Chapter 12: Monarch of Swords

The instant the heavy iron shackles clattered against the stone floor, the Abomination didn’t pause to process why its prey had freed it.

Driven purely by bloodthirsty instinct, the grey-eyed beast lunged.

It covered the distance between them in a fraction of a second, leaving a blur of dark fur in its wake.

Appearing directly before Craig, the creature brought down its massive, razor-sharp claws in a lethal arc, aiming to tear the young lord’s head cleanly off his shoulders.

Craig reacted purely on impulse.

Having not yet gauged the explosive physical output granted by his newly awakened Divine Draconic Physique, he pushed off the ground with all his strength to evade the swipe.

BOOM!

Instead of a graceful dodge, Craig’s body launched across the cell like a crimson cannonball.

He blurred past the creature’s claws and slammed shoulder-first directly into the heavy reinforced granite wall on the far side of the room.

The impact cracked the stone, sending a cloud of dust and loose gravel cascading down onto his shoulders.

"Ugh..." Craig groaned, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the wall.

He stared at his own hands, utterly stunned by his own speed.

He had never expected that simply trying to side-step an attack would cause him to smash into a wall like a runaway warhorse.

Then, a low, quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

The chuckle quickly swelled into a breathless, exhilarated laugh.

"This physique is absurd..." Craig muttered, his golden eyes burning bright as he tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

He gripped the hilt until his knuckles turned white.

Although his primary goal was to slaughter this beast to settle an old grudge, this dark, isolated dungeon was also the perfect proving ground.

Out here, deep beneath the earth, he could test his true limits without revealing his secrets to the outside world.

He had awakened four Special-Grade Talents before even attending his Dragon’s Calling Ceremony.

He was beyond overpowered.

If the other successors of the Darkstar Duchy, or worse, the rival great families across the Western Continent ever caught wind of what resided inside his core, they wouldn’t just try to recruit him.

They would dispatch armies of Sword Masters and high-stage Rankers to exterminate him before he could grow into an unkillable god.

GROWL!

The subterranean air trembled as the three-horned feline beast whirled around, its grey eyes wild with rage.

The Demon of Speed was living up to its future title.

Despite its massive frame compared to Craig’s fifteen-year-old body, its movements were fluid, swift, and terrifyingly precise.

Dark, tainted clouds of concentrated abyssal mana laced its claws, sizzling like acid against the stone floor.

It crouched, its hind legs flexing, and charged once more.

It lunged at Craig with relentless ferocity, bringing both claws down in a cross-shaped pattern designed to trap him against the cracked wall and shred him into fine ribbons.

There was no space left to dodge.

Craig raised his longsword to parry, and in that split second, the world around him seemed to grind to a absolute halt.

The air pressure, the trajectory of the beast’s claws, the subtle shifting of its muscles, the flow of its abyssal mana—everything became crystal clear.

Craig didn’t need to analyze the incoming attack.

He didn’t need to think, calculate, or formulate a counter-strategy.

His body simply knew what to do.

This was the passive authority of his Special-Grade Talent:

Monarch of Swords.

BANG!

The Demon of Speed’s dark claws struck the granite wall with catastrophic force, shattering the reinforced stone into a shower of dangerous shrapnel.

Yet, Craig was no longer standing there.

"ROAR—GYAH!"

The Abomination suddenly winced, letting out a horrific, ear-splitting shriek as deep, agonizing gashes burst open across every inch of its grey hide.

Blood—thick, black, and foul—spurted violently from its shoulders, ribcage, legs, and throat, painting the cell walls in dark crimson.

Without breaking a sweat, Craig had hijacked the beast’s own forward momentum.

In the single millisecond it took for the monster to swing its claws, Craig had fluidly stepped through its defense, seeing through more than ten distinct structural weak points in its posture.

He had sliced through the Abomination in ten different ways before stepping behind it, his blade moving so fast that the cuts only registered on the monster’s flesh after he had already completed the arc.

Craig stood three paces behind the shrieking beast, his sword held low, completely frozen in shock.

Even he couldn’t believe what he had just executed.

In his past life, Craig had clawed his way up to the rank of Sword Grandmaster through sheer, brutal perseverance.

He had considered himself a master of the blade, a veteran who understood every nuance of martial combat.

But this? This was entirely different.

It was as if an immortal sword deity had spent ten thousand years in isolation, perfecting every blade art in existence, and then fused that supreme enlightenment directly into Craig’s muscle memory.

He didn’t just wield the sword—he was the ruler of all steel.

"This is... just too good!" Craig couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. Brimming with dark, pure joy, he let his guard down for a single breath.

SWOOSH!

Blinded by agony and primal instinct, the Demon of Speed ignored its bleeding wounds.

It used its innate trait, vanishing from its spot and instantly spawning right in front of Craig’s face! It brought its massive, heavy right paw down like a falling mountain, determined to crush the laughing youth into paste.

Craig’s laughter stopped, but his expression didn’t flicker with a shred of panic.

He didn’t even raise his blade to block.

He simply shifted his weight, his frame blurring as he stepped sideways through space.

FLASH!

Craig reappeared directly behind the beast once again.

But this time, he didn’t just leave shallow cuts.

SLASH!

A clean, silver arc flashed through the torchlight.

"GROOOAAARGH!"

The Abomination shrieked in agony as its entire front right leg was severed cleanly at the shoulder joint.

The massive, clawed limb crashed onto the stone floor, spraying black blood everywhere as the monster tumbled sideways, losing its balance.

Desperate, frantic, and dying, the three-horned beast thrashed on the ground.

It used its remaining limbs to force itself up, turning its bloody jaws toward Craig for one final, suicidal charge.

Craig watched the crippled monster approach in absolute silence.

He drew a deep, slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his longsword.

At the base of his palm, a warm, tingling sensation ignited.

He began to draw raw energy straight out of his newly formed core, funneling the refined crimson energy down his arms and flooding it into the steel blade.

The polished metal began to hum, vibrating violently as a dense aura of crimson fire wrapped around the length of the sword.

The memories of his past life burned vividly behind his eyes.

He remembered the endless nights he had spent practicing the supreme combat manuals after he had conquered the West and ascended as the Archduke.

He remembered the exact formula, the precise mana flow, and the devastating weight of the highest martial arts reserved exclusively for the Darkstar bloodline.

He was going to use one now.

The Demon of Speed closed the remaining distance, its bared fangs inches from Craig’s face.

Craig’s golden eyes flickered with a cold, terrifying light.

"Void Sword Dragon’s Art," Craig chanted softly, his voice echoing with absolute authority.

The crimson mana wrapping his blade suddenly condensed into a jet-black, suffocating aura that swallowed the surrounding light.

"1st Form: Tempest Space Cleaver."

Craig executed a single, smooth horizontal slash.

—

For a fraction of a second, the sound in the subterranean cell vanished entirely.

The space between Craig and the beast seemed to warp, distorting like a shattered mirror.

Then, time snapped back into motion.

The Demon of Speed froze mid-air.

It didn’t scream. It didn’t roar.

A grid of fine, glowing crimson lines suddenly expanded across the creature’s entire body.

A millisecond later, the monster’s massive frame collapsed inward, disintegrating as it was cleanly bisected and sliced into a thousand neat, uniform pieces of flesh and bone.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

A shower of meat and black blood rained down onto the stone floor, completely covering the interior of the cell.

In the center of the bloody carnage, Craig stood completely untouched, holding his longsword.

A single flick of his wrist sent the blood clinging to his blade flying onto the ground, leaving the steel spotless and gleaming under the torchlight.

He slowly sheathed his sword, looking down at the pile of remains with a cold, satisfied smile.

"That settles that score," Craig whispered.