Free Web NovelChapter 632: 632. Where’s All That Bravado Now? I Predict The Next Thing He Say Is Mercy!
The air didn’t shake this time; it glitched.
The third SSS class entity was a phantom of pure logic, a shimmering, iridescent lattice of geometric light that drifted through the courtyard like a sentient mathematical equation. It didn’t strike with fists or fire; it struck with truth.
It was an information predator, and its prey was Rex’s mind.
Suddenly, the world began to fracture. Rex’s foresight, his most trusted, most arrogant companion, began to scream.
"Lustful Villain! Behind you!" Mordecai’s voice cracked, a desperate, jagged sound.
He was on his knees, his face pale, his eyes wide with a terror that was no longer just about the monsters. He was clutching his chest, his breath coming in shallow, painful gasps. "The rift! It’s it’s closing on you! Move!"
Rex felt it. He saw a future where a massive spike of crystalline energy erupted from the ground, impaling him.
He saw the trajectory, the timing, and the sheer inevitability of it. His muscles tensed, his telekinesis coiled to parry the blow.
’Wait.’
A cold, sharp instinct, forged in the fires of the Blood Oath exchange, flared in the back of his mind. He paused, a fraction of a second too late to be "natural," but just in time to be "smart."
He didn’t move. He looked.
He ran a quality check. He didn’t look at the spike; he looked at the math behind the prediction.
The spike was too perfect. It was a beautiful, logical, constructed lie.
It was a probability pathway built backward from a desired outcome, a trap designed to make him react to a future that didn’t exist.
"Nice try, you shimmering piece of shit!" Rex roared, the sound a mixture of a laugh and a battle cry.
He stood his ground, letting the "spike" pass harmlessly through the space where he would have been, while his true foresight revealed the entity’s actual, much more subtle, physical lunge.
He pivoted, his Elemental Mastery lashing out with a whip of pure kinetic force, striking the entity’s geometric core.
"Lustful villain, stop! You’re fighting ghosts!" Mordecai screamed, but his voice was fading.
He wasn’t just watching anymore; he was suffering. Mordecai felt a phantom jolt of agony every time the entity’s information manipulation shattered or bypassed one of Rex’s massive elemental constructs.
It was as if the very connection between the summoner and the summoned was being torn apart. He tried to summon a final, massive shield to force Rex to retreat, to force him to stop, but the energy wouldn’t obey him.
The entity was corrupting the very concept of his command. Mordecai fell silent, his mouth working but no sound coming out. His eyes were glazed, filled with a helpless, drowning despair.
He realized then that his pleas were useless. He couldn’t stop Rex because he could only watch as Rex danced on the edge of a mental abyss.
The entity escalated. The "glitches" in reality became violent.
Rex’s vision began to strobe with a thousand different possible futures. He saw himself dying a thousand ways: crushed, burned, erased, forgotten.
The cognitive load was astronomical. It was like trying to solve a trillion complex equations per second while someone was trying to hammer a nail into your skull.
’Filter the noise... Find the seam... Trust the architecture, not the vision.’
Rex’s mind was a furnace. He was running a real-time, high-frequency quality check on every single scrap of data his foresight provided, discarding the "constructed" lies and clinging to the "native" truths like a man grasping at life rafts in a storm.
He was fighting a war of attrition in the most abstract sense possible. His physical body was a weapon, but his mind was the battlefield.
"You think... you can confuse me?" Rex gasped, sweat pouring down his face, his eyes darting wildly as he processed the cascading data.
A grin, bloody and terrifyingly confident, split his face. "You’re just a math problem! And I’ve always been a goddamn genius!"
He threw himself into the chaos. He used his telekinesis to stabilize his own perception, creating a mental anchor, while his Elemental Mastery lashed out at the entity’s shifting geometry.
He was a man walking a tightrope made of razor wire in the middle of a hurricane while solving a Rubik’s cube in his head. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
He was succeeding against all odds. He was achieving the impossible. He was outsmarting a god.
The silence that followed the dissolution of the third SSS class entity was not peaceful; it was heavy, a suffocating weight of spent energy and broken reality. The iridescent lattice of the information predator had finally flickered and died, its complex logic shattered by Rex’s relentless, novel frequencies.
Rex stood in the center of the devastation, his chest heaving, his skin slick with a cocktail of sweat, blood, and pulverized stone. He looked like a god carved from the very wreckage he had created. freēwebnovel.com
He turned his head, a jagged, triumphant laugh tearing from his throat as he looked toward the castle gate. "Still screaming, Mordecai?"
"You still trying to yell the monsters into submission?"
Rex’s voice was raspy, but the cockiness was undimmed, even in his exhaustion. He gestured vaguely at the smoking craters and the colossal, dissolving corpses of the SSS class titans.
"You were shouting at me to stop, to retreat, to be careful... while you were throwing every single one of your summons into the meat grinder!"
"You emptied the tank, man! You threw everything you had at the front line before the first rift even fully opened, and now you’re standing there with nothing left to hold you up!"
He laughed again, a sound of pure, unadulterated ego. "You wanted to save me?"
"You couldn’t even save your own footing! You played a hand you couldn’t control, and then you had the nerve to act surprised when the world started breaking!"
But the laughter died in his throat as his eyes finally settled on the figure by the gate.
Mordecai wasn’t screaming anymore. He wasn’t even moving.
He was on his knees, his posture slumped, his hands resting limp in the dirt. He looked hollowed out, a vessel that had been drained of every drop of essence.
The sheer scale of the magical depletion, the "gacha’s reserve" being pulled into the vacuum of the rifts, had left him physically broken. He wasn’t just weary; he was spiritually exhausted, his body having buckled under the weight of the metaphysical debt he had accrued trying to support the chaos.
Rex’s gaze drifted, his geological awareness involuntarily cataloging the carnage. The numbers were staggering.
Sixty-three SRs. Thirty-one SSRs. Three SSS class nightmares.
All of them processed. All of them dealt with. Three hours and eleven minutes of pure, unmitigated war.
The courtyard was a graveyard of elemental constructs and cosmic debris. The fire construct cast long, flickering orange shadows across the ruins, and the stone golem stood like a silent sentinel at the district boundary.
The rifts were gone, the dimensional pressure equalized, leaving behind a world that felt strangely, unnervingly quiet.
Rex felt a sensation he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t the roar of triumph or the rush of adrenaline. It was something deeper, something colder and more profound.
It was the realization of a limit being pushed and then surpassed. He had looked into the abyss of the impossible, and he hadn’t just survived; he had mastered it.
He had tested the absolute upper ceiling of his own existence, and he had found it... interesting.
He walked toward Mordecai, his footsteps heavy on the cracked pavement. Each step was a reminder of the sheer volume of work he had done.
He stopped a few feet away, looking down at the man who had watched him dance with death.
Mordecai didn’t look up at first. He was staring at the ground, his eyes wide and vacant, as if he were still processing the sheer, terrifying scale of what Rex had just accomplished.
Then, slowly, painfully, he lifted his head.
Their eyes met. There was no lecture left in Mordecai, no desperate plea for Rex to be more "reasonable." There was only a profound, terrifying awe.
He looked at Rex not as a friend or a comrade, but as a force of nature, a man who had looked at the end of the world and decided it was a playground.
Rex didn’t offer a hand to help him up—not yet. He simply stood there, bathed in the dying light of the elemental fires, a conqueror in a ruined kingdom, wearing a smirk that said he would do it all again tomorrow, just to see if the universe could actually make him sweat.
"It’s over... you fucking bum." Rex said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous purr that carried more weight than his previous roars. "The rifts are closed..."
"The gods are dead... There are no take backs..."
"The bill has been paid, and you?"
"You’re bankrupt from all of that gambling."
"And I’ll make sure that this time... There’s no mercy!"
