Chapter 72: The Impostor
Something about the wave of crushing force below caught Malrik’s attention — the effortless way the massive creature bent the battlefield to its will, wolves and stone alike buckling under an unseen weight. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to take it.
[ The Silent Observer Activated... ]
A new sensation washed over Malrik. His vision sharpened. His perception expanded. Information began flowing into his mind, piece by piece.
The mana cost was immense. He could feel his reserves draining faster than expected. Every second it remained active, his energy slipped away like water through cracked fingers.
Below, the battle raged on.
Wolves tore through the Morveth ranks with savage efficiency. Fenrir’s shadow clones struck from every angle, their claws ripping through chitin and flesh, scattering to hold the line against the rank and file while their maker pushed toward the one target that mattered.
Blood sprayed across the forest floor, painting the leaves crimson. One clone clamped its jaws around a Morveth’s throat and tore it open, while another disemboweled a serpentine beast with a single swipe of its claws. The Morveth screamed—a guttural, wet sound that was cut short as they fell.
Spiders descended from the trees, their webs wrapping around anything that moved. A hulking beast struggled against the sticky strands, but the more it fought, the more entangled it became. Within seconds, the spiders were upon it, their fangs sinking deep, venom flooding its system. The beast convulsed once, twice, then went still.
The Faceless creatures shifted and adapted, copying the forms of their enemies and turning their own weapons against them. One Faceless took the shape of a clawed predator and tore through its kin with brutal efficiency. Another became a serpentine beast and struck from the shadows, its fangs finding throats before anyone could react.
While the rest of the host ground through the horde, Fenrir himself cut a straight path toward the center of the battlefield, the Spider Queen moving beside him like a second blade. Her legs carved through anything that strayed into her path—three Morveth rushed her at once, and she cut them down in a single motion, their bodies falling in pieces—but her eyes, like his, never left the one Morveth still standing untouched amid the chaos.
But the Morveth boss was different.
He stood at the center of the chaos, unmoved. His red eyes fixed on the battlefield with cold calculation. He was massive — easily three times the height of the wolves tearing through his ranks — and yet when he moved, he moved fast. Too fast for something his size. It was the field around him, Malrik realized. Whatever it touched, it slowed. The boss himself it left untouched, so that against the crawling, sluggish world around him, he seemed to blur.
Then he raised his massive claws and slammed them into the ground.
The earth trembled.
A wave of invisible force erupted outward. Every wolf within range suddenly slowed. Their movements became sluggish. Their attacks lost their speed. Even the Spider Queen’s webs seemed to hang heavier in the air.
The boss’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
He raised his hand, and the ground beneath Fenrir began to crack. Pressure. Crushing pressure. The wolf snarled in pain, his legs shaking under the weight pressing down on him. Blood dripped from his jaws as he struggled to rise. His claws scraped against the stone, unable to find purchase.
Two more of Fenrir’s clones tried to flank, but they too were slowed, their movements reduced to a crawl. The boss turned his attention to them, and they crumpled to the ground, pinned by an unseen force. Their bones cracked audibly under the pressure—sharp, wet sounds that echoed through the clearing.
One of the wolves howled in agony as its leg snapped. Another lay motionless, its body crushed flat against the earth.
The Spider Queen tried to launch a web, but it hung in the air, heavy and slow, falling to the ground before it could reach its target. The Faceless creatures were barely able to shift their forms. The entire army was being crushed under the weight of a single skill.
Malrik watched from the ridge, refusing to lower the Silent Observer despite the strain it placed on him.
The invisible force blanketing the battlefield fascinated him.
A single ability had brought Fenrir, the Spider Queen, and dozens of Awakened souls to a standstill.
If he could claim a power like that...the battlefield itself would become his weapon.
Minutes passed.
His mana dwindled with every heartbeat, but he endured, patiently waiting for the skill to finish its analysis.
Slowly, the scattered fragments of information began to assemble.
Then, at last—
[ Name: Gravios ]
[ Race: Morveth ]
[ Rank: Awakened ]
[ Level: 50 ]
[ Potential: Epic ★ ]
[ Law Seed: Weight ]
[ Law Rank: Medium ]
Malrik’s breath caught.
This is insane. With Lucris, I can just... see all of this. Their name, their rank, their rarity, laid bare in front of me like an open book.
This has to be cheating.
Then one word settled over him, heavier than the rest.
Epic.
His stomach tightened.
The first Epic-rarity monster I’ve ever faced. And he’s still only Awakened rank.
Thank whatever’s listening for that — if he were Fallen instead, this would be a very different fight.
A smile slowly spread beneath his mask
Time to act.
He activated the next ability.
[ Impostor Activated. ]
[ Target Selected. ]
[ Available for Imposture ]
[ Body Structure ]
[ Skill: Gravity Field ]
Rarity: Epic ★
Description: Creates an invisible gravitational field around the user. All projectiles, thrown weapons, and long-range attacks entering the field have their trajectories distorted.
[ Skill: Heavy Domain ]
Rarity: Rare ★★★
Description: Creates a wide domain where every creature except the user gradually becomes heavier. Movement speed, jumping ability, and attack speed are continuously reduced while inside the domain.
[ Skill: Gravity Crush ]
Rarity: Rare ★★★★★
Description: Concentrates overwhelming gravitational force onto a designated target or location, crushing everything within its area of effect.
[ Confirm Imposture? ]
[ YES ] [ NO ]
Malrik pressed YES.
Mana surged out of him in a flood. Half of his reserves—gone in an instant. The information began to pour into his mind—the mechanics of each skill, the nuances of their use, the flow of mana required to activate them.
He felt the knowledge burning itself into his very soul. For a moment, his vision swam. His head throbbed with the sheer volume of information. But then it settled, and he understood.
Fifty percent of my mana. Just for copying three skills from someone still ranked Awakened.
The thought sat cold in his chest. If Lucris takes this much just to copy an Awakened, what would it cost to copy someone Ascended? Would I even be able to?
There wasn’t time for the question now.
Time to end this.
Malrik stepped forward.
He raised his hand and activated the skill he’d just acquired.
Heavy Domain.
His own gravity field erupted outward, crashing against Gravios’s. The two domains pressed against each other like invisible walls, neither giving ground.
The air around them distorted. Trees bent, their trunks groaning under the pressure. Rocks shattered into dust. The ground beneath their feet cracked and splintered, sending shockwaves rippling through the clearing.
The Spider Queen, catching sight of the opening, lashed a strand of acid-slicked silk straight at Gravios’s throat.
It never reached him — the strand bent midair, curving wide as though some invisible current had seized it, and struck the dirt several feet to the side.
Gravios’s head snapped toward Malrik.
His red eyes widened.
"How do you—" His voice was rough, disbelieving. "How do you have my abilities?"
"The dead don’t need answers."
Malrik smiled beneath his mask and pushed harder.
Gravios tried to reassert his domain. He pushed back with everything he had. The two fields collided violently, sending shockwaves through the clearing. Morveth and wolves alike were thrown back by the force.
"This is impossible!" Gravios roared. "No human can copy our abilities!"
Malrik didn’t answer. He just kept pushing.
Gravios snarled and poured even more power into his domain. The invisible pressure intensified, splitting the earth beneath them as ancient trees groaned before collapsing and boulders crumbled into dust.
The two gravitational domains remained locked in a fragile equilibrium, each suppressing the other. For a brief moment, the battlefield itself seemed frozen as the opposing forces canceled one another out.
Yet Gravios still held a slight advantage. Perhaps because these abilities were his by birth... or perhaps because he alone could wield a fragment of the Law of Weight.
"How are you doing this?" Gravios roared, his crimson eyes burning with disbelief. "Who are you? What are you?"
A slow smile spread beneath Malrik’s silver mask.
"Enough playing."
His free hand slowly rose, and a faint emerald flame flickered into existence above his palm.
I can’t waste any more time. This battle has already alerted the surrounding Morveth.
They must already be on their way.
The emerald flame pulsed.
Soul Rend.
Gravios’s body suddenly froze. His pupils contracted as unimaginable agony erupted deep within his soul, forcing a deafening roar from his throat that echoed throughout the forest.
Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
Staggering backward, he clutched his head with both hands as his domain trembled violently, cracks spreading through the invisible gravitational field before it shattered completely.
The crushing pressure blanketing the battlefield vanished at once. Fenrir and the others regained their freedom, while Gravios collapsed to one knee, struggling to breathe.
His soul hadn’t been destroyed.
It had been torn apart.
"W-What... did... you... do...?" he rasped, forcing himself to lift his head despite his blurred vision.
Malrik remained silent, watching him without a trace of emotion. Then the emerald flame pulsed once more.
Gravios’s body convulsed violently. This time, his soul shattered completely, and the light slowly faded from his crimson eyes before his massive body crashed to the ground with a thunderous boom.
Something caught Malrik’s eye as the body settled — small, half-buried near the wound, but unmistakably there. A glint of something that didn’t belong. Curiosity pulled at him, and he reached down and drew it free.
A stone, gray and shimmering, pulsing faintly with an energy he didn’t recognize. He turned it over once in his fingers, found nothing about it he understood, and pocketed it anyway.
This one caused my legion a lot of problems.
He’d have made a fine addition to my army.
Malrik raised his hand toward Gravios’s corpse.
"Arise."
[ Cannot Resurrect Soul. ]
Malrik frowned. It was the first time he’d seen that notification. He turned the words over in his mind, but no explanation came with them — no reason.
Malrik stored Gravios’s corpse inside his storage ring. This unexpected phenomenon was worth investigating, but not now.
There would be time to study it later.
He glanced back at the battlefield. Bodies everywhere. Hundreds of Morveth, slain in a single night.
Malrik looked over the sea of corpses, and slowly, a smile spread across his face.
I have a great idea.
He raised his hand, and dozens of spectral shapes answered the call — spirits drifting out from the shadows at his command. He ordered them to gather every corpse, and they obeyed without hesitation, sweeping across the clearing far faster than flesh and bone ever could. In moments, the field was clear, every body dragged into a single towering heap at the center of the clearing.
His own mana was nearly gone, drained by the night’s fighting, but the spirits needed little guidance to finish the grim work.
When it was done, a mountain of corpses stood in the center of the clearing—a monument to death, a message to whoever would find it.
Good. That should be enough.
He turned and vanished into the shadows, his army following silently behind him.