Ascension of the Dark Seraph-Chapter 365: Not Just His Avatar

Chapter 365: Not Just His Avatar

Hector watched in horror, shuddering in the corner.

Screams and cries of death filled the entire bar as if the Grim Reaper wanted to share his kind of pleasure with the living. Blood was splattered everywhere—sprayed on the wall, pooled on the floor, and splashed onto him.

He watched as his men desperately struggled to survive.

One was frozen in place, another clawed the wall—that doesn’t seem to budge frantically, and another went down to his knees and started begging. But none of them were spared. No matter what they tried to do, there was no other outcome than brutal death.

No chance for survival since Lucivar had already set his mind to kill them from the start.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night.

Preparations had been made ever since the attack on Leandra. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

No scent.

No trace of power.

Sutekh’s avatar, Lucivar, wouldn’t be able to locate them, wouldn’t be able to recognize that there were people around the academy—that had become an eye of Horus’ avatar. Every single detail was tailored to be effective against Sutekh’s avatar.

But somehow, Lucivar was able to outwit them.

‘Just how… how did he have this kind of ability? How did he fool us?’

Hector couldn’t believe it.

All of their preparations and plans weren’t worth anything to Lucivar.

Lucivar dismantled all of them without much fuss.

It was almost as if he could see into the future.

“Where are you going? Why are you running?!” Lucivar laughed, his face and hands dripping with the thickness of fresh blood as he chased those who were trying to run to the other side of the bar with a fast walk. “Didn’t you guys boast your big balls earlier? Where are they? Show them to me!”

Lucivar cackled maniacally as he grabbed hold of another man.

He tripped and pinned the man down with his foot.

Grabbing his right arm, Lucivar grinned deviously as he tore it off slowly, painfully.

Just hearing the sound of ripping flesh, screams of pain, and the snapping of bones caused the women in tight dresses who were sitting stiffly, with their eyes and ears closed, to flinch. No matter how hard their fingers pressed against their ears, the sound still managed to go through.

And the sound was too much for people like them who aren’t accustomed to violence of this level.

One of them bent down to the side and vomited.

Not a mild one, but a severe vomit that completely drenched the seat next to her.

In the midst of tormenting the man under him, Lucivar raised his gaze and turned towards the woman.

“Ah, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Lucivar let go of the man—as he immediately writhed in pain on the floor, and approached the blonde woman with clear blue eyes. He was having fun killing these foolish Hybrids who think they were anything but ants, but now it was momentarily ruined.

Hearing his voice, the blonde woman turned towards him to grovel.

But in doing so, she saw more dead bodies, which immediately made her gag and vomit more.

Lucivar stood across from her, looking down at her with a disapproving gaze.

“Did I give you permission to vomit? You’re ruining the mood.”

“I-I’m sorry!” She turned to Lucivar and choked out, her voice trembling—as sobs wracked her body, mascara running down her tear-streaked cheeks, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her hands clasped together tightly, shaking as she forced herself to apologize through the rising hysteria. “Please—Please, I… I’m not used to this! D-Don’t kill me! I’ll do anything, I sweat—I’ll do anything you want!”

As opposed to being pleased, Lucivar’s face twisted hideously.

His nose wrinkled and his lips curled at the edges in either disgust or disbelief; the woman didn’t know.

Lucivar went down on one knee to match the blonde woman’s eye level.

“What I want…” He said softly, brushing the blonde woman’s hair behind her ear, “It’s for you not to get in the way. Be silent and let me kill in peace. I even offered you the courtesy of closing your eyes and covering your ears. But still… You have to disturb me.”

“Please… The smell… I can’t.” She sobbed harder, rubbing her hands in plea for mercy.

But Lucivar simply smiled and pulled her into his embrace.

“It’s okay…” He whispered, gently rubbing her lustrous blonde hair as she sobbed harder.

She kept begging for mercy in between her sobs like a broken cassette.

Crack!

In one brutal motion, Lucivar broke the blonde woman’s neck, granting her a swift, painless death.

All of the women nearby who heard the loud bony crack flinched and trembled—but Lucivar didn’t heed them as, with surprising tenderness, he laid the blonde woman’s body down. Fear still clung to her expression, frozen in her final moments, but Lucivar gently closed her eyelids, as if honoring a life he never intended to take.

Not because he was soft, but because there’s no point.

‘I can’t reach the third ascension, so what’s the point of farming more spheres?’

Once he was done, he stood up and turned towards the other women.

“My underling was surrounded—and you guys only chuckled and watched, waiting to be amused.” He said with a monotone voice, looking at these women in tight dresses who were pretending they couldn’t hear him. “But I’m a kind person. I’m not going to kill you—unless you give me a reason to, so girls… do what you can do best.”

Lucivar turned and walked away, “Sit there and look pretty. Don’t disturb me.”

As he returned to where he was earlier, he spotted the man whose arm he had torn off—crawling away, dragging himself with a single limb. Behind him, a thick, wet trail of blood smeared across the glittering ground—poured from the still-gushing stump.

Each grunt that escaped his throat was soaked in survival instinct.

“I apologize for the interruption,” He chimed, eyes gleaming with sadistic delight, as he looked at the man writhing on the ground. “Some people lack basic manners, so I had to remind them. Now, where were we?”

Lucivar stepped closer and smirked, “Still clinging to life? Good. I like your spirit.”

Just then, the man reached for something underneath the sofa.

He flipped his body and pointed the gun he took straight at Lucivar, charging it instantly with ether.

Sparks of lightning travelled from his arm to the gun as his lips curled mockingly.

“Die, you fucker!”

Bang!

As soon as the man pulled the trigger, a thunderous crack rang as the bullet burst from the barrel.

It was wreathed in lightning—arcs of raw attribute spiraled around the bullet, distorting the air as it picked up its pace, faster than the eye could track. The charged round howled through the room like a lance of death, aimed squarely at Lucivar’s chest.

It should’ve torn through flesh, shattered bone, and punched clean through anything in its path.

Just the speed, power, and precision alone should make it a killing blow.

But as it reached its mark, Lucivar raised his hand—two fingers snapped up in a blur.

Clink!

Under the man’s gaze, the bullet stopped cold between Lucivar’s thumb and index finger, caught mid-flight as if it were nothing more than a falling coin. Lightning crackled and hissed against his kind, then fizzled out, doing absolutely nothing to him.

For a moment, the world went silent.

Soon, the man’s eyes widened in disbelief, stunned by the impossibility of it all.

Lucivar turned the bullet over between his fingers with idle curiosity, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Are you mocking me?” Lucivar asked, his voice calm but laced with insult. He gazed at the man with a wounded expression, as if genuinely offended by the attempt. “Did you really think that a sloppy, half-baked enchanted bullet like this could kill me?”

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he approached and crouched down in front of them to level their eyes.

“Honestly,” he said, almost sighing. “If you’re going to shoot me… at least aim like you mean it.”

Lucivar guided the handgun and pointed it directly at his forehead.

He pressed the barrel against his forehead and even helped the man to hold it steady.

“Here, you’re not going to miss, and I wouldn’t be able to dodge even if I wanted to.” He said in hubris.

Gritting his teeth, the man didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He didn’t only pull it once, but multiple times—until the handgun exploded, thrashing his hand in the process. Even until the end, until the handgun was no longer functional, Lucivar remained unbothered, still looking at him without flinching.

Just then, Lucivar’s hand moved, catching a solid metal object that fell from above with his hand.

Clutching it in his hand, he showed it to the man.

All three bullets that he fired were clamped together, unable to penetrate through Lucivar’s forehead.

Even with three point-blank shots, Lucivar’s forehead was completely fine.

Not even an entry hole.

“H-How…?” The man stuttered in horror.

Only now did he come to realize that the gap between them was akin to heaven and earth.

From the very start, there was no chance for him to claw through this situation.

Lucivar smiled faintly, holding the small piece of metal balanced above his thumb. He tilted his hand downward, casually aligning it with the man’s head as if he were doing something casual. No explanation and no theatrics.

He didn’t bother to answer the man’s question.

He didn’t bother to say that his body had been tempered in the Anvil of Sutekh.

Then, with a simple flick of his thumb, the metal launched forward.

A sharp crack split the air as the metal shot out like a true bullet, faster than the man could flinch.

It penetrated through the man’s forehead, a single, brutal hole marking the end.

Soon, his body collapsed with a heavy thud.

“Blessed by the avatar, my ass,” Lucivar sneered. “None of them looked special to me.”

Meanwhile, Hector was still on the corner, clutching his head with both hands like a scared kid.

His eyes trailed and met with Zibbo’s.

Despite the carnage, Zibbo was still sitting on the bar, drinking alcohol as if it were another night.

“Best for you to tell him everything,” He said nonchalantly. “Death is not the worst, trust me.”

Just as Zibbo said that, Hector gulped when Lucivar appeared from the other room.

He was cleaning his hands that were drenched in blood with a cloth.

“You’re Sutekh’s avatar,” Hector forced out the words. “How did you have this ability?”

Hector was briefed about what Sutekh’s avatar’s ability would most likely possess.

But there shouldn’t be any clone ability.

“I confirmed that I’m his avatar,” Lucivar mused inwardly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to clean his hands. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just his avatar…”