Paul’s eyes widened in sudden, horrifying clarity as the full implication of the situation sank in.

"The Base," he gasped, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Without another word, he tore away from his companions, driven by a frantic urgency that pulsed through his veins like fire.

He could save them from the Hoarder if he hurried.

He now realized that it had all been a clever ploy to get him away from them so he could finish them off easily.

The whole thing now made him sure that the Hoarder wasn’t working alone.

He had sped off to the Hoarder’s light source almost immediately it went off yet he hadn’t seen him.

In that short time his team leaders, he had gone back to the camp to attack them?

Teleportation could explain it but he waved off the idea.

The Hoarder had an accomplice.

"You would both rue the day you decided to cross me," He vowed as he rushed towards the camp.

The journey back to the Base was a blur of motion and desperation.

His mind raced faster than his feet, a tumult of fear and dread. He had left them vulnerable, exposed.

The innocents he had slaughtered were only part of Jeremy’s twisted game; the real prize was his stronghold, his people.

As he approached the Base, an unnatural silence met him, more chilling than any battle cry.

An oppressive aura hung in the air. He forced his way inside, his heart a relentless hammer in his chest.

The sight that greeted him froze him in his tracks.

Shadow Demons, ethereal and nightmarish were bent over the fallen forms of his followers.

Their malevolent shapes twisted and contorted, consuming the very essence of their victims.

Paul could almost hear the silent screams as the lights of his people flickered and died, extinguished by the relentless hunger of the Demons.

N-no... please no..."

"S-save me! S-SAVE M—!"

"Guarrgghhh!"

He spotted June, a boy he was particularly fond of reaching out for him as a demon hovered above him.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!"

The word tore from his throat, raw and ragged, as he rushed forward, his war hammer drawn.

But it was too late. The last spark of life in the eyes of June winked out as he reached him, leaving behind only a lifeless shell.

He slashed at the Demons, but his blade passed through their insubstantial forms, meeting only the cold, empty air.

The light shield around him protected him else he would have had a hard time himself getting through.

The air was thick with the Shadow demons.

He reached the terminals to see that the light source he had created was shattered beyond repair.

He knew that it was no coincidence that it just happened to take place in their absence.

Despair clawed at him, but amidst the chaos, he glimpsed a fleeting figure—a silhouette in the darkness.

Jeremy. The sight of his nemesis ignited a blaze of fury within him. He has to kill him.

He abandoned the futile battle and dashed after the shadowy figure, the need for vengeance driving him forward.

Through the labyrinthine corridors of the Base, Paul pursued the elusive shape.

His breath came in ragged gasps, each step a surge of raw determination.

But no matter how fast he ran, the figure remained just out of reach, a phantom dancing on the edge of his vision.

He scanned the darkness, but there was nothing—only the whisper of the wind and the distant echo of his own footsteps.

Jeremy had vanished, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of defeat.

He bowed his head, a low, anguished cry escaping his lips.

The night closed in around him, the silence a deafening roar in his ears.

In the cold, unforgiving darkness, Paul was alone, engulfed by the shadows of his defeat.

*

*

*

I observed the relentless slaughter of the Gifted Alliance’s General Team with a malevolent smile, savoring the sight of their ultimate annihilation.

Teasing Paul with my presence had been the most satisfying as I knew I had raised his bloodlust.

Given everything I had done, it was understandable to see why he would want to kill me.

The Base, once a place of organized defense, had transformed into a wild slaughterfest.

"Look at them," I muttered under my breath, "powerless and defeated."

My careful planning had paid off, and my decision to remain behind while Sariel dealt with the light source had paid off.

The week’s task had been easy to see through and I didn’t doubt that Paul would have no time figuring it out.

Despite his narrow vision and foolishness, he wasn’t all that dumb.

This was his field too which was a plus for him.

I knew that it would be a waste of time trying to race a Master Forger and legendary inventor to build a light source before him.

It was why I had Sariel handle it instead. Victory was certain that way.

On any day, an Angel speed was mind-blowing to Gifted eyes.

A Celestial Archangel?

Oh well, poor Paul just didn’t stand a chance.

With what had gone earlier on with the boss of the previous week, I was sure that doubts were creeping in the minds of the other team leaders about their Guildmaster supposed invincibility.

By now, he would no doubt be crying his eyes out somewhere over the loss of the General team.

I cringed at the idea. Such weakness from a leader. Another reason why he could never win in our war.

His Alignment was his biggest setback to him fully utilizing his strength. It was disgusting how it held him back given his strength.

As I continued to watch the aftermath of the slaughter from my hidden place, a sense of satisfaction welled up within me.

Another strike had been executed flawlessly, and the Gifted Alliance’s hope was slowly but surely being extinguished.

This was only the beginning, and there was no turning back now.

Very soon, Paul would lose everything he held dear.