Chapter 61 Phantoms! 2
"To think it would be this easy!" The woman's voice, laden with amusement, slipped through the oppressive shadows of the alley. Her tone betrayed her joy, even if her figure remained hidden, basking in the thrill of her achievement.
In one of the narrow, forgotten alleys of the Imperial Capital, the day still lingered but the darkness of this part of town always crept in faster. This corner of the city, shunned by the light, had long been bathed in the unsweetened cruelty that only the capital could serve in abundance.
A figure, wrapped in shadows, stood still—her form only vaguely visible in the dim light. Her hand clasped something with rapt attention, a relic or object of immense power and importance.
Whatever it was, it had not only drawn her interest—rare for someone of her stature—but it exuded an influence so great, so potent, that even she was captivated.
Suddenly, her shadowy figure froze. Her ears twitched, catching the hurried, chaotic footsteps of a group approaching from the distance. Their rush and disorganized scurrying betrayed the urgency of their pursuit.
"She's here, boss! I swear she came this way!" a voice rang out, carried by the thick darkness. It was laced with fear, yet tinged with pride—likely one of the thugs who thought he had found her trail. If they could retrieve both the item and the thief, the reward from their "big boss" would be monumental.
But it wasn't just theft that marked her transgression. She had slaughtered four of their comrades in the blink of an eye, her ruthless efficiency leaving no mercy in its wake. The memory of those deaths clung to the man's mind. He could still see their heads, dismembered, flying through the air like weightless kites, before crashing to the ground.
Hiis skin prickled with cold fear as sweat beaded on his forehead, his steps faltering under the weight of his terror.
"What are you doing, idiot?! Slowing down when you're supposed to be guiding us?!" the boss's voice boomed through the alley, shattering what little peace remained. "Are you trying to disrespect me?!"
The man swallowed, the fear of his boss overtaking that of the woman they hunted. He dared not voice his thoughts—that his fear of her was far greater than his fear of his employer. His life could be ended just as swiftly, and more likely, by the thief they hunted.
"No, boss! I'm moving!" he stammered, quickening his pace to lead the group of seven deeper into the darkness.
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They trudged forward, unaware that their hunt was futile.
In a hidden corner, the woman's black eyes gleamed, piercing through the walls and shadows with supernatural clarity. She saw them—those foolish mortals who considered themselves predators—moving into the trap she had so carefully laid.
She was to leave no evidence, not when it involved her race and the Madame.
"Idiots," she whispered, her voice dripping with disdain. Little did they know, the predator they sought had led them here of her own accord. Why? Because she could. And they had fallen right into her hands.
"Now... die." Her voice was low, almost caressing, but it reached the thugs from where she stood, far from sight.
As her voice reached their ears, they dropped to their knees—each one collapsing in agony. Blood began pouring from their eyes, noses, mouths, and ears as if some unseen force was crushing them from within.
Even the boss, a Rank 17 Awakened—feared for his monstrous strength—was no match. He was reduced to a bleeding husk, his immense power insignificant before hers.
Before they could comprehend what was happening, their heads snapped violently, bending at grotesque angles as their necks broke in unison. All it took was a mere wave of her hand—a casual gesture of destruction—and their lives were snuffed out.
*Kaboom!*
Their bodies erupted, spraying blood through the alley, though none of it touched the surrounding structures. Every drop of blood was drawn toward her, swirling through the air like a crimson mist before being absorbed into the dark aura around her. The blood turned to raw, dark energy, disappearing into her ethereal form, merging with her essence.
There was no trace of the seven guards—no bodies, no remnants. Even their souls had been obliterated, devoured by the very air around her, leaving nothing behind.
She stood tall, her form untouchable to mortal senses. Though only a shadow of her true self existed in this realm, even this was more than enough to annihilate those weaklings.
The mortal world could barely handle the mere presence of her "shadow"—the projection of her true being. Her full power could not be unleashed here without breaking the very fabric of reality, not unless she wished to attract unwanted attention.
"It would've been nice to indulge longer..." she mused, her tone light and amused, reveling in the rush of dark energy now coursing through her. "Mortals... such an exquisite meal. Too bad I can't overindulge, not without drawing the attention of *them*."
She sighed, knowing full well that even with her subtlety, the gods might notice her if she pushed her power much further. Immortals wouldn't dare come after her, for even her shadow's aura was enough to reduce them to mere food.
The gods, however, were a different matter. Too much attention, and they would hunt her down relentlessly. Not even the Phantoms could afford to wage war with the gods—yet.
But one day, that would change. "The young lord will grant us full freedom," she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "One day, we'll walk freely without fear of gods."
She licked her lips, her ominous aura restrained only by the bracelets on her wrists. These enchanted cuffs, marked with the proud insignia of Obsidian Tech, prevented her dark energy from tearing the realm apart.
"I'm jealous of Song," she muttered to herself, a wry smile on her face. "That bastard can use his body in this realm freely, even if he has to restrain his powers. That jerk... he deserves his place as my second-in-command."
With that, her form began to dissolve. She disintegrated into flakes of black snow, vanishing into the shadows.
___
In the office, Song stood across from Pyris, looking unbothered yet raging uncertainty in his mind "We are Phantoms," he said quietly, his voice laden with the weight of their name.
It was a word that sent gods into a frenzy, their very existence shaking at the mere thought of the Phantoms—those who defied the natural order.
They were the second Universal Abominations, and their power terrified even the gods.
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A new force has come into play now, what are your thoughts? Lemme know in comments!