The sky over every major city was no longer blue; it was a bruised, bleeding violet.

[Master, final scans are complete] Crul’s voice echoed in Ethan’s mind, cold and analytical amidst the global screaming. [The invaders’ power levels are confirmed. They are all at the Spiritual Gathering Realm - Spiritual Condensation Stage.]

Ethan’s lips pulled back into a feral, bloodthirsty grin. The adrenaline hit his system like a drug. "So... they are weaker than me. They came to conquer a world of ants, not realizing there was a wolf in the nest."

"Crul, send a global broadcast immediately," Ethan commanded, his voice vibrating with power. "Order all Royal forces and surviving local militias to retreat. Fall back to the underground bunkers. Do not engage. If they stay and fight, they die. Tell them to buy time... the King is going hunting."

[Transmitting now. But Master, there is a tactical anomaly. The 250 signatures are not wandering aimlessly. Their vectors are converging. The epicenter is the mountain range where the Union’s beacon was first ignited. They aren’t here for the planet’s resources, Ethan. They are here for him.]

"The Deacon’s master," Ethan chuckled, his eyes glowing with a terrifying intensity. "They want their lost servant. Fine. Let them find me. Let’s see what these ’Conquerors’ are made of when the prey starts biting back."

Across the globe, the order went out. In the ruins of Paris, a Royal commander barked into his comms, "Retreat! All units, abandon the barricades! Into the tunnels, now!"

His soldiers didn’t hesitate, vanishing into the shadows just as a streak of red light slammed into the Eiffel Tower, melting the steel like wax. Above them, two Outsiders in crimson armor floated, laughing as they watched the humans flee.

"Look at them run!" one roared, his voice amplified by spiritual energy. "Is this the ’mighty resistance’ the Deacon warned us about? They are nothing but cockroaches scurrying from the light!"

"Pathetic," the other replied, waving a hand and sending a wave of fire toward a fleeing transport. "A world of weaklings. They think the dirt will hide them from the Crimson Sect."

But the arrogance was not entirely unchecked. In the outskirts of Tokyo, a combined force of former Union rebels and Royal snipers managed to trap an Outsider in a crossfire of high-output laser cannons.

"FIRE!" the rebel leader screamed.

A concentrated beam of pure energy pierced the Outsider’s barrier, tearing through his red plate. The invader let out a shocked shriek as his chest cavity was vaporized. He fell to the earth, a smoking husk.

"WE KILLED ONE! WE KILLED—"

Before the soldier could finish, a cataclysmic explosion leveled the entire city block. A second Outsider had descended, his face twisted in a sneer. "You dare touch a chosen of the Sect? Burn, you filth!"

"The cities are burning, Crul," Ethan whispered, watching the satellite feeds as he accelerated toward the mountain epicenter. "The world matrix is holding back the worst of their power, or the atmosphere would have ignited by now. But it’s not enough."

[Bajas have slowed since the retreat order, but the destruction is absolute, Master. The invaders are growing overconfident. They believe the silence of our armies is a sign of total surrender.]

"Good," Ethan growled, his body becoming a blur of amethyst light that tore through the clouds. "Let them laugh. Let them call us cowards. I want them to feel safe. I want them to think this is just another easy harvest."

He looked ahead, seeing the jagged peaks of the mountain range where the beacon had been lit. Several dozen red signatures were already circling the area, their spiritual pressure crushing the trees below.

"Order every hidden unit to keep their distance," Ethan commanded. "This isn’t a war of armies anymore. It’s an execution. I’m going to show them why this planet was never meant to be found."

Ethan snapped his fingers, and his Amethyst Void Body flared, masking his presence from their primitive spiritual scans.

At the peak of the mountain, the air was thin and bitingly cold, but the spiritual pressure radiating from the gathered Outsiders kept the frost at bay. In the center of the landing zone stood a man who looked strikingly different from the armored brutes surrounding him. He was young, his features sculpted with an almost feminine perfection, and he wore flowing robes of crimson silk that shimmered with an inner light. He didn’t need armor; his presence alone acted as a sanctuary.

He looked around the desolate, rocky terrain with an expression of mild boredom, his hands tucked into his wide sleeves. "So," he said, his voice melodious and calm. "Are we certain this is the correct coordinate?"

"Yes, Young Master," one of the armored commanders replied, bowing deeply. "This is the exact location where that supposed Deacon sent the emergency beacon. According to the data he transmitted, there were warriors here of ’unprecedented’ power. He warned that we should proceed with extreme caution."

The Young Master let out a soft, mocking hilt of a laugh. "Caution? For this?"

The commander nodded, holding up a glowing, translucent stone that acted as a spiritual scanner. It pulsed rhythmically, sweeping the area for high-level energy signatures. "Our scouting parties have already begun the purge. We’ve had five casualties, but they were due to sheer carelessness—getting caught in primitive energy traps. We’ve decimated every organized force that dared to stand. The rest are fleeing like insects into the dark."

He glanced at the stone, which remained steady. "The Deacon was clearly a coward who grew old and senile on this backwater rock. He exaggerated the threat to justify his own incompetence. The situation is entirely under control, Master. There isn’t a single soul on this planet capable of looking you in the eye."

"A pity," the Young Master sighed, looking up at the bruised sky. "I was hoping for a challenge. This feels less like a conquest and more like cleaning a dusty room."

The commander chuckled, his scanner sweeping across a nearby ridge. "The inhabitants are weak, their energy is thin, and their ’technology’ is a joke. We will have this world shackled and ready for extraction by nightfall. There is nothing left to—"