The Unreachable Star
Tracking Dayton hadn't been difficult at all.
His traces were visible everywhere.
The carcasses of desert beasts that ruled the sands littered the area.
Every corpse was mangled beyond recognition or shattered into scattered fragments.
Dayton had butchered every monster in his path.
It was a display of overwhelming power that defied common sense.
Thanks to him, Zeon was safe from any beast threats.
"Just how strong is that guy? S-rank?"
Zeon shook his head.
He'd never seen it firsthand, so he couldn't say for sure, but even an S-rank couldn't unleash this kind of devastation.
In fact, Neo Seoul's S-rank Awakeners avoided venturing solo into the desert.
They might manage near the city, but traversing the distant sands alone terrified even them.
Dayton had been doing it for ages—something no S-rank would dare attempt.
He roamed the desert alone, facing hordes of monsters.
Monsters didn't fear him; they feared him.
Zeon had never encountered an Awakener like this.
"An Awakener beyond S-rank? Does Neo Seoul's leadership even know about him?"
He was genuinely curious.
Did they know about Dayton? And if they did, how did they react?
Dayton transcended norms in every way.
That's when it caught Zeon's eye—a plume of smoke rising far in the distance.
A single streak shot skyward from where the horizon met the heavens.
He didn't need to confirm it visually.
Dayton was there.
Zeon channeled mana to accelerate.
Shrrk!
His body glided across the sands like silk.
After thirty minutes of sprinting, he reached an oasis.
Not the mobile one where he'd once clashed with the sand maw, but a fixed one. No sand maws lived here, making it ideal for outposts or villages.
And that's exactly what the desert elves had built.
Their carefully tended village lay in ruins, chunks of flesh—presumably elven—scattered about.
Zeon's jaw dropped at the horrific scene.
"Fucking hell!"
Limbs strewn everywhere resembled the wreckage of toys smashed in a child's tantrum.
All by Dayton alone.
Zeon frantically searched for him.
It wasn't hard; Dayton stood nearby.
Before him knelt a middle-aged elf cradling a young girl, tears streaming down his face as he begged.
No words were audible, but the desperation screamed: Spare the girl.
She looked so young—maybe twelve in human years, though her true age was unknowable.
Zeon couldn't imagine Dayton harming a child elf. Even bitter enemies had taboos against killing the immature.
Splat!
As if mocking him, Dayton cleaved the middle-aged elf and girl in one stroke.
Blood sprayed, staining him crimson.
Zeon's reason snapped.
"You old bastard dog!"
He roared, sand surging like a tidal wave to engulf Dayton.
Vast quantities pressed down to crush him.
Then crimson aura erupted from Dayton's body like blood spray.
Boom!
The red light blasted the sand—and Zeon—away in an instant.
When Zeon came to, tumbling on the ground, the first thing he saw was Dayton's leg.
Lifting his gaze, Dayton loomed over him, eyes still wild with ferocity.
Zeon met that gaze without flinching.
"Aren't you ashamed, killing a kid who hasn't even grown up?"
"Kid?"
"She was just a little girl."
"Still older than you."
"That..."
Crunch!
Dayton stomped Zeon's back.
Immense pressure like a boulder crushed him; his face flushed beet red.
His spine and ribs threatened to shatter entirely—he couldn't breathe.
Grind!
The queen wolf ant shell chestplate screamed, on the verge of breaking.
"Urk!"
Zeon thrashed to escape, but Dayton's foot didn't budge.
"Hyaah!"
In desperation, he unleashed Sand Blaster.
Bang!
It struck true, but the blast that had pulverized a wolf ant head did nothing to Dayton.
Dayton pressed harder.
"Gahk!"
Zeon vomited blood.
Dayton stared down impassively.
No longer mad with rage, his eyes held unfathomable depths.
Hard to believe these were the eyes of the elf-slaying maniac moments ago.
He eased his foot slightly.
"Think I'm going too far?"
"Did... you have to kill the kid too?"
"Why spare kids? 'Cause they're young? 'Cause others say so? That brat grows up to be the enemy."
"But..."
"Elves are untrustworthy scum. They wrecked someone else's world to save theirs. Spare hypocrites 'cause they're young? Don't make me laugh. They got no right to live. I'll kill every bug I see from now on."
"..."
"Wanna call me wrong? Stop me? Then do it with skill, not your yap. Got it, you mouthy bitchin'!"
Dayton lifted his foot.
"Kuhk! Kehuk!"
Zeon coughed violently, eyes bloodshot.
A bit more pressure, and not just capillaries—his heart and organs would've burst.
He'd known he couldn't match Dayton.
Never even compared them.
Dayton was a star high in unreachable skies.
But now, his mindset shifted.
I'll become as strong as Dayton—or stronger.
Strong enough to speak his mind.
Not cowering like a mangy dog.
For the first time, he had a clear goal.
Surpass Dayton.
＊＊＊
Zeon surveyed the elf village.
Checking for survivors. None had escaped Dayton's hands.
No life spared—not one.
Over a hundred elves reduced to meat chunks; nausea welled up.
Yet doubt crept in.
He recalled Dayton's words.
They wrecked someone else's world to save theirs. So elves share blame for this ruined world?
If true, Dayton's rage made sense.
Zeon was born into ruin.
He knew nothing of the old world.
Most in Neo Seoul were the same.
Records existed, but unseen prosperity felt unreal.
Dayton had lived it—watched it crumble.
His loss and fury seemed inevitable.
"Hoo."
Zeon sighed.
Dayton stood alone far from the village.
Even lingering near elves horrified him; sharing their air was torture.
Zeon examined the dwellings—adobe huts hardened from sand.
Inevitable in a resourceless desert.
The oasis had sustained them; without it, they'd have perished long ago.
He entered a relatively intact house.
Spartan inside—essentials only.
But styles differed from Neo Seoul's.
Time-worn, antique aura.
Elven heirlooms, clearly.
Bow and arrows, ornate jewelry, robes caught his eye.
Zeon inspected them.
"Definitely not recent makes."
A dusty ancient tome drew him most—unfamiliar script.
From elves' original world, no doubt.
He stored the book and items in his subspace.
Useless to him, but sellable.
He swept everything worthwhile inside.
Rummaging, he found a hidden wall pantry.
His face twisted.
Piled with human goods—efficient designs unlike elven antiques.
Neo Seoul style.
Bloodstains suggested human origin.
"These fuckers! They robbed passersby."
Hostile elves wouldn't trade fair.
They ambushed travelers.
Any guilt from their deaths evaporated.
Scavengers in elven skin.
They didn't spare lives—silenced witnesses.
The haul implied many victims.
"Killed a ton, huh."
Zeon shook his head, rifling through.
Nothing useful—elves had used the good stuff; junk remained.
Dead weight.
He exited.
Other houses yielded nothing.
Zeon amplified his sand control; regional sands rippled.
Tsss!
They engulfed the village—huts, corpses, all buried.
A sizable settlement became a tomb instantly.
No trace lingered; desert sands leave none.
Even chance visitors wouldn't know elves lived here.
Zeon filled his waterskin from the oasis, then approached Dayton.
Night had passed; sun lit the sands.
Dayton walked wordlessly.
Zeon followed in silence.