Building My SSS-Rank Universal Empire: From Trash to Cosmic Overlord-Chapter 197: Die

On the altar, the red moon on Vale’s hand pooled like liquid and flowed together with his blood into the stone surface of the altar, quickly getting absorbed.

Vale screamed harder because it was as if something was being removed from him—something that shouldn’t be touched, something that was part of his being. But he wouldn’t let it be taken from him, and even with his pain-filled head, he began to fight back.

Above him, Vorgaelor was sweating because he was using a massive amount of essence to do what he was doing, his teeth clenched. And now, Vale had begun to fight back.

The image on the wall wavered and flickered, becoming so lifelike it seemed as if those within it would reach out and walk again. A red mist boiled from the image and curled around the altar, glowing with translucent light.

On the side, Steelclaw was watching it all with focused intensity. Years of planning were about to come to fruition, and he could already picture the rampage of the monsters on the Clan. It was at this moment that something flickered in his side view.

A smudged shadow that shouldn’t be there.

At first, he thought it was Slya and Tiber trying to disturb the spell. He turned with his hand raised, lightning gathering at his fingertips with crackling tension.

What he saw made him focus and tense immediately.

It was a man with dark eyes and short hair, pulling himself out of the shadow of the unconscious Tiber.

"Really. It was harder than I expected to hide inside someone’s shadow for that long. Have you tried it, eh, Steelclaw?" Kren said as he pulled himself free. His shadow-made body turned solid and fleshy.

Steelclaw’s eyes narrowed. How could this person hide inside Tiber’s shadow without him knowing? Unless he had a very powerful spell of the same rank as Steelclaw. Or he was simply more powerful than Steelclaw. And he didn’t like either option.

"Who are you?" Steelclaw demanded as he fully faced him, the air around him warping as he began to build power.

Kren smiled. "I am Kren. I’m a messenger of an old friend of Vorgaelor. Don’t worry, I’m sure he wants to see me."

Without waiting for a response, he simply began to walk toward the altar. He had taken only three steps when he heard a crackling sound—lightning slammed into his figure. But he had already collapsed into darkness, disappearing into the scorched stone ground.

He reappeared behind Steelclaw, who whirled in a blur, setting the air sizzling with lightning. But once again, Kren had disappeared. He reappeared near the altar and looked up at the struggling figure of Vorgaelor.

"I should help you out."

Vorgaelor was startled by the voice, his concentration faltering, and the red mist boiled and churned. The Rift Lord cursed, his eyes flickering to the side as he stabilized the spell.

"Who are you?!"

Kren climbed onto the stone platform and looked down at the spasming Vale.

"This is the second time I’ve been asked that question today. Why don’t you ask him? He knows who I am. Maybe."

Vorgaelor didn’t respond as the spell began to flow naturally. Little by little, he withdrew his influence from it so the spell could work on its own.

Then he straightened. There was nothing more he could do now but wait. The spell would run by itself. Time and undisturbed execution were the only ingredients left.

Vorgaelor sniffed and looked at Kren.

"You... You smell familiar."

His eyes flared with green light, and Kren was sent flying so hard that he slammed into the wall like a nailed plank.

Vorgaelor did not move from where he stood. He simply snapped his fingers, and the air around him changed—it froze, then billowed outward, covering the altar and the platform with green-tainted force.

"I know that old man is going to do something, but he sent someone as weak as you?" Vorgaelor narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe his own words—that’s why he sent Kren flying before anything and then created a shield around himself.

For now, he would stay on the defensive. But once the spell completed its course, he could do whatever he wanted.

"I know what you want, but you can’t have it," Vorgaelor smiled. "My gift today is twofold. I will have the artifact, and I will break the pillar.

"I can’t believe you let him slip through your fingers. Again. Age must have dulled that old man’s wit," Vorgaelor said.

A rope of lightning snapped like a whip and lashed into the hole in the wall, curling around Kren’s neck. It sizzled against his skin, burning him as he was yanked out.

He hit the ground with a thud, his eyes glazed. He sniffed the air and smiled at the scent of burning flesh.

Steelclaw’s eyes sharpened, and then he jerked the lightning rope hard—a move that had taken the heads of many humans and monsters alike.

Kren’s head rolled a few feet across the stone floor, the face turned toward Steelclaw.

Steelclaw took a step back in sheer surprise.

He had killed many things that refused to die, but none had ever survived having their head separated from their neck.

But here was Kren—still smiling at him.

"It’s been years since my head was cut off. My last death was more gruesome, though. But this one wasn’t bad either."

Beside the altar, Vorgaelor watched with an impassive expression. The spell beside him had stabilized even further, and the way the mist had turned more into liquid than fog showed that it was nearing completion.

"Die!" Steelclaw shouted.

He raised his hand, and the room was filled with the sound of lightning. Thick silver bolts struck the ground.

Kren’s head and body were hit, melting and turning both into ashes immediately. The stone ground smoldered, and webs of cracks spread across the hall.

The air was still quivering from the sheer intensity of the lightning storm Steelclaw had unleashed.

Vorgaelor sighed. "You shouldn’t have bothered."