The air in the Banquet Hall didn't just grow heavy; it ceased to be air. The pressure from Cain's [Sovereign's Presence] was so absolute that the wine in the Sect Masters' cups turned to dust. The starmetal table groaned, hairline fractures spreading from where Cain's hand rested.
Yet, the young man in white linen didn't even blink. He stood in the center of the storm, his wooden sword tucked casually under his arm as if he were waiting for a rain shower to pass.
"Level 0," Elena whispered, her grey eyes narrowed. Her [Law-Breaker] sight was screaming at her. "He isn't suppressing his mana, Cain. He truly has none. He's a vacuum... just like me, but deeper."
The Nameless Hermit looked at Elena and smiled, a genuine, warm expression that felt like a slap in the face of the room's tension. "Exactly, Little Mistress. You've learned to be a cup that empties the world. I simply forgot I was a cup in the first place."
Cain didn't wait for further philosophy.
In a blur of black and violet, he vanished. He reappeared an inch from the Hermit's face, his hand transformed into a jagged claw of concentrated Void-energy. This wasn't a test; it was a Tier-S execution strike designed to unmake the target's molecular structure.
Thwack.
The wooden sword moved. It didn't swing; it just... was there.
The tip of the twig-like weapon tapped Cain's wrist. The impact wasn't heavy, but the result was impossible. The violet energy around Cain's hand didn't explode—it snuffed out like a candle in a vacuum. Cain was thrown backward, his boots skidding across the obsidian floor, leaving twin gouges in the stone.
[WARNING: Void-Logic Overwritten.]
[Status: Physical Rebound Detected.]
"You're very strong," the Hermit said, adjusting his straw hat. "But you're fighting the world. And the world is very tired of being bitten. Why not sit? The chair is quite nice."
"I am the Sovereign," Cain growled, his white hair flaring as the scales on his neck bristled. "I don't sit because the world asks. I sit because I own the chair."
Cain lunged again, but this time he didn't use a physical strike. He released a [Sovereign's Collapse]—a 360-degree wave of gravity that should have crushed everyone in the room into a singular point.
The Sect Masters screamed, their protective amulets shattering instantly. But the Hermit merely sighed. He traced a circle in the air with his wooden sword. The gravity wave hit the circle and flowed around it, channeled harmlessly into the walls of the spire, which shuddered under the redirected force.
"Cain, stop!" Elena shouted. She stepped between them, her porcelain skin glowing with the silver static of the [Empty Vessel]. "He isn't attacking. He's reflecting. Every ounce of anger you throw at him is what's hitting you."
The Hermit lowered his sword. "She's clever, your Anchor. You've spent so much time becoming a 'Devourer' that you've forgotten that eventually, a stomach runs out of room. You've eaten the Azure Frost, you've eaten the lightning... what happens when you try to eat the Void itself?"
Cain paused, his chest heaving. The black marble of his skin was hot to the touch. "I am the Void."
"No," the Hermit said, his voice dropping its cheerful tone for the first time. "You are a man wearing the Void like a coat. And the coat is starting to shrink."
He pointed his wooden sword at Cain's heart. "You want to protect this girl. You want to build a fortress. But look at your hands, Sovereign. They are shaking. The evolution wasn't finished. You're leaking."
[System Diagnostic: Critical Sync Error.]
[Stability: 62% and dropping.]
Elena's heart froze. She looked at Cain's hands and saw it—a faint, misty dissipation at his fingertips. He wasn't just tired; his physical form was struggling to contain the "Emperor" stage power he had forced into himself to save her.
"I can fix it," the Hermit offered, tucking his sword back into his belt. "I won't kill you. I don't care about your empire or these frightened old 'Masters.' But if you keep trying to swallow the world, you'll pop, and the explosion will take this whole mountain with it."
Cain looked at the Sect Masters, who were watching his moment of weakness with a mixture of terror and budding hope. Then he looked at Elena.
"What is the price?" Cain asked, his voice rasping.
"No gold. No mana," the Hermit said, walking toward the grand window overlooking the clouds. "I want you to leave this spire for seven days. No Sovereign. No Emperor. Just a man and his Anchor. Walk to the Silent Lake at the base of the world. If you can make it there without using a single skill... the coat will fit."
The Hall went silent. To walk through the Ancient Realm as a "man" when every sect was hunting for his head was a death sentence.
Cain looked at Elena. Her grey eyes met his, and in them, he saw the same girl who had rigged a rusted lever to save him.
"We walk," Cain said.