"He's still alive, General Brighton."
The officer beside Brighton spoke, his face pale with shock.
"What? How is that possible? He was hit by the magma beam! No one could survive that!"
Brighton snapped his head up in disbelief.
Under the astonished gaze of everyone watching, the figure clad in golden armor, Kassadin, erupted in blinding purple light, and behind him, a towering shadow, a hundred meters tall, loomed over the battlefield.
"Who... who is this guy?"
"Is that the god of this world?"
On the other battleships, none had ever encountered Harvey before, so no one recognized the mysterious figure locked in combat with the apocalypse worm. But the sheer power emanating from this golden-armored warrior was something beyond their comprehension.
Some bounty hunters even started to believe that this must be the arrival of a god.
In the ancient history of many planets, legends spoke of deities—beings wielding unfathomable powers. And now, this armored figure, with his mask gleaming gold, seemed to fit that description perfectly.
Harvey, still amid battle, eyed the molten giant insect, which had somehow survived his attacks—Fear Tasting, Void Slash, and even his full-powered Leap Strike. Although the worm was wounded, it wasn't dead. Worse, its time spent submerged in magma only made it stronger. Its regenerative abilities were formidable, and it was healing rapidly.
If this dragged on, the fight could devastate everything around them. He had no time to waste—he needed to end this now.
Harvey made a decision. No more holding back. He would ascend.
In an instant, his golden armor shattered.
At the moment of his transformation, Harvey heard a cold, arrogant voice echo in his mind.
"I sense... worthy prey."
With the emergence of a shadowy presence, even at a great distance, soldiers aboard various warships felt an indescribable chill creep down their spines. An overwhelming fear seized them as if death was inevitable and no place was safe.
Every single bounty hunter and soldier on the ships began to panic. Many fainted on the spot, unable to bear the crushing pressure.
Only a few, hardened by years of brutal combat, managed to stay conscious. Brighton was one of them, but even his face was deathly pale, his body soaked in cold sweat.
He glanced at Kassadin—or rather, the monstrous form Harvey had assumed. The void assassin now stood a hundred meters tall, his body covered in sleek, purple skin, his muscles rippling with strength. All Brighton could make out was a pair of razor-sharp claws gleaming with a deadly purple glow.
Then, without warning, the shadow vanished.
Brighton's body lurched forward, and he nearly collapsed, barely managing to catch himself on the command table in front of him. His breath came in ragged gasps, heart pounding as though it might burst from his chest. The suffocating sense of doom lingered, threatening to overwhelm him.
Others may not have seen it, but the apocalyptic worm had witnessed it all.
It had seen the hundred-meter-tall, terrifying creature covered in sleek, purple skin—a predator with a gleaming set of claws that had disappeared into the void.
The worm, an apex predator in its own right, felt something it had never known before: fear.
It was like being a lamb, isolated and helpless, trapped in an invisible cage with death looming over it. All it wanted was to flee. But where? It had no idea where safety could be found.
It began to move, trying to burrow back into the ground, desperate to return to the warm embrace of the magma below—the only place that still offered any semblance of security.
But before the colossal insect could retreat, a set of glowing purple claws sliced through the air, silently tearing into its flesh.
The creature's once impenetrable scales, which had resisted countless attacks, now gave way like paper.
The colossal beast, frozen in the middle of its desperate dive toward safety, suddenly halted. Its thousand-meter-long body collapsed in pieces, neatly severed into thirty-two segments. Blood poured from the wounds like rivers, drenching the battlefield in a torrential downpour of crimson.
Brighton stared at the scene, too terrified to even breathe.
Before the massive chunks of the worm's body could fall into the pit below, they were suspended mid-air.
And there, floating above the battlefield, was Kassadin, once again in his golden armor.
Brighton, his mind reeling, gasped for breath as a single, unbelievable thought surfaced in his mind.
"The apocalypse-worm... it's dead?"
When he first saw the beast, having grown to over a thousand meters in size, Brighton had been convinced that only a planetary orbital cannon could stop it. And even then, he hadn't been sure it would work.
But now, it had been slain—by a single man. Or rather, Brighton wondered, was this Kassadin even human?
Though Brighton hadn't seen the battle clearly, he had seen enough to know that Kassadin had transformed into a hundred-meter-tall shadow—a monstrous avatar of death.
Even as he processed his thoughts, Brighton watched Kassadin—still carrying the remains of the apocalypse worm—step through a swirling, purple void portal.
A voice rang out over the warship's external speakers: "The mother-worm is dead. Now, where's my billion?"
Brighton immediately glanced at the communication instruments and saw Kassadin standing outside the ship, waiting.
"Do you want... cash, or should we wire it to you?"
Brighton's voice trembled as he spoke.
Bounty hunters usually had accounts linked to the system, allowing payments to be transferred electronically. But some, especially those with bounties on their heads from one of the major galactic empires, preferred cash transactions.
"Just transfer it."
"Don't be afraid. As long as you stick to the deal, I won't harm you. If you ever need my services again and the payment is right, I'll be more than happy to help."
Harvey's voice was calm, soothing even, as he spoke to Brighton.
The motherworm had indeed put up a fight, its defenses proving tougher than expected. If he hadn't aimed to finish it quickly, a longer battle might have caused catastrophic damage to the surrounding region and triggered volcanic eruptions.
Letting these people live was important. Someday, they might become useful allies, even loyal followers of the Void.
And besides, the Void never left unnecessary destruction in its wake—only the right amount.
Had Harvey not underestimated the motherworm's defenses, he would have killed it underground, preventing the chaotic battle above. In that case, Brighton might not have been so terrified.