Chapter 292: True Anomaly

As twisted as it sounded, being sent toward the Titan had a certain degree of luck. After all, the alternative was to either drift through outer space, lost and untraceable, or be overwhelmed by the Ro’trah minions and become their food.

Michael’s eyes needed a few seconds to adjust after the intense force he had just withstood.

After a brief moment, he realized he had landed on the Titan’s body. Though the creature was still alive, it was too focused on evading the Emperor and the faction leaders, who were searching for it in the middle of the swarm, to pay him any attention.

The alien’s form was colossal, surpassing the size of the warship. Had he not known better, he would have assumed an entire ecosystem had begun to form on the surface of the creature’s skin.

Although the stench was unbearable, the Titan’s presence was suffocating, and black blood poured from its wounds like rivers… At least he was safe from the minions, as none dared venture too close to their queen. Unless directed otherwise.

“What happened?” Michael groaned, placing a hand over his bleeding chest. For some reason, Warlock didn’t seem to detect the injury and fuel him with power as it should have under normal circumstances.

He remembered seeing Victoria knocked unconscious, then he was stabbed and kicked toward the Titan.

Who was the hooded figure? How had that person evaded his senses, and why had they targeted Victoria?

A searing pain assaulted his body. This was clearly no ordinary wound. It wasn’t just his physical body suffering. His soul was affected as well. Alarmingly, the spiritual energy stored within him began to leak out against his will, like a wound that couldn’t be sealed.

His physique numbed, his senses dulled, and a thick fog descended over his mind. Whoever had struck him knew exactly what they were doing.

Slowly, Michael’s face twisted into a grimace. Memories from his past life resurfacing.

“Malice…”

The name of the so-called most loyal subject of the Emperor, a nuisance to be dealt with, came to mind. The Emperor’s right-hand man was the only one capable of this.

But why had he targeted Michael? He had been careful not to provoke the Emperor recklessly.

’I must have overlooked something… but what?’

As his mind raced to make sense of it, a threatening voice echoed, catching him by surprise.

“You know my name? Impossible… Only those who have defeated me in the past have the honor of knowing it… You are indeed too dangerous to be kept alive.”

With a curse, Michael rose to his feet. His unfocused eyes shifted to a smiling man who carried Victoria’s unconscious body with one hand.

Of all the enemies Michael could face, Malice was the most unpredictable. So much so that coming up with an adequate plan to confront him was virtually impossible.

For Malice wasn’t even a cultivator… he was a mortal, one who relied on treasures to enhance his power.

“You can still stand? Impressive!” Malice laughed, stepping forward, the necklaces he wore changing color.

The man relied mainly on two treasures… both of the Mythic rank.

His necklace could either allow spiritual energy to pass through him, evading detection by any cultivator, or it could push the energy outward, creating a true void that kept the very essence cultivators relied on at bay.

Michael remained unamused. “Why… are you here?”

Malice crept closer.

“Why? To ensure my kill, of course. Am I supposed to be like those generic villains that injure the so-called main characters, only to leave them half-dead, and give them the option for a comeback in the future?”

The man pointed his dagger at Michael.

“Fuck no! Until I see your eyes growing cold, I will not be satisfied!”

Michael’s eyes darkened. He knew that even though the necklace the man wore could push spiritual energy outward, it was only half of the equation.

The other half was his Mythic dagger. Should it even graze the body of a cultivator, it would forcibly drain their spiritual energy.

When the two treasures were combined, they granted mortals the power to render even the strongest cultivator powerless, draining every trace of spiritual energy from their body.

“You are nothing more than the Emperor’s dog.” Michael stated, barely holding onto Devil’s Tongue.

With an arrogant snort, Malice struck.

Michael’s weakened body couldn’t withstand the blow. The world blurred as he was sent skidding across the alien’s body, his grip faltering. Devil’s Tongue slipped from his grasp and vanished into the Titan’s blood, which had begun to seep from the wounds inflicted by the faction leaders.

Sadly, with his spiritual energy drained, Michael couldn’t use Psychokinesis to retrieve his weapon. Yet, despite that, he struggled to his feet.

“I don’t care why you’ve targeted me, nor why you seem keen on kidnapping Victoria… But you will not take her from me.”

Malice raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Is that so?”

Of course, while the man possessed two Mythic treasures, they didn’t explain his overwhelming power. What allowed him to move like a cultivator were the numerous bio-augments injected into his body, which enhanced his physical capabilities, while he himself didn’t possess spiritual energy.

This also explained his loyalty to the Emperor. A side effect of the bio-augments was that if the Emperor didn’t tune them regularly with his blood manipulation, they were going to kill Malice.

Although the Emperor’s children could use the family technique, it was only him who possessed true mastery over it, which was able to keep Malice alive.

Truly a dog on a leash. The Emperor had equipped Malice with enough firepower to assassinate anyone… the Emperor himself included. Yet, Malice was still ultimately bound to his master’s will, lest he want to spell his demise.

Malice’s lack of true freedom was what made him feel deep disdain for Michael.

“Let me tell you something…” The man mocked, sending Michael to the ground once more.

“You had a good run. Perhaps the best one… but you flew too close to the sun.”

Malice crouched down to Michael’s level.

“I am an anomaly, the natural predator of your kind. Believe me, many have tried, but no plan or weapon has or shall ever prosper against me.”

“…”

Michael didn’t respond… The last ounce of his focus was directed to a notification that had abruptly appeared before his blurry vision.

—evolved!]

A faint smile curled on his lips as he lost consciousness.

Malice sighed.

“Certainly better than expected, but in the end, you still fell short.”

With a cruel grin, the man raised his dagger, ready to end Michael’s life for good.

However, just as he was about to drive the blade, a chill ran down his spine, halting him in place.

A ragged male voice rang out from behind him.

“So this is what it means to be a Mythic…”

“!!!”

Alarmed, Malice turned. He couldn’t sense anything! There wasn’t a living being in the world capable of evading his senses!

His heart froze a second later. What stood before him was no alien… but it was no human, either.

A humanoid creature, two and a half meters tall, loomed over the surroundings, a muscular frame covered in rough crimson skin, veins bulging with black blood underneath. Two grotesquely long arms that reached the ground, ending in claws sharper than any sword.

Its singular black pupil fixated on its right claw in utter delight.

“Devil’s Tongue… is no longer a name that suits me.”

The creature’s menacing grin stretched impossibly wide, its piercing gaze shifting toward Malice.

“Devil will suffice.”

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