Novel Full Chapter 2092: A very lucky monster
Chapter 2092: A very lucky monster
"Bait?"
Cain’s eyes sharpened, his muscles tense as he glanced toward the mangled corpse of Osiris. The revelation sank like ice into his veins. Someone had seen through his veil. Someone had noticed the pattern in his killings, despite his careful measures to erase every trace of his presence.
In the Second Realm, he had operated freely, hunting and vanishing before anyone could react. But this was the Third Realm—a place where only cunning monsters survived. Strength alone was never enough here.
The fact that an enemy had pieced together his movements was troubling, but what disturbed him more was how.
"How did you know I’d come here?" Cain asked, his voice level. He doubted the masked creature would answer, yet it was worth trying.
To his mild surprise, Black Mask inclined his head slightly, as if humoring him. The voice that emerged from behind the featureless mask was calm, smooth, and ancient, carrying the kind of weight that came from millennia of control.
"It was luck," he said simply.
Cain’s frown deepened.
Black Mask chuckled softly, enjoying his confusion. "I could sense your trail of power rising after each kill. You were evolving—hunting stronger prey. I guessed you’d soon go after one of the Peak Archdeities. Three of them were traveling the landmass, separated from reinforcements. So pick one, and I waited. I hid here, watching as Osiris’s group crossed paths with the Life Path’s forces. And then..." He gestured toward the ruins and the dead ArchDeity. "You appeared. So, yes—luck. But I am a very lucky man."
Cain’s fists clenched. The explanation was infuriating precisely because it made sense. No grand scheme, no prophetic foresight—just a predator waiting at the right place, at the right time.
As for why Black Mask hadn’t intervened to help Osiris, the reason was obvious. Osiris had been doomed from the first strike. Better to let Cain burn himself out, then strike when his strength was depleted.
Black Mask hadn’t just baited him—he’d used Osiris as a disposable offering.
"I need to escape." The thought came with cold clarity. Cain was drained; the battle against Osiris had emptied nearly all his reserves. Fighting another Peak ArchDeity now—especially one rumored to stand at the threshold of Alpha–Omega power—would be suicide.
Without another word, he turned and vanished, launching himself toward the horizon in a trail of red plasma.
Black Mask watched him go but didn’t move. Instead, he smiled beneath the obsidian mask.
He extended a hand.
The ground ahead of Cain shuddered violently. A moment later, the entire landscape convulsed as a massive tendril of corrupted matter erupted skyward. It coiled like a living pillar, reaching toward the clouds. Then, with a sound like thunder tearing through metal, it whipped downward.
The air imploded.
Cain barely had time to raise Sky Devourer, using the sword as a shield. The impact struck him like the fist of a god, flinging him back through the ruins. He crashed into a wall of shattered stone, skidding across the ground before forcing himself upright, his chest heaving.
The air shimmered again. Around him, dozens of massive pillars rose from the earth, forming a circular barrier that sealed the entire city in a crimson-black cage.
He was trapped.
"I may have relied on luck to find you," Black Mask said, voice echoing across the enclosed battlefield, "but I made certain that if a battle did occur, there would be no escape."
He ascended slowly, hovering in the air like a dark angel of entropy. The tendrils writhing from his back trembled with excitement, their tips splitting into spearheads that dripped molten corruption.
"Now," he said softly, "let’s begin."
And then he moved.
The world seemed to blur. One heartbeat, he was distant; the next, he was in front of Cain, his tendrils twisting into dozens of razor-sharp spears that filled the sky.
Cain’s body screamed for rest, but his mind adapted instantly. If he couldn’t flee, he would kill.
The Imperium Dream flared across his soul, devouring ambient energy, turning chaos into power. The Oniric Truth of Gluttony fused with the Crimson World Matrix, channeling fragments of its power. His aura turned gold and scarlet, splitting the air with divine pressure.
Sky Devourer ignited in his hands, wreathed in flames that whispered of death and hunger. Cain surged forward to meet the onslaught.
The corrupted spears descended like a storm. Cain weaved between them, every movement a blur of precision. Sparks and dark fire erupted as steel met abomination. In a heartbeat, he broke through, coming face-to-face with his masked foe.
"Die." The Neo-Demon swung, and Sky Devourer fell like a guillotine, the weight of a collapsing star behind its edge.
But Black Mask faced it head-on.
His right arm morphed into a massive metallic claw of copper and void-matter, catching the blade in a screech of distortion.
"BOOOOOOOOM!"
The collision unleashed a cataclysmic shockwave. The ground split apart, the sky flared with fire, and the entire ruin trembled as sword and claw struggled for dominance. The life force within Black Mask’s weaponized limb began to unravel under Imperium’s bloodline force, its essence bleeding away like vapor.
Yet he didn’t flinch.
His left hand morphed next, transforming into a cannon of shifting metal and shadow. Before Cain could react, Black Mask struck point-blank.
The blast hit like a comet.
Cain’s body was hurled backward, crashing through layers of broken architecture. The blow carried more than raw power—it pulsed with corrosive psychic energy, burrowing into his spirit, trying to tear through his soul dimension.
Pain flared white across his vision. Only the strength of his True Name kept his consciousness from shattering.
He tried to regain control, but his limbs refused to obey.
Black Mask was already there, crossing the distance in an instant. The tendrils on his back coiled and merged, forming two colossal hands of blackened matter.
They rose together—then clapped.
The air screamed as the makeshift hammer descended, aiming to crush him utterly.
Cain clenched his teeth, forcing his battered body to move, but it wasn’t fast enough. The shadow of death loomed above him—
And then the world sang.
A piercing sound, sharp and crystalline, sliced through the battlefield.
Black Mask froze mid-strike, as he felt a sharp pain in his chest, before being blasted back, rolling through the air while puking mouthfuls of blood that dripped below his obsidian mask.