Strongest Existence Becomes Teacher-Chapter 210: Monster

The desert planet was silent again.

Ash drifted through the orange sky, settling over broken mountains and melted stone. Craters stretched for kilometers, the land permanently scarred by divine conflict.

Zane stood calmly near Drakthar’s body.

The god of frenzy lay motionless, his divine flesh riddled with countless holes. Golden-tinged blood stained the sand beneath him, already losing its glow as his divine mana dispersed into nothing.

Zane looked down once.

"...Next."

He turned.

Only barren wasteland answered him.

No divine aura. No tyrannical presence. No greatsword shaking the horizon.

Zane blinked.

"...Okay."

Far in the distance, barely visible against the distorted sky, a single figure was flying away at full speed.

Vorathrax.

His movement was unstable, divine mana flaring unevenly as fear crept through his control. The God of Tyranny glanced back repeatedly, jaw clenched, eyes tight with frustration and unease.

"We can’t defeat that thing..." he muttered under his breath.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his greatsword.

"What is he...?"

Images replayed in his mind—Zephyros erased in an instant, Kaelos impaled by her own weapon, Drakthar torn apart like a toy.

He wasn’t a mortal.

He wasn’t even a normal divine being.

"He’s like one of the higher gods..."

Cold sweat ran down his back.

"Our mission failed... completely."

So It was true.

The massive white sphere meant to erase a world was really stopped by him.

He has this raw dominance.

Vorathrax pushed his mana harder, tearing through the sky.

"I have to retrieve Lilithara and leave as fast as possible."

His expression darkened.

"The higher-ups must be informed... immediately."

Only those above them—those who ruled the god realm from its deepest thrones—

Only they could deal with a monster like that.

Behind him, far across the wasteland, Zane watched the fleeing god grow smaller.

His deep purple eyes followed silently with no urgency.

Just a faint, amused calm.

On the far side of the planet—

The battlefield was unrecognizable.

Cracked ground stretched endlessly, scorched black and violet by clashing divine energies. Fragments of melted stone floated briefly before collapsing back into the dust.

Eirenyssa knelt on one knee.

Her sword of light was planted into the ground to support her weight, its radiance flickering unevenly. Dark violet energy mixed with faint golden hues clung to her body, bleeding off in unstable waves. Her breathing was heavy, chest rising sharply as blood traced down her arm and dripped onto the sand.

Across from her stood Lilithara.

The Goddess of Hexes was barely upright, leaning heavily against her golden staff. Cracks ran through the wings at its top, divine light leaking from the fractures. Her robes were torn, her body marked with burns and deep gashes, and even her divine aura trembled as she struggled to remain standing.

Both were exhausted.

The air between them felt tight, strained.

Eirenyssa pushed herself up slowly, teeth clenched as pain surged through her body. She raised her sword again, light gathering weakly along the blade.

"It’s over," she said. "You’re finished."

Lilithara let out a short, breathless scoff.

"Finished...? Me?"

Despite the sweat dripping down her face, her smile was sharp.

"You must be dreaming."

She steadied herself with the staff and lifted her gaze.

"You did damage me," she admitted. "And you’re somewhat my equal."

Her eyes narrowed.

"But you forgot one thing."

Lilithara’s smile widened.

"I’m not alone."

She gestured faintly toward the distant horizon.

"My companions should be bullying your overconfident little friend right now. They’ll be returning any moment."

Eirenyssa’s expression didn’t change.

Instead—

She smirked.

"We’ll see about that," she replied calmly.

Her sword lifted slightly, light pulsing once more.

"Who’s actually returning."

The two were about to clash again—

When Lilithara’s eyes shifted.

Something moved in the sky behind Eirenyssa.

A streak of divine light cut across the orange heavens, closing the distance rapidly.

Lilithara’s lips curled upward.

"...Looks like I was right after all."

Eirenyssa turned.

From the far sky, a familiar figure was approaching at high speed.

Vorathrax.

Lilithara let out a low laugh.

"He got bored of your little friend and left him to the other three, didn’t he?" she said mockingly. "How unfortunate for you."

She lifted her staff slightly.

"You should die on your own," she continued, voice dripping with disdain. "Or worse—die painfully."

Her eyes gleamed.

"He’s the strongest among us. His mana alone overwhelms entire worlds."

Vorathrax descended—

But instead of landing near Eirenyssa, he dropped beside Lilithara.

Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist.

"Come on," he said urgently. "We’re leaving. Now."

Lilithara froze.

"...What?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What are you saying?"

Vorathrax’s jaw clenched.

"Cast the spell," he said sharply. "The mission has failed. The other three—"

His voice dropped.

"They’re already dead."

Lilithara stared at him.

"...Wait. Wait—slow down."

Then she laughed softly.

"You’re joking," she said. "Since when did you start making jokes, Vorathrax?"

Across the battlefield, Eirenyssa listened quietly.

A small smile formed at the corner of her lips.

Vorathrax turned back toward Lilithara, panic flashing across his eyes.

"Do it now," he shouted.

"Or he’ll come here."

"Now!" Vorathrax shouted.

"Do it right now—or he’ll be here!"

Lilithara frowned, confusion flashing across her face.

"Who will be here...?" she demanded. "What are you talking about?"

Vorathrax turned toward her, veins bulging at his temples.

"Why don’t you understand?!" he roared.

"He—"

His voice cut off.

Lilithara felt something warm splash across her face.

She lowered her gaze slowly.

A blood-soaked hand had burst straight through Vorathrax’s chest.

Golden-hued divine blood spilled from his mouth, dripping down onto her robes. His body trembled violently as his breath came out in wet, broken gasps.

Lilithara froze.

Behind him—

A familiar calm voice spoke.

"You were smart," Zane said lightly.

"You ran away."

The hand twisted inside Vorathrax’s chest.

"But you weren’t smart enough," Zane continued. "You can’t run from me."

Vorathrax coughed violently, blood bubbling from his lips.

Zane leaned closer, his purple eyes curved with amusement.

"And besides," he added, "you forgot something."

Vorathrax’s jaw trembled as he clenched his teeth.

Zane smiled wider.

"Your friends, dummy."

He tilted his head slightly.

"You forgot them."

Lilithara’s breathing hitched.

Zane’s voice echoed softly behind her.

"So I brought them here."

Her eyes widened.

She turned her head slowly—mechanically.

To her left—

Drakthar’s corpse lay sprawled across the cracked ground. His once-frenzied eyes were blank white, his massive body riddled with countless holes as if devoured by something unseen.

"D-Drakthar..." she whispered.

Her gaze shifted.

To the right—

A headless body lay collapsed in the dust.

Zephyros.

Golden blood had dried along the torn edges of his neck.

Nearby—

A silver-pink trident stood embedded upright in the ground.

Suspended upon it—

Kaelos.

The weapon’s three prongs pierced her body in a perfect vertical line—one through the face, one through the throat, and one through the chest. Her lifeless eyes stared toward the empty sky.

Lilithara’s mind went blank.

Behind her, Zane spoke again, his hand still buried inside Vorathrax’s chest.

"You’re a bad friend," he said calmly.

"Leaving them like that."

His grip tightened.

"And you deserve punishment."

Vorathrax coughed violently, eyes shaking as he stared at Lilithara.

"You... stupid... bitch..." he rasped.

Then realization struck him.

His expression cracked.

"N-No... no... I’m sor—"

Before the word could finish—

Vorathrax’s body detonated.

Divine flesh tore apart. Organs, shattered bones, and chunks of meat burst outward as golden blood exploded in every direction.

Lilithara was drenched.

Warm blood coated her face, her hair, her robes. Fragments of divine flesh struck her shoulders and slid down onto the ground.

Zane stood there as well, blood splattered across his coat—though not a single piece of flesh had touched him.

He withdrew his hand slowly.

His smile remained.

"Punishment given."

Lilithara screamed.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH—!"

Her legs gave out and she collapsed backward onto the ground, scrambling away desperately, palms slipping in blood and dust.

"Stay away... from me..." she cried, shaking violently.

"...Monster...!"

Zane only smiled.