Chapter 198: Nobody Touches My Things

The air was silent.

Somewhere in the open sky, Zane was casually juggling something with his foot.

Tap.

Spin.

Kick.

A head bounced lightly off his shoe, arcing through the air before landing back against his instep.

Tyron’s eyes widened.

That head—

San’s head.

Blood still trailed faintly through the air as it spun, divine radiance already fading, reduced to nothing more than a toy.

Tap.

Kick.

Catch.

Zane didn’t even look impressed.

Tyron felt his throat tighten.

Jin was dead.

San was dead.

Both of them—divine soldier of the god realm—killed so easily that it hadn’t even registered as a fight.

This mortal…

No.

This man—

He didn’t kill them.

He discarded them.

Tyron clenched his fists, divine mana churning violently around his body.

“…Who are you?” he demanded, voice strained despite himself.

“You’re not a mortal. Don’t insult me by pretending.”

Zane finally stopped.

He let the head drop, catching it lazily in one hand by the hair. It dangled there, lifeless, like an object that had already lost all value.

He looked up at Tyron at last.

Eyes calm.

Smile faint.

Danger absolute.

“Really?” Zane said lightly.

“I told you already.”

He tossed the head aside. It rolled across the ground and stopped at Tyron’s feet.

His smile widened just a little.

Tyron asked again,

“Who are you…?? Tell me!!!!!”

Zane didn’t answer Tyron’s question.

He disappeared.

The air distorted for a fraction of a second—and then Zane was standing directly in front of Tyron, so close that Tyron instinctively recoiled. There was no warning. No mana fluctuation. No spatial ripple he could sense.

Tyron’s instincts screamed danger.

Divine mana surged through his body as he threw a punch at Zane’s face, pouring power into it with murderous intent. This mortal—no, this thing—had already killed Jin and San. He wouldn’t underestimate him again.

The punch landed.

A sickening crack echoed through the air.

Tyron’s eyes widened in horror as pain exploded up his arm. His fist had shattered on impact, bones collapsing inward, skin tearing as if he had struck an immovable divine artifact rather than flesh.

“AAAAAAAAARGHHH—!!”

He screamed, staggering backward, clutching his ruined arm as blood dripped onto the ground. His divine mana surged automatically, trying to heal him—

Nothing happened.

Zane hadn’t moved an inch.

He looked at Tyron’s broken arm, then at Tyron himself, eyes calm, almost curious. As if examining a flawed tool.

Interesting…

Zane’s gaze sharpened slightly.

That bloodline.

Those eyes.

Now that he was closer, it was unmistakable. The same foundation as Ron’s—ancient, powerful, thick with potential—but twisted. A lineage of strong warriors, reduced to arrogant tyrants.

He is Ron’s ancestor and that’s why Arin’s system was trying to make ron villain because apparently it’s hereditary , Zane thought.

He stepped forward.

Tyron tried to retreat, panic finally breaking through his composure, but it was far too late. Zane caught his intact arm effortlessly, then seized the shattered one as well.

“No—WAIT—!!”

Zane pulled.

The sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone echoed grotesquely as both of Tyron’s arms were ripped from his body. Blood sprayed violently, divine light flickering uselessly around the severed stumps.

Tyron collapsed to his knees, screaming in agony, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face.

“I’ll—heal—!!” he gasped desperately.

“I can still—!”

But the healing never came.

His eyes trembled as realization set in.

Why…?

Why isn’t my divine regeneration responding…?

Zane crouched slightly, gripping Tyron by the face. His fingers forced Tyron’s mouth open as his other hand seized his tongue.

Tyron’s eyes went wide in pure terror.

“NNNGH—!!”

Zane tore it out.

Blood poured from Tyron’s mouth as he choked, convulsing helplessly, his screams reduced to wet, muffled noises. His body shook violently, his divine aura collapsing into chaos.

Zane leaned closer, his voice dropping—cold, final.

“This,” he said quietly,

“is what happens when you touch what belongs to me.”

His hands moved inside Tyron’s mouth, gripping both sides of his jaw.

Tyron’s eyes locked onto Zane’s.

Begging.

Screaming without sound.

Zane applied pressure.

Slowly.

Cruelly.

Bone cracked. Then split.

With one decisive motion, Zane tore him apart from the jaw downward. Blood erupted like a broken dam, staining the ground, staining Zane’s coat, soaking the air in death.

What remained of Tyron collapsed lifelessly at his feet.

Silence followed.

Zane straightened, blood dripping from his hands, his expression calm and he was smiling..

Behind him, Eirenyssa stood frozen.

Her lips curved upward.

Not in fear.

But in awe and obsession.

Zane walked toward Eirenyssa.

She was still frozen in place, eyes shining, breath unsteady. Awe—and something dangerously close to obsession—lingered on her face.

My lord… he is so strong…

Zane stopped in front of her and raised his palm.

A soft green magic circle bloomed in the air, layered and intricate, humming gently. He pushed it forward. The circle passed through Eirenyssa’s body like a warm breeze.

Her wounds vanished instantly.

The pain faded. The fatigue disappeared. Her divine essence stabilized, cleaner and purer than before. Strength returned to her limbs, and warmth spread through her chest.

Eirenyssa inhaled sharply.

My lord’s mana… it feels… overwhelming…

Zane felt a bead of sweat form at his temple.

Then he extended his hand.

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

Eirenyssa stared at his hand for half a second before taking it. The moment their hands touched, heat rushed to her face. Her ears burned. Steam practically rose from her head.

Then the world blurred.

Space folded.

In the next instant, they were standing inside the teacher’s residence—Zane’s room. Familiar walls. A neatly kept space. His bed in plain sight.

“Let’s start now,” Zane said.

Eirenyssa froze again.

Her face turned completely red.

Steam actually puffed from her head.

“M-my lord…!” she stammered, panicking. “I-I’m n-not ready but if it’s you then I—”

She reached for her clothes—

Chop.

Zane’s hand landed cleanly on the top of her head.

She snapped back to reality, yelping softly.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Eirenyssa,” Zane said calmly.

“And tell me why you’re here.”

She clutched her head, mortified.

“Ah—y-yes! The reason! The information!”

She straightened instantly, expression turning serious.

Then she noticed something floating nearby.

A tiny holographic chibi figure stared at her—arms crossed, barely holding back laughter.

Eirenyssa’s eye twitched.

Zane glanced over.

“Eira you too record the information instead of laughing.”

The chibi tilted her head smugly.

Eirenyssa swallowed and spoke quickly.

“My lord… the world is about to be destroyed by the God Realm .”

Zane’s lips curved upward, amused.

“…By the God Realm?”

The room went quiet.

And that was when the real conversation began.

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