That night, Asher lingered in the Magnus estate only long enough to ensure his mother had fallen asleep peacefully. He stood by her door for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, then turned away. There were matters far greater than family sentiment waiting for him—threats that would not disappear on their own.
Before dawn had fully broken over Volarisa, Asher had already departed. He didn’t bring an escort. He didn’t announce his journey. He simply vanished from the Magnus estate—
—and from the galaxy itself.
A single leap through folded space brought him into Sulbian territory. Here, the void was darker, the stars sharper, as if the very fabric of the galaxy bristled with hostility. His presence was not subtle; the moment he arrived, Sulbian sentry fleets scrambled to intercept.
They never reached him.
One pulse of his will—half a thought—reduced the nearest warship to drifting fragments. The rest wisely kept their distance, their commanders already sending frantic reports ahead.
By the time Asher reached the heart of the Sulbian Empire, his arrival was expected.
The palace was a sprawling citadel of obsidian and silver, floating in the upper atmosphere of their throne world. Guard formations lined every balcony, their soul-imbued eyes watching him warily.
The throne room doors opened without him touching them. Inside, the Sulbian King awaited—a tall, pale figure in robes of shifting gray, his crown like a ring of fractured crystal. His aura was powerful, ancient... but in Asher’s eyes, fragile compared to what he had faced before.
"You stand before the Sovereign of the Sulbians," the King’s voice echoed through the hall. "And you come alone? Do you think yourself above war, stranger?"
"I’m not here for war," Asher replied evenly. "I’m here to give you a choice. Withdraw every agent, every infiltrator, every shadow you’ve placed in Volarisa and the surrounding systems... or I will erase your empire from the star maps before the day ends."
A hush fell over the hall. The Sulbian courtiers looked between one another, some pale, others offended at the audacity.
The King’s lips curved into a cold smile. "Bold. You must think your cultivation is unmatched."
"I don’t think," Asher said, his tone like iron. "I know."
"Hahahaha... it seems only death can make you understand what your mistake was," the King sneered.
But as he looked at Asher, his words faltered. His eyes widened, his breath hitched, and his face drained of color as he felt the crushing pressure.
"S–Star-Forger rank? How... how could you be at this level?" he asked in horror.
Asher’s gaze was calm, almost bored. "Now... will you take back your words, or do I have to kill you all?"
The King sat back in his seat, trembling, and the overwhelming pressure vanished.
The source of this content is Novel~Fire. (n)et
The King leaned forward on his throne. "Do you understand why we expand? Why we embed ourselves in other realms? It is not greed—it is survival. Long before your realm was unified, the Sulbian galaxy faced extinction. A cosmic predator tore through our borders. We destroyed it... but at the cost of our stability. We infiltrate to ensure our enemies cannot rise against us before we recover. If we withdraw completely, we risk collapse."
"That’s your problem," Asher said bluntly. "Not mine. You’ve crossed into my people’s territory. That ends now."
The King’s confident mask faltered. He studied Asher for a long moment before speaking in a quieter tone. "...If we leave Volarisa, will you swear never to set foot in Sulbian space again?"
"I don’t make promises to those who’ve already broken my trust," Asher replied, stepping closer until the King could feel the crushing weight of his aura. "You leave because I said so. Not because we made a deal."
The King’s composure cracked; beads of sweat formed along his brow. Even his personal guards flinched under the invisible pressure. At last, he lowered his head.
"Very well... the Sulbian Empire will withdraw from Volarisa. Immediately."
"Good," Asher said, already turning toward the doors. "Pray I never have to come back."
As the doors shut behind him, the King released a shaky breath. His courtiers whispered among themselves—some in fear, others in anger—but none dared suggest defying the man who had just barged in and threatened them.
"What should we do now, Your Majesty?" a minister asked.
The King’s face was pale. "I... don’t know," he admitted.
"Our chances are already down to fifty-four percent at best," another said urgently. "If we don’t act, we’ll all be dead."
"Stop," the King cut him off sharply. He leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "I have another way to deal with him."
King Sulbian’s gaze sharpened, and a slow, dangerous smile formed. In that moment, it was clear he had just conceived a plan—one that might save the empire... or end his life in the attempt.
He rose from his throne, voice steady but heavy with finality.
"After this, I might not return," he declared. "So I name the Fourth Prince as my successor. If I do not return in ten years, he will take the throne."
Without another word, King Sulbian vanished from the grand hall in a flash of power. His figure reappeared at the farthest reach of the Sulbian Empire’s dominion—where the stars thinned and the dark gulf of the galactic edge yawned before him. There, upon a fractured platform of ancient stone adrift in the void, something stirred in the abyss beyond.
From the lightless expanse, a monstrous silhouette began to rise—vast enough that it seemed the galaxy itself had been shackling it for eons. The space around it warped under its presence. Even without moving, it radiated the crushing pressure of a peak World Rank beast, the kind of existence most civilizations would call an extinction event.
King Sulbian drew upon the full might of his soul core, his gaze locked on the abomination before him. This was no ordinary beast—it was the same calamity that had been devouring their galaxy piece by piece, a predator so vast that star systems vanished into its maw like crumbs.