A few minutes earlier…
The old man, cloaked once again in his tattered white fabric, shuffled away without a word, ignoring Lucas as if he were just air.
Lucas watched him go, but then…
He felt it.
A creeping sensation. Like invisible eyes, cold and unblinking, fixed on his back.
His gaze shifted sharply to the right.
There, half-hidden behind the dark silhouette of a small, blackened village house, stood a child.
A boy.
Silent. Still. Staring straight at Lucas with an intensity that gnawed at the edges of comfort.
The boy's body was hairless — smooth and pale.
Unlike the withered villagers Lucas had seen earlier, this boy looked healthy. His frame was small, but strong.
He wore nothing, not even a cloak like the others, but that was normal in this strange Quest World where no living being had reproductive organs. It was just… how things were here.
Lucas stepped forward, cautious but firm, closing the distance between them.
He crouched down to meet the boy at eye level.
"What's wrong?" Lucas asked, his voice calm. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
The boy, several heads shorter than Lucas, blinked.
His skin, pale as moonlight, seemed to glow faintly under the dim sky. His eyes — a piercing shade of blue — held a strange clarity, far sharper than any other villager's.
"Who are you?" the boy asked. His voice was soft but distinctly male. Curious, almost hopeful.
Lucas exhaled slowly and offered a faint smile.
"An adventurer," he answered.
The boy's brows knitted slightly. "Adventurer?"
Lucas nodded.
"In simple words, we're the people who come to this world to kill monsters and bad people, so that you folks can live your lives in peace."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them.
But then —
Something changed.
The boy's blue eyes lit up.
Like a spark igniting deep inside. A fragile but unmistakable light of hope.
"Will you help us too?" the boy asked, stepping closer.
His voice trembled slightly, as though the very act of asking was dangerous. "Will you help people like us?"
Lucas's smile deepened, a little softer this time.
"Yeah," he said. "Of course. I'll help you."
But before the boy could respond, before he could even take a breath, a new voice shattered the moment.
A voice low, heavy, and dripping with cruel amusement.
It echoed across the empty street like a rusted blade scraping stone.
"Oh… so you worthless pests have forgotten your place."
The voice grew louder, closer.
"And now you've brought someone to save you? Hah. There will be no forgiveness."
Lucas stiffened. His muscles tensed as he rose to his feet, eyes narrowing.
"Now I'll show you," the voice sneered, its tone twisting into something dark and hungry, "what real torture feels like."
Lucas lifted his gaze upward — and his breath hitched.
Above him loomed a massive figure, blocking out chunks of the ashen sky.
A crimson dragon.
An eastern one — long and serpentine, its scales gleaming like liquid rubies under the dull light.
Its eyes, twin golden orbs, glowed with a cold, almost divine intensity as they scanned the village below.
Seated atop its broad back was a boy.
Maybe seventeen years old.
Clad in the unmistakable black-and-white robes of a seminarian, the boy sat with effortless poise — calm, collected, and radiating an aura that sent a chill down Lucas's spine.
His long brown hair, windswept and wild, danced around his face, while his brown eyes, deep and sharp, locked onto Lucas with a predator's focus.
His skin was a shade darker than most, and his physique was... impressive.
Lean but muscular, every inch of him looked like it was carved for battle.
And yet, the way he sat — casual, cool, almost lazy — made it clear he wasn't even trying yet.
Down below, the villagers broke.
They fell where they stood.
Some collapsed in wracking sobs, their bodies shaking uncontrollably as they wept openly.
Others dropped to their knees, slamming their foreheads against the cracked earth in a desperate, pitiful display of submission.
"Forgive us!"
"Please!"
"Mercy!"
But the dragon's golden eyes did not waver.
Its massive jaws opened wide — and from deep within, a violent glow gathered.
Then, it roared.
A torrent of crimson flames erupted from its maw, a tidal wave of burning death, aimed straight for the village.
The fire painted the sky red, turning the world into a living nightmare.
But before the flames could touch down—
Lucas moved.
In an instant, his entire body shimmered, breaking apart into a crackling storm of violet bolts.
The world blurred. The ground, the sky, the screaming — all vanished for a heartbeat.
And then—
He reappeared.
Right between the falling flames and the helpless villagers.
His form solidified again, his feet hovering inches above the ground as violet sparks danced wildly around his body.
His right hand shot forward, palm open, fingers spread wide.
From it, arcs of purple energy flared, creating an invisible shield that crackled like thunder.
The crimson flames met his hand — and shattered.
The fire split apart, bending unnaturally to either side, diverted by Lucas's Wrath.
Flaming tongues scattered into the air, missing the village entirely and vanishing into the barren fields beyond.
Above, the boy on the dragon moved.
He stood, rising from his seated stance, his gaze now fully locked onto Lucas.
His eyes narrowed — not in anger, but in interest.
Amusement, even.
Lucas floated there, suspended by the pulsing force of his Wrath, as violet energy coiled around him like living lightning.
The air between them grew heavier, crackling with tension.
Neither spoke.
Neither blinked.
And then—
The boy moved.
With a casual grace, he leapt from the dragon's back.
His body arced smoothly through the air before landing on the ground with a soft thud — a movement so light it almost made no sound, despite his size.
His brown eyes never left Lucas.
Meanwhile, from the shadows behind the blackened house, the strange child — the hairless boy with blue eyes — watched it all unfold in silence.
His small hands gripped the edge of the wall, his chest rising and falling with shallow, rapid breaths.
Lucas, too, lowered himself, his feet touching the earth once more.
He stood tall, muscles tense, ready for whatever came next.
The air between them simmered.
Both men, locked in a wordless standoff, as the crimson dragon above coiled and hissed.
"Rudeus Arclight."
The boy with the long brown hair spoke, his voice steady and clear, cutting through the heavy air like a blade.
He tilted his head slightly, his golden-brown eyes burning with quiet malice.
"Remember that name," he continued, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Because it's the name you'll be crying out when I end you."
Lucas's violet sparks crackled brighter.
He stood firm, unfazed, meeting that gaze without flinching.
"Lucas Halt," he said, voice low but sharp as iron. "No need to remember it.
Because the one who's dying only recalls the best moments of his life… while I—"
He leaned forward, the energy swirling around him intensifying.
"I'll be your nightmare.
Not someone you remember—someone you can't escape."
For a moment, there was silence.
And then—
Rudeus laughed.
A loud, booming laugh that echoed through the broken village.
It was sharp, almost unhinged.
"I like your attitude," he grinned wide, teeth flashing.
And then, the world stopped.
Time itself cracked.
Lucas's vision blurred as everything around him froze — the air, the dust, even the faint flicker of flame from the distant ruins.
He couldn't move.
Couldn't even blink.
And in that stillness, something heavy smashed against his cheek.
The impact detonated through his skull, and then—
Crash!
Lucas's body flew backward like a ragdoll, slamming through the wooden frame of a small house behind him.
The structure crumbled on impact, collapsing in a heap of splinters and dust.
But Lucas wasn't broken.
Even before the strike landed, his instincts had flared — Wrath surging over his body in a protective layer.
The violet energy had absorbed the worst of it, keeping his bones intact.
But the force…
The force still rattled his brain.
Lucas groaned and pushed himself to his feet, violet sparks hissing from his skin.
His left hand rose to his face, fingers brushing over his stinging cheek.
The spot throbbed where Rudeus had hit him.
Heavy.
Too heavy for a normal human.
He didn't have time to recover.
Because suddenly—
Time froze again.
Lucas's senses screamed, but his body wouldn't listen.
Everything stood still.
Everything but him—and Rudeus.
When time snapped back into motion—
A second blow connected.
Right under his chin.
Boom!
Pain exploded through Lucas's jaw, and his body was launched skyward, flipping end over end as the world spun around him.
His vision blurred, stars bursting across his sight as he soared helplessly.
His chin throbbed like it had been shattered.
But Lucas gritted his teeth, forcing the pain down.
Midair, he clenched his fists — and his Wrath answered.
The violet storm wrapped around him like wings, breaking his fall.
He twisted midair, body steadying, and then shot downward in a controlled descent, slamming into the ground feet-first in a burst of sparks.
Lucas exhaled sharply, sweat rolling down his temple.
His mind raced.
That was no simple speed.
Rudeus wasn't just fast—he was breaking the rules of movement.
Freezing time, even for a split second.
Lucas's eyes narrowed as his Wrath coiled tighter around him.
He'd figured it out.
He knew what kind of monster he was dealing with now.
Rudeus grinned and lifted his hand.
The air warped.
The world shuddered.
Time itself cracked again, freezing everything in place—
Or so he thought.
Because right before the stillness could swallow everything, a faint glow flickered in Lucas's right hand.
It pulsed—soft but defiant—breaking through the suffocating grip of frozen time.
And as Rudeus blurred forward, ready to slam his fist into Lucas's skull—
Lucas moved.
His body shifted, slipping out of the locked moment like a shadow through light.
His figure vanished from in front of Rudeus and appeared behind him in a perfect arc.
And in his hands, gleaming with deadly promise, was his weapon—
the Ghost Guan Dao.
With a sharp cry, Lucas swung the massive blade sideways, its broad surface smashing directly into Rudeus's exposed back.
CRACK—!
The impact echoed like a thunderclap.
Rudeus's body folded forward as the force launched him across the street.
He crashed spine-first through the wooden walls of a house, demolishing it in a shower of splinters.
The house collapsed on top of him, dust and debris clouding the air.
Time resumed its flow.
Everything snapped back to life—the wind, the distant flames, the terrified villagers' cries.
But Rudeus lay in the rubble, groaning.
His body trembled from the blow.
He pushed himself up, face twisted in confusion and rage.
Blood trickled from his lips.
His golden-brown eyes flickered in disbelief.
"How…?" he rasped, spitting to the side.
"How did you nullify my power? No one… no one can move inside my time stop!"
Lucas stepped forward, his violet sparks crackling softly around him.
He planted the shaft of his Guan Dao into the ground and pointed the blade at Rudeus.
"This weapon is called Ghost Guan Dao," Lucas said, voice calm but heavy.
"Maybe you didn't know, but ghosts… they're considered an unnatural entity. They don't play by the rules of nature."
He raised his weapon slightly.
"Your time stop? That's nature's law at its peak. But my Guan Dao? It has a passive skill—
It cancels out any effect tied to nature's power.
As long as I hold this weapon…
your time stop can't touch me.
It never will."
For a moment, Rudeus's face went blank.
And then—
His expression twisted into pure fury.
His teeth clenched, his muscles tensed.
It was like watching a predator denied its prey.
"Tch…!"
He clicked his tongue in frustration, breath ragged.
"You think you've won?"
Rudeus lifted his arm and barked a sharp command.
The massive crimson dragon above roared in answer, golden eyes flashing as it reared back.
Its jaws opened wide—
and crimson flames began to churn, gathering at its throat.
At the same moment, Rudeus lunged forward, sprinting at Lucas like a maddened beast.
Lucas's eyes narrowed.
His Wrath flared—
and in a flash of violet light, he vanished from his spot.
Rudeus's fist swung through empty air.
His eyes widened—
and then snapped upward just in time to see Lucas appear above the dragon's head, airborne.
"Tch—!"
Lucas gripped his Guan Dao tight, his body spinning midair.
With a powerful swing, he brought the broad flat of the blade crashing down on the dragon's skull.
BOOM—!
The impact was earth-shattering.
The dragon's flames choked in its throat, snuffed out before they could be unleashed.
Its head snapped downward—
and the massive beast collapsed from the sky like a falling mountain.
THUD—!
Its gigantic body slammed into the earth, flattening half the village under its weight.
The ground quaked, dust and debris thrown into the sky.
Its tail and wings sprawled out, covering more area than the buildings themselves.
Lucas landed lightly on the ground, violet sparks flickering at his heels.
Rudeus, still charging, let out a roar and came straight at him.
But Lucas was already moving.
His eyes glinted coldly.
He dashed forward, meeting Rudeus head-on.
Their clash happened in an instant—
Lucas spun his Guan Dao in a wide arc, aiming low.
SWISH—!
The blade's gleaming edge cut through the air with deadly precision.
SLASH—!
It connected—
clean and brutal.
Rudeus's body stiffened.
A line of crimson sprayed into the air.
His torso—
split cleanly across the waist, his body severed in two as the horizontal strike cut through bone and flesh alike.
His top half toppled backward, crashing into the dirt, while his legs collapsed in the opposite direction.
Blood poured from the wound, pooling fast.
The world went silent.
For a heartbeat, it seemed like Rudeus Arclight—the terror of time—was dead.
But then—
his fingers twitched.
His chest heaved.
A ragged breath escaped his lips.
"Ghhhaaa…"
His severed upper body writhed in the blood-soaked ground.
His golden eyes, now dimmer but still burning, glared at Lucas with raw hatred.
"You…"
Lucas exhaled, spinning his Guan Dao once before resting it against his shoulder.
He stepped forward, his violet aura swirling ominously.
But he didn't lower his guard.
Not yet.
Because someone like Rudeus didn't die easily.
And Lucas could feel it—
the twisted energy still pulsing inside that broken body.
This wasn't over.