The moment the crimson sphere left Vance’s fingertips, the world itself seemed to recoil.

The air warped around it, rippling like heat haze over molten stone.

Its core spun with violent intensity, a miniature sun of destructive will, and every rotation produced a keening wail that resonated in the bones of everyone present.

The marble floor beneath it cracked and lifted as if the very ground was being torn toward it, while the chandeliers above rattled and rained sparks.

Even the torches along the walls sputtered and died, leaving the hall shrouded in a gloom illuminated only by the pulsating, murderous light of the Crimson Doom.

As it traveled, its devastation worsened.

The oppressive heat forced the nearest guards to step back with their arms shielding their faces, their skin prickling as if a furnace door had been opened in front of them.

Every meter forward seemed to grow heavier, denser, the air vibrating with lethal promise.

By the time it was halfway to Vonjo, the sphere’s gravity was drawing in loose rubble, dust, and even splinters of broken marble, which began orbiting the blood-red mass like tiny satellites awaiting incineration.

Vonjo stood unflinching, lips curling into a smile that was equal parts arrogance and delight. “Haha! Let me have it!” he roared, his voice cutting through the oppressive hum of energy.

Then, with a sweet, violent sound, the Crimson Doom splattered against his body.

It should have erupted, annihilating everything within a hundred meters. Yet it simply… stopped.

Thick, viscous streams of molten-red energy clung to him, twitching and writhing like living veins, dangling in the air as if uncertain of its next move.

The hall fell into an eerie, unnatural silence broken only by the faint sizzling hiss of energy attempting—and failing—to consume its target.

Eugene’s eyes went wide, and his legs wobbled. His RPG-enhanced vision flared with warning after warning, power levels spiking so high that they were almost meaningless. “T-This…” he whispered to himself, throat dry. “This is… Crimson Doom? I… I can’t… compare it to anything. Nothing should survive that…”

And yet, Vonjo did more than survive. He turned around—casually, like he had all the time in the world, the blood-red streams sliding over his shoulders—and glanced at Eugene.

“Hey, you, kid,” he said, his tone lazy but commanding.

Eugene stuttered, voice breaking. “S-Sir Vonjo?!” He couldn’t believe it. Vonjo wasn’t even looking at the attack. The terrifying sphere, dripping and seeping into him, was ignored like an insect bite.

Vonjo smirked as he spoke, utterly dismissive of the danger behind him. “Tell me, is your teacher Lorthran really… worth my presence?”

The bullet comments detonated like fireworks.

SkyWatcher89: “WAIT. DID HE JUST COMPARE HIMSELF TO LORTHRAN?!”

CasualCultivator: “Oh my god, he turned his back on CRIMSON DOOM. THIS GUY IS INSANE.”

LoreAddict: “He’s asking if Lorthran’s worth his time. Bro. He’s not just confident, he’s SPITTING on the Lightning Emperor’s legacy.”

AuraFarmer420: “No way, he’s the TRUE aura-farming king. Tanking this like nothing???”

DebateMeBro: “Y’all are overhyping. Tanking Vance ≠ Beating Lorthran. Come back to reality.”

PowerScaling101: “Nah. If he beats Vance, with that regeneration and this devour thing? He’s officially top-tier. Dude is built different.”

AntiSpoiler: “STOP TALKING ABOUT NOVEL CANON, I HAVEN’T READ IT YET! I just wanna watch the destruction.”

Eugene swallowed hard, throat clicking audibly. His hands trembled as he pointed toward the shrinking crimson mass. “S-Sir… h-how strong is… that thing…?”

Vonjo didn’t respond immediately.

He simply let the attack continue to seep into him.

The writhing crimson strands melted into his skin, vanishing into the abyss that was his body.

Slowly, piece by piece, the attack that could have wiped out a city block disappeared until the air was still again.

Finally, Vonjo rolled his shoulder and turned his full attention to Vance. “Let him explain,” he said smoothly. His voice filled the hall like a low drumbeat, each syllable a challenge.

Vance was pale now, his earlier bravado shattered. He stumbled back, pointing with a shaking finger. “Y-You… You…!

Vonjo laughed softly, the sound like gravel grinding underfoot. “Looks he won’t be able to do it then,” he began, gesturing with one hand, “Well, how to start from this,” he said as he began pacing widely and confidently.

“Crimsom Doom, uhmm well… is a counter technique. It takes or devours everything given to you—every strike, every curse, every ounce of hate—and turns it into a single, self-righteous explosion. It’s dangerous, yes, but ultimately predictable. That’s why my little brother Vance begged the guards to attack him first. He needed their fuel.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming. “The more fuel he got, the stronger his attack was.”

Eugene’s breath caught in his throat.

“That’s also why the House of Sutterfouse trains in defensive abilities so rigorously,” Vonjo continued, his voice lowering as though sharing a sacred secret. “They believe in the philosophy that endurance is power. Every blow taken, every moment of suffering, only serves to amplify their strength. It’s a brutal cycle, yes, but think about it: the more they endure, the more potent their eventual retaliation.

“Each strike against them is not merely an attack; it’s a building block, a piece of fuel that feeds into their eventual counteroffensive. The Sutterfouse are masters of this art—they stand firm against adversity, transforming pain into resilience, each bruise and every scar a testament to their fortitude.”

He paused for a moment, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “Imagine an entire lineage trained to absorb the worst of what the world throws at them, only to unleash it back tenfold. It’s a relentless cycle, a dance between pain and power.

“That’s the essence of their philosophy. They have learned to embrace suffering, to welcome it, and in doing so, they cultivate a strength that is not just physical but deeply psychological. When they finally strike back, it’s with a ferocity built upon years of enduring hardship.”

Eugene felt a shiver run down his spine as he began to understand the true depth of what Vonjo was saying.

“And you see,” Vonjo added, his eyes narrowing with intensity, “this philosophy aligns perfectly with my own ability—Endless Doom.”

His voice deepened as he explained, almost like a teacher unveiling forbidden knowledge. “My Endless Doom doesn’t hold energy. It devours it—curse attacks, spiritual energy, illusions, even the malice of fallen angels. Once devoured, it becomes mine. I can shape it, wield it, twist it to my will. That’s why his Crimson Doom…” He chuckled. “…felt like an appetizer.”

The bullet chat erupted again, almost hysterical.

WorldBreaker: “HE IS SO OVERPOWERED I’M SCREAMING”

TheoryCrafter: “This isn’t a counter. This is THEFT. He steals everything and makes it his!”

FanboyUnleashed: “I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING BAD I SAID ABOUT HIM. KING VONJO!!”

LorthranLoyalist: “Nope. No way. He’s a monster, but Lorthran still solos.”

ClownEmoji: “Lmao remember when y’all said he was finished? HAHAHA.”

Vance trembled, his jaw locking and unlocking in disbelief. “Y-You… you’re LYING!” His voice cracked into a scream. “There’s no absorbing like that! Our family… we… We endure and not devour, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE YOU HAVE THAT POWER!”

Vonjo tilted his head, the faintest mockery in his gaze. “Believe what you want,” he said softly.

Vance snarled, voice breaking. “Y-You… Are you saying you have Crimson Doom bloodline ability too? You’re lying!”

Vonjo slowly raised one finger. The tip began to glow faintly, an ominous light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The glow spread just enough to paint his face in shades of red of fire and shadow.

“My, my, my, my,” he said eerily, “it seems… my little brother needed to be taught a lesson by his very own older brother.” His words were measured, deliberate, and dripping with menace. “…I’ve been gone for a few years, and I haven’t taught you a lesson for all our lives. Now, it seems I can finally fulfill my role, who now has the power to discipline you.”

He took a step forward, and the air seemed to tighten, the room shrinking under his presence.

A grin split his face, sharp and predatory.

“Would you like to have a taste of it… my little brother?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep