Chapter 220: Spacewarp attack 2
He stood alone amid the ruin he had made.
The forest seemed to breathe around him, smoke curling lazily from the blackened earth, ash drifting down from scorched leaves. The air smelled heavy, a mix of burned flesh, iron, and charred wood. Everything was quiet, but the silence pressed down like a weight, carrying the echoes of what had just happened.
Jae’s red eyes swept over the clearing, taking in every detail, the bodies, the scorched trees, the deep gouges in the ground where flames and force had met resistance.
A rustle broke the stillness. Byun’s shadows appeared first, weaving between trees like living threads before retreating back into his control. The movements were precise, almost cautious, as though they were feeling out the area, checking that nothing was left to strike unexpectedly.
Behind him, Elise and Tirel emerged, both flushed and disheveled. Their hair clung to damp skin, and their clothing had been torn and dirtied in the struggle to break through the magical displacement that had separated them.
They froze when they stepped fully into the clearing.
Bodies lay scattered like broken dolls, limbs twisted in unnatural angles, clothing shredded, faces frozen in the last instant of shock or terror. The forest floor was scarred with deep burns, grooves and trenches carved from Jae’s strikes, each step leaving blackened dirt and smoldering ash.
Trees were split, charred bark peeling and hanging like dark ribbons. Smoke hung in the air, thick and heavy, curling into their hair, clinging to their lungs.
Byun’s eyes widened. "...You did all this?"
Jae shrugged, his stance relaxed despite the devastation around him. The Dragonfire Blade had faded, returning to nothing more than the memory of heat in his hand. Sparks still seemed to drift faintly off his fingers as if the residue of the fire refused to leave entirely.
"They picked the wrong target," he said calmly, his voice low, almost casual. There was no gloating, no anger. Only certainty.
Elise pressed a trembling hand over her mouth. She had seen Jae fight before, had watched him cut through shadowspawn and strange creatures, but this was different. These weren’t mindless beasts.
These were men. And Jae had cut them down with the same calm, precise motions, with the same unshaken focus he brought to every battle. There was no hesitation. No mercy. And it unsettled her more than she expected.
Tirel whistled low, her usual teasing tone struggling to mask the edge of unease. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, hero," she said, forcing the words out, trying to lighten the moment.
But her smirk faltered as she studied him. Jae didn’t respond with his usual sharp quip or teasing grin. He just stood there, calm and still, his expression distant, as if the devastation surrounding him carried no weight at all.
Elise finally stepped forward, voice trembling slightly. "Jae... are you alright?"
He glanced at her briefly, red eyes softening for the fraction of a second before flicking back over the field. His lips curved faintly into a smirk. "I’m fine. They’re not," he said simply.
The answer didn’t reassure anyone.
Byun crouched next to one of the bodies, fingers hovering just above the burn marks. He shook his head slowly. "These wounds..." He exhaled, rising again with a quiet clatter of boots against the scorched soil. "No ordinary academy student could’ve done this. Not even most teachers could." His voice was calm, but the weight of disbelief lingered in his tone.
Elise’s gaze flicked from Jae to the bodies, dry throat tightening. "How did you?"
"Does it matter?" Jae cut her off, tone sharp but not raised. He stepped past her, scanning the clearing. "They wanted me dead. They’re gone. Move on."
Silence stretched across the forest. No one argued, no one moved forward immediately. But the air was heavy with unspoken questions.
How had Jae grown so strong, so fast? How could one person dismantle nearly twenty trained mercenaries with nothing more than his blade and a few abilities? And the larger question, what was he becoming?
Byun was the first to break the silence. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well. At least you’re alive. That’s something," he said lightly, but his eyes lingered on Jae longer than necessary, suspicion sharpening beneath the casual mask. He didn’t speak the words aloud, but they were clear: this power was unnatural.
Tirel forced a grin, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Alive, and scary. Seriously, though, thank heavens we’re on the same team because I feel safer with you than against you." Her voice carried that same teasing quality, but it was underscored with a nervous edge.
Elise didn’t speak, but she kept close, her hands faintly glowing as she checked him for any injuries. To her shock, there were none, not even scratches. Not even the faintest sign of weariness from a fight that had shredded the forest around them. His body looked untouched, as if he had simply walked through a rehearsal rather than a brutal, life-or-death battle.
"You shouldn’t... you shouldn’t be standing so easily," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "Even if you won, this should’ve left marks. You should feel it."
Jae smirked faintly, brushing a hand through his hair in that habitual gesture, and began walking past the bodies. His stride was calm, measured, and unhurried. "Don’t just stand there. We’ve got a trial to finish," he said. The words were simple, casual, almost teasing, but there was an edge to them, a quiet authority that left no room for argument.
The others exchanged looks behind his back. Admiration, yes. Fear, definitely. Doubt, lurking beneath the surface. None of them spoke aloud the thought that had formed in the pit of their stomachs.
But it was there.
Jae’s strength was beginning to look less human.
And that realization weighed heavier than the bodies, heavier than the smoke, heavier than the scorched earth around them.
It settled over them in the quiet, a truth none of them could ignore. His calm, his smirk, the way he moved through death as if it were a simple obstacle, it was unnerving. And it left them wondering silently how far he could go before even he became untouchable, or unstoppable.
And that unsettled them more than any mercenary could.