The Fissures of Emptiness

The fissures of emptiness—phsssh...

What I perceived first was the colorless void. It spread out from Walter at the center, the very essence of invisibility itself—like a surging tidal wave reversing and sweeping away Miya's darkness.

Miya shuddered, her eyes trembling as she screamed.

"Ha...! How...! This can't be...!"

"...Hmm."

Walter offered no reply, simply standing there and drawing deeply on his cigarette.

"The great Eckhart...! Why the hell are you in a shithole like this...!"

"...It's been ages since I last heard that title."

Walter let out a hollow chuckle, his voice heavy with regret.

"Haha, hahaha... The great Eckhart, fallen so low he's hiding out in some backwater village..."

"Fallen... Yeah. Can't argue with that."

"If you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a has-been, stay buried and rot—why crawl out to get in my way...!"

"...I just couldn't stand by and watch that vile, ugly foot trying to crush a sprout that might one day grow into a mighty tree."

Kugugugugu!

Miya gathered her mana to counter Walter's authority.

Space rippled wildly.

It grazed car bodies, slipped through cracks in building walls, wove between sewers and alleys... The darkness scattered like fallout across hundreds, thousands of meters surged toward Miya like a waterfall.

A frantic, desperate return, like rats scurrying through walls.

Only after reclaiming every shred of nearby darkness could Miya finally standoff against Walter's void on equal footing.

"I heard you vanished to dodge that birdbrain...! How are you still wielding your power so flawlessly...!"

Miya spat furiously, barely maintaining equilibrium.

"Hmph."

Walter's brow twitched faintly at the term 'birdbrain.'

He casually flicked away his shortened cigarette butt.

Flick—

In that instant, a bizarre sensation swept over my body.

Time seemed to slow. Space warped strangely, my vision blurring like a fever dream.

I watched the cigarette butt rotate lazily as it fell.

Trailing embers, pulled by gravity, slowly downward, toward the pavement.

There was only one meaning to it. Something indescribable had just passed between Walter and Miya.

Even I, a third party, felt a momentary rift in space-time... An invisible clash of unimaginable terror.

Curious what had happened, I widened my eyes and activated mana sight.

And then.

"Huh, huff...!"

The incomprehensible scene choked the breath from my lungs.

Sprawling across kilometers: the intents of Walter and Miya. And the tens of thousands of afterimages formed by their tangled clash.

Ghostly silhouettes mimicking their colliding forms flickered densely everywhere.

Now I understood.

Before the cigarette even hit the ground, they'd already exchanged tens of thousands of clashes with intent alone.

Emotions like amazement or awe were beyond me... Witnessing this mad exchange that transcended human limits and stepped into the divine realm made my heart pound wildly.

Crsssh!

Walter crushed the butt underfoot and stepped forward in earnest.

"Ahaha, ahahahaha...! Insane...! Not even once..."

Miya's trembling laughter carried shock. In those tens of thousands of exchanges, she hadn't landed a single effective hit on Walter.

"You know it well. You can never beat me."

"..."

"What you said earlier was right. I can't wield my full power now. Just fragments."

Walter's eyes gleamed fiercely as he spoke.

"But to crush vermin like you... A fragment of a fragment, a shard of a shard is more than enough."

"...You mad bastard...!"

"It's been a while since I've faced someone who glimpsed the realm of nothingness within twenty thousand exchanges. Executors truly live up to their name."

"Hahaha, ahahahaha!!!"

Miya laughed like she'd lost her mind—a hollow, manic cackle.

Rarely, a bead of cold sweat trickled down the cheek of this apex predator, who had always maintained her aloof aura.

Flash!

Desperation peaking, an energy orb formed over Miya's hand.

Like shards of a shattered mirror floating in air, a dense aggregate of refracted info from city CCTVs and Management Bureau data streams.

But before her signal could transmit, Walter murmured coldly.

"Think that'll work?"

Crackle!

The orb evaporated in sparks.

"Grgh...! A barrier...?"

'A barrier?'

Miya's stunned voice drew my gaze skyward, entranced.

Only then did I notice the sky's anomaly.

A colorless veil rippled high above, intricate magic circles flickering on its surface—a barrier enveloping kilometers perfectly.

"...This space is already detached from reality. To keep you from playing tricks."

Miya had been a rat in a trap from the start.

"You goddamn old fart—"

Her furious shriek echoed, but Walter, still utterly composed, glanced back at me with his usual friendly tone.

"You alright? I'll handle her. Rest up over there."

Flash!

With a casual wave, a thick, sturdy shield enveloped me.

Thump.

Witnessing his leisure, Miya's eyes bulged with madness.

"Right. Intent is just intent... Real combat has endless variables. I'll show you—an old relic like you can be butchered...!"

Kugugugugu...

Mana waves exploded, shaking the entire space madly.

Beeeep!!

A chime-like tinnitus rang in my ears as Miya's fully condensed [Black Eclipse] ignited like black flames.

Immediately after.

Fwoosh!

All prior chaos abruptly hushed.

A chilling silence, like entering the eye of a storm.

I sensed instinctively: This [Black Eclipse] was Executor Miya's true authority, hidden until now. Everything she'd shown clashing with me was mere playtime with an ant.

Beyond my gaze loomed the harbinger of death.

A shadowy figure hooded to the eyes, face shrouded in deep darkness.

The hem and sleeves of its jet-black robe billowed grotesquely dozens of meters back—like a colossal squid in the abyss trailing tentacles many times its size.

In the true form of Miya's right hand writhed a pulsing obsidian spear.

Gathering light, sound, even ambient mana particles voraciously, she gripped her ultimate weapon.

Bang!

No warning—the first strike launched.

Keeeng!

And the javelin vanished.

"...!"

Beyond destruction or erasure: pure absence.

The javelin vanished into Walter's void barrier without shockwave or causal ripple.

In that instant, Walter swung his hand.

Keeeeng!

The writhing void lashed out, annihilating all it touched.

Like an eraser tool in a graphics program—its path left no color, shadow, or even concept of space. Just empty nothing.

The void wave surged toward Miya at terrifying speed.

Of course, she didn't yield easily.

Flash! Her robe's long hem whipped as she vanished into the air.

With incantation, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her robe flared as she reappeared behind, slamming down a massive greatsword meters long.

The hyper-compressed obsidian blade inscribed slashes that erased all, akin to Walter's void magic.

A strategy to counter void with similar power.

But.

Clang!

Walter's enveloping void veil dispersed even that house-sized greatsword in an instant.

Gelrasenhite's void meant absolute deletion. A crude imitation like [Nightcleaver] was futile.

"Pointless antics."

Countless colorless magic circles manifested omnidirectionally, blocking Miya's retreat.

"...!"

Keeeeng!

Void pillars erupted from the circles, crisscrossing in chaotic slashes.

Flash!

Miya dodged instinctively, but part of her robe vanished in chunks.

"Tch..."

Regaining posture, Miya condensed new mana into a weapon: a serpentine black whip for erratic strikes.

Snap, snaaap!

The whip bent at odd angles, probing blind spots for Walter's rear—but still insufficient against the void.

"Haa..."

Miya sighed, adjusting strategy.

"Nightcleaver."

Crack!

She vanished in a sharp shockwave.

Sensing direct exchanges futile, she shifted to speed-blitz for victory.

Their battle now outpaced even my mana sight.

"Abyssal FangNightcleaverCoiling ViperNightcleaverAbyssal FangCoiling ViperNightcleaverNightcleaverCoiling ViperAbyssal FangCoiling ViperAbyssal Fang"

Innumerable incantations raged like a gale at the battlefield's heart. I could only glimpse fleeting afterimages to guess the desperate flow.

Sometimes thrusting abyssal spears from all directions. Sometimes cleaving causality with obsidian greatswords. Sometimes probing gaps with grotesque whips.

Yet despite her frenzy, the tide clearly favored Walter, the reaper.

He overwhelmed her with mere finger flicks, no proper incantation.

Especially the [Void] draped like a veil over him. No matter the physical force or spells poured in, it rendered them null.

Taat!

Unable to inflict even a scratch amid her barrage, Miya backstepped desperately to gain distance.

Miya's form was wretched.

Her robe shredded to rags. One arm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gone, dispersed. Piercing wounds across her body barely held by darkness.

"Urgh... Koff..."

She chewed her pain within the shadowed hood.

"...This won't do."

Resolving something, Miya extended her remaining arm, clutching empty air.

Black Eclipse's final form began manifesting. Ambient mana quivered in dread—its aura ominous from the start.

Gurgle! Suddenly, darkness erupted from the air with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠far greater ferocity.

"Ultimate Secret Art"

...As the jet-black wave receded, a colossal scythe emerged, blotting the sky—like the Grim Reaper incarnate, its radiating deathly aura prickling my skin.

"Harvest Offering"

Realizing normal attacks useless against Walter, Miya expended all her power for this doomsday strike.

Even a glimpse told me: Dangerous.

A killing essence that might fatally wound even Walter.

For a moment, I felt bound to the guillotine.

Paralyzed, unable to twitch. The blade dangled precariously above.

And finally.

"This ends it...!"

Slash!

The harvest scythe swung—as the guillotine blade plummeted toward my neck.

Shielded safely within Walter's barrier, a horrific instinct flashed: 'I'm dead.'

It harvested lives conceptually. Physical defenses meant nothing.

As the blade neared, vision blacking, heart stalling—

Fwaaah!

Instantly, the void proliferated explosively.

Soon, the colorless void filling the world receded like an ebbing tide.

"...Huff!"

I barely awoke.

Walter hadn't shielded me for nothing. He'd anticipated deploying the apex Colorless Transcendence Gate and protected me from its aftermath.

Like when I'd shielded Zero and the team with lightning barriers before using Outer Sea Calamity in the abandoned hospital.

"..."

Before me stood Executor Miya.

But.

Her uniform, twintails, gleaming golden eyes—all "washed away." Drained of vitality head to toe, like a pillar of pale salt.

A hollow shell, stripped of its essence.

I opened my Grimoire and incanted. Instinct told me what to do.

Fwaaah!

An abyssal whirlpool raged, its pull snatching the essence hidden deep within Miya.

Crack!

A massive fissure split her salt-pillar lower abdomen, extracting thick leaden essence.

The spiritual core akin to a mage's heart—its extraction meant permanent loss of power. Like the lower dantian in wuxia novels.

I unhesitatingly absorbed the leaden essence into myself.

Fwaaah!

Partly for power, but mainly to counter the Management Bureau.

Losing a key Executor would intensify their pursuit.

Only one path: Absorb Miya's essence, read its memory fragments. The most effective survival strategy.

A sensation like swallowing lead, followed by vivid mana seeping into my veins and nerves.

Memories of the "Management Bureau" flooded in pell-mell.

Though the essence was mostly depleted by Walter's void... It'd still prove invaluable.

"Farewell. Not the strongest—just a nobody."

Even with an unexpected ally's aid, why cower? In this world, survivors are the strong. Outdated vanities like fair fights or honor rusted away long ago.

Miya's powerless body crumbled to white dust, scattering in the night wind.

Thus ended my grudge with Miya.

Only after the barrier lifted did the devastation reveal itself starkly.

G Block, ravaged by the fierce battle, lay utterly scorched. Kilometers exposed to ultra-high heat had vitrified into smooth, flattened glassland.

Belated sirens brought reality crashing back.

Walter spoke amid the desolate scene.

"We should move. Before the other Bureau bastards pinpoint coordinates."

We hurried toward C Block's border.

....

En route to C Block, I cautiously asked what burned in my mind.

"Um... what happened to Zero? Was he caught in that darkness earlier...?"

"...He's not dead. I got him out beforehand."

Relief washed over me at those words.

Zero. He'd survived somehow. That restaurant contact—was it Walter's message? Grumpy bald jerk or not, I'd grown fond. Parting there might've left me moping awhile.

I sighed in relief.

'Makes sense. Anyone this monster calls a friend has to have better survival chops than me.'

Soon, at C Block's entrance, a familiar, wretched wail greeted us.

"What the fuck is all this shit!! My clinic!!! My gear!!!"

"...Zero?"

Far off, a man clawed at his head before his unrecognizable clinic ruins.

'...Bald guys can tear at their hair too, huh.'

"Fuck! Do you know how much that cost! You bastards!! Pay up!!! Compensation!!!"

His vivid, worldly scream drew involuntary chuckles, easing my tension.

Hey, alive is alive, right?

I slowly turned to Walter.

"...Mister."

He gazed down silently, his earlier majesty gone—back to the ordinary innkeeper.

But now I knew. How absurd this man truly was.

"What the hell are you, really?"

Adjusting his monocle, Walter smiled bitterly at my question.

"Who knows. Just... the owner of the inn where you're staying."

"How can I believe that? The great Eckhart... That's what Miya called you."

Unable to withstand my stare, he looked skyward and spoke.

"...Fine. Things have gone this far—truth it is."

Exhaling, Walter continued.

"I am... Meister von Eckhart, once Tower Master of the Red Tower."