream.

“AHHHHH—!!”

Pain and fear tore through him as his ruined mouth regenerated just enough—

And Zane forced the Heart straight inside.

The artifact vanished past torn flesh and broken teeth, shoved down without mercy.

Blood splattered across Zane’s face and coat.

He stood there, crimson dripping from his fingers, smiling.

A slow, sinister smile.

“Good boy.”

Zane straightened, eyes glowing faintly as he looked down at the shaking, dying dwarf.

“Now,” he said softly,

“it’s time to kill you.”

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