Yet no matter how intensely Kaiser concentrated, no matter how keenly his senses reached out, he found himself unable to locate the strange, humanoid monster within the house, much less within the very room where he now stood. Frustration tinged with unease gnawed quietly at his mind. This was different from facing Chaos, whose overwhelming, raw power pressed openly against him. Nor was it akin to the brutal fight with Maw, whose revelation had shaken Kaiser's very sense of self-preservation by showing him his soul could be damaged.

This feeling was subtle and unnervingly quiet, insidious in its silent menace. He felt inexplicably vulnerable, exposed somehow, as though an unseen blade hovered mere inches from his neck. Kaiser knew this was not a sensation he could simply dismiss. He had survived countless threats by trusting instincts sharpened by experience, and right now, every instinct screamed at him to prepare.

Calming his breath, Kaiser steadied himself, deciding at once to employ the most reliable defensive technique he knew: The Oppidum Style. He took a moment to collect himself fully, recalling with perfect clarity its philosophy, its origins, and its intricate methodology.

Named after Oppidum, the legendary knight of Nebrosa—a figure whose blood Kaiser was said to share—the Oppidum Style was forged in the crucible of defensive warfare. Its core belief was elegantly simple yet profoundly effective: "Endure, Adapt, Prevail." To survive was not merely to persist but to emerge victorious. Every offensive action was only ever taken to reclaim lost ground, never rashly or prematurely.

Kaiser sank into the foundational stance. His knees bent deeply, his weight evenly distributed, with his back foot planted firmly like roots burrowing into earth. He gripped his sword securely with both hands, holding it angled slightly downward, tip ready to intercept or redirect any incoming attack.

He remembered clearly the guiding principle of absorption over deflection. The Oppidum Style did not rely on parrying or knocking force aside, but rather accepted incoming blows, dissipating their energy like a fortress wall designed not to shatter under siege but to absorb every punishing impact and endure.

Kaiser's body formed a seamless barrier—his elbows and forearms were carefully positioned, leaving no gaps, safeguarding every vital point. His off-hand, though currently grasping the sword, remained ready, the muscles trained and ready to move instantly. He understood instinctively that every successful defense would open an opportunity for a devastating counterstrike. Yet, true to the Oppidum tradition, he would never attack first—he would only respond decisively when compelled by necessity.

Fully immersed in this form, Kaiser felt a calm certainty settle within him. The world around him sharpened, every sound becoming clearer, every movement more pronounced. His heartbeat slowed, and the quiet rhythm of his breath steadied into a silent, potent pattern.

It was then, precisely when he reached the peak of his clarity and defensive prowess, that he perceived a whisper—faint and distorted, like words spoken underwater.

"Yes, Lord..."

Instantly alert, Kaiser's senses honed sharply toward the source. The voice echoed quietly yet unmistakably from beneath the floorboards beneath his feet. Without hesitation, Kaiser reacted. Maintaining his defensive stance, he channeled his Sol forcefully downward, stamping his foot with incredible power, an abrupt move meant not just to root out the threat, but to shatter any cover and gain a clear line of sight on whatever was lurking beneath him.

The floor shattered violently under his strike, wooden planks exploding inward, splinters scattering chaotically. A thick cloud of dust erupted upwards, temporarily obscuring his vision, forcing Kaiser to leap gracefully backward to avoid being swallowed by the collapsing surface.

In the swirling chaos, through the veil of dust, Kaiser caught a fleeting glimpse of something unsettling—a glimmer of intense, unnatural blue light, glowing ominously from beneath the fractured floorboards. He saw it only for an instant, a tantalizing glimpse before the strange illumination vanished abruptly, plunging the scene beneath him back into impenetrable darkness.

Cautiously, Kaiser held his ground, eyes narrowed sharply, sword raised and prepared. The silence that settled now was oppressive, thicker than mere absence of sound. His heart pulsed steadily, maintaining disciplined calm even as adrenaline surged within him.

"Come out," Kaiser commanded firmly, voice steady, yet carrying an undeniable menace beneath its surface. "You've watched, you've waited. Don't you think that it's now time to show yourself?"

He was answered only by the quiet creaking of settling debris, the subtle hiss of dust filtering slowly downward. His muscles remained tightly coiled, every nerve attuned to the slightest whisper of motion.

Stolen story; please report.

Then, without warning and in a blur too swift for the untrained eye to follow, something dashed straight toward Kaiser. He registered only the faintest shift before impact. Even for him, he wasn't sure he would be able to block if he wasn't using this form.

Kaiser braced, feet digging in as he let the force of the attack meet the bulwark of his sword, absorbing it fully, his arms and stance flowing with the energy. The edge of his blade angled just enough to guide the blow away, letting the attacker's momentum glide uselessly off his steel. At the same instant, Kaiser twisted and drove upward, pushing the force back. The entity was hurled across the room, crashing into the wall with a bone-rattling sound. Debris and dust exploded outward, swallowing the attacker and the far side of the chamber in a haze of ruin.

Kaiser didn't move. He held his ground, every sense honed to the razor's edge, eyes narrowed against the fog of dust and broken wood. He waited, calculating, his mind playing through the likely next moves of any thinking opponent. He expected the next attack to come, expected the familiar predator's patience or cunning feint. But it did not come. The silence stretched.

A muscle in Kaiser's jaw tightened. Annoyance prickled at him, not at the enemy's strength, but at its refusal to show itself, to fight on terms Kaiser knew he was superior then him. He raised his left hand, palm open, and swept it through the air with forceful precision. A surge of Sol burst outward, cold wind slamming in a perfect arc through the chamber. The dust vanished, clearing the ruinous interior with a sound like a rolling thunderclap.

And there, finally revealed, stood the figure Kaiser had seen in the window. His skin was a flawless, unnatural blue, rippling in the half-light. Short black hair bristled atop his head, and his eyes were pits of bottomless darkness, devouring every stray glimmer. In each hand he clutched a massive cleaver, the blades dull but wicked, stained with something that shimmered, almost oily, in the light.

This, Kaiser thought, was a monster, no matter if the world called such beings by any other name. There was nothing of humanity in those eyes, nothing left but hunger. The strange, black-centered Sol, swirling and warping inward, made Kaiser's skin crawl.

Yet despite the terror the figure naturally evoked, Kaiser forced himself to analyze. He read the standoff, none of the ink-cats dared approach the building now. Their master was here, or at least someone who was able to give them command.

But then Kaiser's attention sharpened on a detail he'd missed before. The creature had not spoken with its mouth; instead, a voice, thick and garbled as if spoken from the bottom of a lake, escaped from a deep, ugly cut across his throat. The wound was black around the edges, seeping no blood but something darker, and the sound itself felt as if it were being forced through a broken instrument.

The man, or rather the creature, seemed to be mumbling mostly to himself. "They're ruining things… why now… why today… it was meant to be tomorrow…" His free hand scratched absently at the wound, cleaver still dangling loosely from his grip. "The seed, the seed won't be ready. Why, why, why…"

Kaiser watched intently, confusion and caution warring for dominance. This wasn't the bravado of a villain, nor the cunning of a tactician, this was genuine distress, a predator discovering its trap had been sprung too soon.

Kaiser, keeping his sword steady and posture low, spoke, his voice steady, full of curiosity. "You're not like the others. You can think, you can speak. What is your name?"

The creature's head snapped up, eyes locking with Kaiser's. For a heartbeat, the room was silent but for the rasping breaths of the monster. Then that same voice, distant and submerged, hissed out: "Lucky. So lucky. The Herald… already has a plan. You're lucky… oh, so lucky lucky lucky…"

The words twisted with a frantic, almost gleeful despair. The blue man grinned, but it was a mockery of a smile. His hands gripped the cleavers tighter, knuckles blanched pale against blue skin.

The man shook his head, black eyes glimmering, and his voice grew lower, almost reverent. "It doesn't matter. Herald knows. Herald sees. Tomorrow, yesterday—makes no difference to the pit. The seed… the seed will grow. You are here, so you are marked, so you are lucky, lucky, lucky…"

He started to laugh, a bubbling, unnatural sound that turned into a wet cough. As he did, the cut on his throat pulsed, leaking black vapor, and the room's temperature seemed to fall by several degrees.

Kaiser stepped forward, brandishing his sword with deliberate menace. "Speak plainly, monster. What seed? What Herald? Who commands you?"

But the blue man only continued to scratch at his wound, his eyes rolling wildly, words collapsing into a litany of "lucky, lucky, lucky" that spiraled lower and lower into guttural nonsense. Each time he repeated the word, the black Sol at his core seemed to swell and contract, as if something alive and hungry squirmed beneath his skin.

Kaiser squared his shoulders, set his stance, and let the full discipline of the Oppidum Style flow into his limbs. If this thing was planning to attack again, it would have to face a fortress.

But as he measured the distance between them, a darker thought flickered behind his crimson eyes. There was a certain logic to these monsters' methods, unruly, yes, even barbaric, but sometimes a little chaos produced the best results. If they were acting for some higher purpose, something greater than wanton destruction… and if that purpose could be turned to his own advantage, then maybe, just maybe, this little pack of monsters could be more useful alive than dead.

The idea sparked a rare, chilling smile across Kaiser's lips, one that was sharp, predatory, and utterly devoid of warmth. In that moment, he looked every bit as monstrous as the mad, blue-skinned creature before him, or perhaps even more so. Testing them would be easy enough. And if they proved worthy, then he'd make sure they served his interests. If not… Then they had committed a sin far worse than genocide: they had dared to be useless to him.

And Kaiser had never shown mercy to such sinners.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.