Bloody Odyssey

Chapter 64: Messenger

Arriving in Dax's lab, they were welcomed by a series of bots gliding forward in smooth, silent formation.

Sleek metallic spheres floated at eye level, scanning the group with soft blue pulses. One bot extended a thin arm toward the Wyverns' weapons, as if politely asking permission to inspect and mend any micro-fractures from the journey.

But the team couldn't be fascinated. Not now. Not when Dax was still out there, facing whatever had spoken from the sky with divine fury.

The lab itself was vast and cold—obsidian-black walls stretched upward into unseen ceilings, lit by thin veins of crimson light that ran like arteries through the stone.

Holographic panels hovered in mid-air, displaying streams of data no one bothered to read. The air carried a faint metallic tang, undercut by the low hum of machinery that never slept. It was safe here. Sterile. Removed from the chaos outside. And yet every second felt heavier because of it.

"What was that voice in the sky?" Mimi asked, turning to Zain. Her tone was calm, but her fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade.

Zain had no immediate response. He stared at the sealed gate portal, the black swirl now still and silent, as if it had never opened at all.

While Anastas's face was serious—uncharacteristically so—Ariel? Mimi asked quietly.

He replied with a single nod.

"I believe he is dealing with what we call a messenger," Anastas said, voice low and measured.

"But why was something like that here?" Hanna asked. "This is abnormal. The light signatures are insane. Why would a god send a messenger to Dax?"

Hanna paced a short distance, arms crossed, eyes distant. The golden spears, the holy fire, the voice that shook the heavens—they replayed behind her eyelids every time she blinked. Nothing about it made sense. Divine intervention didn't just happen. Not like this. Not without reason. And certainly not against someone who could swallow holy flames and keep walking.

Ariel let his guard down. "I haven't sensed the aura from the messenger since we got into Captain's space."

"Very strange," Anastas observed, stepping closer to the portal's edge. Compared to when they had heard it earlier, the oppressive weight was completely gone here. No lingering divine pressure. No echo of judgment. Just the quiet hum of the lab.

"So it all comes to one conclusion," Anastas said slowly. "Divinity cannot interfere with this place."

The words hung in the air like frost. Anastas was truly shocked. The realization settled over the group in layers—first disbelief, then uneasy understanding. If gods couldn't reach inside Dax's domain, then this lab, this entire space… it existed outside their reach. A sanctuary even the heavens couldn't touch.

While Mimi remained quiet with a confident look on her face, arms folded, chin lifted slightly. She didn't speak, but her posture said enough: she believed in Dax.

Zain stepped forward, taking the lead.

"From all I've seen now, I believe our Captain Dax is as powerful as an Odama realmer—and a powerful one at that."

His voice carried steady certainty. He had replayed every moment in his mind—the way Dax swallowed divine fire, the way he stood unmoved while the sky itself screamed in rage. Odama realmer wasn't just a rank; it was a threshold most never crossed. And Dax had stepped over it like it was nothing.

"This is a terrible situation," Zain continued. "If we truly want to be useful, we need to show our worth in this mission."

He spoke confidently with a knowing gaze that swept across the team. They weren't here to hide. They weren't here to wait. They were here to fight alongside the man who had just defied a god's messenger and walked away burning but unbroken.

Outside, under the same glaring sun, the battlefield had become a storm of light and shadow.

Killing series.

Dax whispered, holding Cil's handle in a drawing motion. Killing intent gushed out from his body—almost tangible, thick and red-black, coiling like smoke around him. It surged upward in violent pulses, painting the sky crimson. The color swallowed the sun's gold, turning noon into bloody twilight.

"You were warned."

"Touch."

Dax covered his blade with his skill Touch. The killing demon manifested behind him—towering, eyeless, its form rippling like liquid shadow given furious life. Six arms extended, mouth open in a silent roar, it loomed over him like a second skin made of murder.

With unnatural precision, millions of strings traveled toward Dax—thin golden threads falling from the sky like deadly rain. Portions of the heavens began to glow brighter, nodes of light gathering into massive, crackling spheres as if preparing to launch a devastating attack.

"I have to get serious."

Dax unsheathed Cil slowly from her scabbard. Instantly the killing demon vaporized into Cil—merging, empowering. The blade began to hum, a deep, resonant vibration that made the sky tremble. Clouds split. The sun itself flickered as though flinching. But Dax's arm remained still—not vibrating in any manner, perfectly steady, perfectly controlled.

He cut in a wide and dangerous arc. A devastating sound erupted from their clash—metal on divine light, reality screaming as the air tore open in jagged white lines.

To Dax's surprise, he was stabbed.

When did he—?

He looked down at his body. A long spear of pure light pierced straight through his abdomen, glowing with holy radiance. Blood steamed where it met flesh.

How didn't I notice?

Suddenly another one dropped from the sky. Just when Dax was about to cut, the bolt of light pierced into his shoulder. Then suddenly he combusted into white flames—holy fire eating at his skin, searing deep into muscle and bone.

Dax drank—swallowing it instantly, not giving it a thought.

Ugh.

How is this mortal nullifying my attacks? The being in the sky was enraged, fury boiling in its voice. It increased the bombardment.

Like rain, the spears fell on Dax. They dragged him around like a rag doll—impaling, burning, tearing. Each strike landed with divine weight, holy light scorching through armor, flesh, even aura.

Slowly Dax began to adapt. His movements sharpened. He twisted, spun, flowed between the spears—dodging with impossible grace. But from time to time he was still burned alive—flesh charring black, then regenerating in painful, smoking pulses.

Dax landed on the earth. With crazy speed he dodged each and every spear—moving like a dancing serpent, body twisting at angles no human frame should allow.

Impossible, the voice in the sky screeched.

Dax began to advance—swinging and cutting. With insane sharpness, Cil sliced through each spear, golden fragments exploding outward like shattered glass. The blade sang with every swing, a low, hungry note that drowned out the divine wrath.

It was taken aback by the sight.

Dax began to ascend—stepping on the spears themselves, destroying them underfoot. Each platform shattered beneath his boot in sprays of light. It was an unbelievable moment. He appeared before the strings of light falling from the sky.

He grabbed the string. While holding the strings, he fell to earth—then instantly began to pull.

What are you doing? Stop it, mortal!

The voice screamed, but Dax continued.

The ground beneath Dax cracked like a web—fissures spreading outward in jagged lines, stone splitting, earth groaning under the strain.

Veins popped from Dax's hands, muscles straining, tendons standing out like steel cables. Sweat ran down his face, mixing with blood. But there was a wide smile on his face—wild, almost joyful.

"Come down here."