Nocthar grinned.
A suffocating wave of bloodlust poured out from him, thick and oppressive, perfectly masking the flicker of surprise hidden beneath it.
That punch earlier—
It hadn't been his full strength.
Not even close.
But it was still at least twenty percent of his power.
And yet…
This man had taken it.
And remained standing.
That alone was enough to earn a fraction of his attention.
Nocthar leaned forward slightly.
Then he moved.
His body blurred—not with exaggerated motion, but with a speed so refined it was almost invisible.
In that instant, he compressed the strength of his entire body into a single point.
His fist tightened.
Bones shifted.
Muscles contracted.
A series of faint popping sounds echoed—subtle, but deeply unsettling—revealing just how much raw power had been condensed into that one strike.
Then—
He released it.
A straight punch.
Simple.
Direct.
But devastating.
Steven saw it coming.
Barely.
His instincts reacted immediately, urging him to evade.
He tried.
But it was too fast.
Far too fast.
His body couldn't keep up.
With no time left, he crossed his arms over his chest in a desperate attempt to defend.
The impact landed.
A violent crash echoed through the room.
CRACK—
The sound of snapping bones rang out clearly.
Steven's arms bent unnaturally under the force, collapsing inward as the power tore through his defense without resistance.
The momentum carried him off his feet.
His body flew backward—
Before slamming into the bloodstained table.
The structure shook violently on impact.
He landed face-first.
The table groaned under the force.
For a moment—
Everything stilled.
Steven's body lay motionless.
A deep imprint of a fist was clearly visible on his sunken chest.
His arms were twisted.
Broken.
Useless.
It was obvious.
He hadn't been able to defend against that attack at all.
Nocthar appeared beside him almost instantly.
He looked down.
Calm.
Unbothered.
At the broken figure beneath him.
At the same time, he activated his ability.
Silently.
Naturally.
He reached out—
Not with his hands—
But with his will.
Searching.
Probing.
For fear.
But—
There was nothing.
Not even a trace.
Nocthar's expression shifted.
His grin faded slightly.
Replaced by a faint frown.
Strange.
Very strange.
Still—
It didn't matter.
He lifted his right leg slowly.
Deliberately.
Muscles tightening.
Power gathering.
Every fiber in his leg coiled with controlled force, amplifying the strength behind the impending strike.
Then—
He brought it down.
Violently.
His foot slammed into Steven's face.
The impact was brutal.
Bone shattered instantly.
Steven's facial structure collapsed under the force, twisting into a grotesque, unrecognizable form.
Blood splattered outward.
Thick.
Dark.
Spreading across the already stained floor.
Nocthar's grin returned.
Wider.
Crueler.
More twisted.
He didn't stop.
He pressed his foot down harder.
Dragging.
Grinding.
Crushing what remained of Steven's face against the floor.
The sound was sickening.
Wet.
Heavy.
Flesh tearing.
Bone breaking.
Blood spreading in thick streaks beneath the motion.
The room filled with the metallic scent of it.
Time passed.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Until—
There was no resistance left.
No movement.
No sign of life.
Nocthar finally stopped.
He stepped back slightly, looking down at what remained of his opponent.
A corpse.
Broken.
Destroyed.
Useless.
His expression turned cold.
Almost bored.
"What a waste…" he muttered under his breath.
His tone carried clear disappointment.
"There's nothing to gain."
He clicked his tongue lightly.
Annoyed.
"I can't feed on him."
His gaze lingered for a moment longer.
Still no fear.
Still nothing.
"I only gain power from those who fear me…"
He turned away.
Interest gone.
Completely.
His steps were slow.
Lazy.
Unhurried.
As if everything that had just happened meant nothing at all.
He walked toward his throne.
A faint crease appeared on his forehead.
Confusion.
Something didn't sit right.
He thought back briefly.
That pressure from earlier…
The one Steven had released after the first strike.
It had felt real.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Yet now—
This?
Pathetic.
A quiet snicker escaped his lips.
"All bark… no bite."
He shook his head slightly.
Disappointed.
"This was a waste of time."
His voice was low.
Dismissive.
He hadn't even finished his previous meal before being interrupted.
And for this?
Pointless.
He reached his throne.
Just as he was about to sit—
He paused.
Something changed.
Subtle.
But undeniable.
The air shifted.
The energy in the room…
Warped.
Nocthar slowly straightened.
His expression stilled.
Then—
He turned.