Primordial God Of Time

Just as before, Alger was the first to strike. Without hesitation, he turned on his own friend, cutting him down in a single brutal motion. The sound of steel meeting flesh echoed sharply through the air, followed by the heavy thud of a lifeless body hitting the ground.

The battlefield erupted into chaos. Shouts of rage, screams of pain, and the clash of weapons rose together in a deafening wave. Sparks flew as blades met, and the metallic tang of blood began to seep into the wind. Dust swirled under the frenzied movement of countless feet, clouding vision and adding to the suffocating atmosphere.

Kranos shifted his gaze toward the members of the Scarlet Moon Organization. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes flickered with intent. He gave them a slight, deliberate nod before glancing away as though his attention had never lingered on them.

They understood at once. This was the signal he had mentioned earlier. Their time had come.

A silent current of anticipation swept through their ranks. This was the moment they had been waiting for. In their minds, they were already envisioning the death of the anomaly and the gleam of the treasures they would take as spoils. The mission had proven worthwhile after all.

They did not dwell on the possibility of treachery from Kranos. Their confidence came not only from the ten members who commanded the darkness element, but also from another advantage they kept to themselves.

With perfect coordination, they vanished from sight, their forms blurring before reappearing silently on the battlefield. The instant they materialized, the weight of their combined power descended like a mountain.

The air itself seemed to grow heavy. The combined pressure of ten God Realm cultivators slammed into the surrounding fighters. Those caught within its reach felt their bones ache and their lungs strain.

Panic rippled through the cultivators below. The few who had already witnessed the overwhelming might of these individuals reacted instantly. They changed direction mid-charge, abandoning any idea of clashing with the ten. Instead, they veered toward what seemed to be weaker targets—Kranos and his companions.

Others, ignorant of the danger, stood their ground. They raised their weapons and unleashed torrents of elemental energy in a desperate bid to defend themselves. Fire roared like a living beast, waves of water surged with crushing force, and jagged bolts of lightning split the air. Domains clashed with violent ripples, distorting space and bending the light in unnatural ways.

The sight was chaotic and mesmerizing, but it was meaningless.

The members of the Scarlet Moon Organization moved as one. They had fought countless battles together, and their synchronicity was flawless. Without hesitation, each of them unleashed their domain.

To the astonishment of those watching, the ten domains of darkness did not remain separate. Instead, they began to merge, layering over one another like interwoven shadows. The process seemed deliberate, controlled by some secret technique that allowed their powers to blend seamlessly.

Gasps of disbelief cut through the noise of battle. The merged domain exuded a pressure so intense that it rivaled the presence of a half-step God King. The air grew cold enough to sting the skin, and shadows stretched unnaturally across the bloodstained ground.

Those who had chosen to fight them now knew they had sealed their fate.

The merged domain surged outward. Darkness poured across the battlefield in a suffocating wave. The cultivators caught within its reach screamed as corrosive power tore through their bodies. Armor rusted in seconds, skin blistered and peeled away, and within moments, they were reduced to little more than drifting motes of dust.

When the darkness receded, the ground was unrecognizable. Thick black miasma twisted through the air, clinging to the earth like a curse. The battlefield in that section had become a forbidden land, one that none dared to approach.

It did not matter how many had stood against them. Before such might, numbers were meaningless.

Dread settled heavily over the survivors as the ten God Realm cultivators of the Scarlet Moon Organization stood in the aftermath of their slaughter, untouched and unwavering.

"How grand and terrifying," Luka murmured. His eyes narrowed, the solemn expression on his face betraying his unease.

He could not afford to linger on the thought. His own battle demanded attention.

Before him stretched a tide of enemies—more than a thousand cultivators packed so tightly together they seemed to merge into one mass. Their weapons gleamed under the battlefield's dim light, their killing intent palpable.

Luka sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. These opponents were nothing but a nuisance. He had no interest in wasting his energy on them.

With a lazy wave of his hand, countless identical figures appeared beside him, each moving in perfect unison. The number quickly swelled to a hundred. A shimmering spatial crack opened behind Luka, its edges glimmering like liquid glass. Without another word, he stepped through and vanished into a secret space.

The cultivators hesitated at the sight of so many duplicates, but determination soon hardened their eyes. If Luka was among them, they only had to destroy every clone to find the original.

What they did not realize was that Luka was reclining in comfort inside the hidden space, casually eating snacks while creating even more clones at a leisurely pace.

Once again, events mirrored those of the previous life.

Kranos turned his gaze toward the unremarkable young man in the distance.

The same scene unfolded as before. Mistaking him for an easy kill, more than a thousand cultivators converged on him. The young man's hands trembled visibly, his lips parting to speak in a shaky voice.

"There are so many of you… how can I possibly fight against this?"

Though his words were barely above a whisper, the sharpened senses of cultivators ensured that every one of them heard.

One sneered in contempt. "If you value your life, you shouldn't have taken the relic."

Another added with a mocking laugh. "That's right. Hand it over now and you might live to see tomorrow."

The voices grew louder as others joined in, each demanding the same thing.

The young man's eyes quivered, his murmuring continuing, each repetition louder than the last. "I didn't do anything wrong… I just want the relic for myself."

As he spoke the final words, his tone deepened, and a strange aura began to spread from his body.

The air thickened instantly. Moving became an effort, as though every muscle had turned to stone. The cultivators shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting in confusion.

"What's going on?" one shouted.

"Is this his doing?" another demanded.

The young man's voice turned hoarse. "I just want to keep the relic."

Then the full force of his gravity element burst outward. The weight of the world seemed to multiply a thousandfold in an instant.

The crowd's expressions twisted into horror. Bones snapped audibly. Muscles tore. Blood vessels ruptured under the immense pressure. Within seconds, the thousand cultivators who had surrounded him were crushed to the ground, lifeless.

Kranos, watching the destruction, turned away to face his own enemies.

The moment he did, a Divine Realm cultivator fixed a frown on him. Again, the man caught Kranos staring at him with that same peculiar expression. The feeling that something was deeply wrong settled in his mind.

Kranos, however, paid him no attention. The cultivators before him had not seen him act earlier and remained ignorant of his true power.

He had no intention of using the Hundred Ghost Heaven Cleaving Sword Strike. Instead, he would gather more time points.

His mind moved, and the ability of Time Absorption activated.

A mysterious aura radiated from him, sweeping across the battlefield. Time itself came to a halt within its reach. Every opponent before him froze mid-motion.

Kranos walked among them with measured steps, watching as their hair whitened, their skin sagged, and their bodies shriveled. One by one, they collapsed into piles of dust.

In a span of heartbeats, more than a thousand cultivators had been erased from existence.

The system's notification appeared before his eyes.

[Gained 2 million time points.]

Kranos dismissed the message without a thought and released the flow of time.

When movement returned to the battlefield, stunned gasps erupted. The sudden disappearance of such a massive force drew every gaze. Even the Scarlet Moon Organization turned toward him, their expressions filled with disbelief.

"Was that a space technique?" one of them muttered under his breath.

Whatever it was, they now saw Kranos in a new light. He was not a figure to be underestimated, and perhaps not any weaker than Kathryn herself.

The rest of the cultivators, having witnessed the destruction caused by Kranos, Aurora, the unremarkable young man, and Kathryn, abandoned any thought of attacking them.

Kevin stood amidst the chaos like a divine archer, bow in hand, his eyes scanning the battlefield with sharp precision. The techniques he had mastered from the Sovereign Star Sect trial had transformed his skill entirely. His bowstring thrummed, and ten arrows left it at once.

In the next breath, ten cultivators fell, their lungs pierced before they could react. Five of them were God Incarnate Realm experts, their eyes still wide in disbelief as they crumpled.

More astounding was Kevin's technique—each arrow splitting into ten afterimages, each one striking true.

Within thirty meters of him, the battlefield was a dead zone. Even the fastest cultivators failed to reach him. It was as though he could see every movement from every angle at once.