Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: Starlight Judgment Return to Reality

SOME SECONDS AGO.

Time resumed.

The fiery slash-rays descended like judgment from the heavens, each one carrying enough destructive force to vaporize everything in its path.

They struck empty air.

The entire hundred-kilometer attack zone—all 743 ships, all the hover cars, all the buildings, all 4.4 million people—was simply gone. Teleported away in the fraction of a second before impact.

The fire-axe rays hit nothing but atmosphere and ground. Explosions bloomed across the empty space, converting earth and air to ash. High-quality, nutritious ash for demon consumption.

But no human deaths. Not a single one.

The two Red Giant realm demons stood frozen, their burning eyes wide with shock.

”What—” the axe-wielder started.

”They’re gone,” the spatial manipulator hissed, his senses extending outward. ”All of them. Teleported. Five hundred kilometers away, on that mountain range.”

”But How?! Your Space Lock should have prevented any teleportation!”

”Someone broke it.” The spatial demon’s voice carried an edge of fear now. ”Someone shattered a Lock backed by 18% Space Rule comprehension like it was nothing.”

They both looked around warily, scanning for threats. Was there a hidden powerhouse? One of the Eight Supremes? But the Supremes fought openly, never concealed themselves.

Then who—

An instinct—honed by centuries of survival—screamed danger.

Both demons moved, raising defenses, burning qi, activating protective treasures.

Too slow.

One moment, the families aboard Stormchaser were bracing for death. The next, they were standing on solid ground, surrounded by thousands of other confused, terrified people.

”What—where—” Jake started.

Around them, chaos erupted as 4.4 million people tried to process what just happened.

”We’re alive!” someone shouted.

”How—”

”Someone saved us!”

”An expert! A hidden expert!”

The realization spread like wildfire. Someone—some incredibly powerful cultivator—had just teleported millions of people to safety.

”Thank you, mysterious senior!” voices began calling out to the sky. ”This junior is eternally grateful!”

Thousands joined in, bowing to empty air, hoping their gratitude reached whoever had performed this miracle.

”Is everyone okay?” Jake asked urgently, hands checking Lirien, then turning to the children.

”We’re fine,” Lirien said shakily. ”We just... we just survived.”

Seraphina was clutching Celestia, checking her daughter frantically. ”You’re not hurt? Nothing broken?”

”I’m okay, Mama,” Celestia said. Then, quieter, she turned to look at Runar.

Or rather, at the thing that looked like Runar.

She leaned in close and whispered, ”You don’t smell and feel like the real Runar. Where is he? Tell me or I’ll tell everyone you’re fake.”

The clone sighed. ”Fine, fine. I’ll tell you when I’m done dealing with the bad guys over in the distance, okay?”

Celestia’s eyes lit up. ”You have to teach me a powerful spear technique too.”

”Okay, I will. Now shush.”

She giggled, delighted at catching him.

The clone thought to itself: What kind of perception does she have? She really is a genuine genius.

Hidden in Folded Space - The Real Runar

Runar’s actual body remained concealed between layers of reality, his starlight form glowing with the ongoing transformation.

His consciousness separated a fragment to pilot the clone, while his main awareness focused on the demons.

Time to end this.

He extended his hand, and a katana condensed from pure starlight. Not metal—compressed photons and spatial energy woven into a blade that existed half in normal space, half in dimensional folds.

Beautiful. Perfect. Deadly.

He raised the blade and prepared two slashes—each one incorporating his Universal Fusion Algorithm, all 184 Laws flowing together in harmony.

The technique required precise qi control at the particle level. Every photon of light and qi, every atom of spiritual energy, —all coordinated perfectly.

Energy cost calculated: 17% of his total qi reserves.

Acceptable.

He released both slashes simultaneously.

Emberhorn—the axe-wielding Red Giant—felt death descend upon him like the weight of a collapsing star.

His instincts, honed by three centuries of warfare, screamed warnings. His combat experience identified the attack as beyond anything he’d faced. His survival instinct told him to flee, hide, do anything but stay here.

He tried to block with his star-core axe—a weapon that had shattered small galaxies, that carried Rule-level fire authority.

The starlight slash cut through it like mist.

Through his defensive qi layers—Red Giant realm cultivation, fortified by decades of tempering.

Through his protective jade charm—a treasure inscribed with Cinder Rule formations, expensive enough to bankrupt minor sects.

Through his obsidian-and-ash body that had been forged by consuming a thousand worlds.

Through his core.

The cut was so clean, so perfect, that for a microsecond Emberhorn didn’t realize he was dead. His consciousness remained active long enough to see the top half of his body separate from the bottom, the cross-section mirror-smooth.

Then darkness.

The second demon—Ashveil, the spatial manipulator—had one critical advantage: he specialized in Space Law and had some Rule comprehension.

When death descended, he activated his ultimate defense: Spatial Fold Sanctuary.

Layers upon layers of folded space wrapped around him like an onion—potentially infinite layers, each one requiring the attack to cut through before reaching him. A defense that had saved him against fellow Red Giants and even peak Red Giants, against techniques backed by 30-40% Rule comprehension.

Against Runar’s slash, it lasted 0.003 seconds.

The starlight cut through the first fold. Second. Third. Tenth. Hundredth.

Ashveil’s face twisted in horror as he felt each layer severing faster than he could create new ones.

Impossible! This attack—it’s— a lawwwwww.

At the last possible moment, his emergency treasure activated: Shadowstep Talisman - Supreme Grade.

Space twisted. Ashveil’s form blurred, phasing out of reality—

The slash missed by microseconds.

Ashveil reappeared two light-seconds away, already activating another treasure: Void Runner Boots - Divine Grade.

He didn’t look back. Didn’t check on Emberhorn. Didn’t consider revenge.

He just ran, burning cultivation to flee faster than light itself.

Must survive. Must report. A child—a CHILD—just killed a Red Giant with one slash. This monster cannot be allowed to exist—

The first slash, after bisecting Emberhorn, continued its path.

It cut through two Solar Flare demons who’d been behind him. Through seven Star Fusion demons. Through thirty-four Stellar Ignition demons who’d been pouring through the portal.

Through the portal itself.

The spatial gateway collapsed with an implosion that sucked in another dozen demons mid-transit, crushing them in the dimensional fold.

The second slash, having missed Ashveil, veered into the demon swarm.

Seventy-three demons—various Stellar realm cultivators who’d been spreading out in formation—were bisected in a single instant.

Total casualties from two slashes, less than one second of real-time:

1 Red Giant (Emberhorn), 7 Star Fusion 20 Solar Flare 107 Stellar Ignition, countless mortal realm demons and Portal destroyed

The remaining demons—approximately three hundred mortal realm survivors—stared in collective horror.

Then someone screamed: ”FLEE!”

The demon formation shattered. Three hundred Cinderfiends scattered in three hundred directions, burning cultivation to escape.

They didn’t get far.

Hidden in his pocket dimension, Runar calmly collected all the cores.

He couldn’t make a proper storage ring—didn’t know how yet. So he’d improvised: found a random stone on the mountain, hollowed out the space inside it using Space Law, then compressed it with Gravity Law until it looked like a diamond-shaped ball the size of a table tennis ball.

Ugly, but functional.

All the demon cores—from the Red Giant down to the Stellar Ignitions—teleported into his makeshift storage.

Runar pulled out the Red Giant core. It pulsed with condensed energy, glowing with ember-fire that represented centuries of cultivation fueled by consuming incinerated worlds.

He popped it in his mouth like candy.

His Universal Refinement Physique activated immediately, breaking down the core with 99.9% efficiency. The energy flooded his system—not violently, but in a controlled surge that his cultivation technique managed perfectly.

His background processes were still running: Elemental Body Tempering, Conceptual Body Tempering, Law evolution transformation.

Now his breakthrough accelerated.

The 10th orbital sphere in his dantian finished condensing. Then the 11th. 12th. 15th. 20th.

The breakthrough momentum built like an avalanche.

50th. 100th. 150th.

And still increasing.

Each sphere requires twice the energy of the previous one, Runar noted clinically. But the demon core is providing more than enough. And my body tempering is expanding my capacity even as I cultivate.

The battle stimulus, the Law evolution, the tempering techniques—everything was working together to push his limits.

Meanwhile, Ashveil fled through space at faster-than-light speeds, his escape technique burning through his cultivation reserves like fire through dry grass.

Just have to reach the rally point. Report this to Lord Ashclaw. Let him know about this monster. This seven-year-old nightmare who kills Red Giants with single slashes—

He passed Marsus. Jupitus. Approaching the sun.

Behind him, hidden from all senses, Runar entered the Comprehension Space for just a few seconds.

I need a flight technique. Something that can catch him.

With his mastered Laws and enlightened state, designing the technique took mere minutes of subjective time.

Starlight Step - Supreme Grade

A movement technique that converted his body partially into light, allowing FTL travel with perfect control. Not teleportation—actual movement through space at relativistic speeds.

Runar returned his consciousness to reality, activated the technique, and accelerated.

Ashveil had just passed the sun when he sensed something behind him.

He turned and his ember-eyes widened in horror.

The child. The glowing, starlight child. Floating in the void of space, katana in hand, looking at him with those cosmic eyes.

”You—” Ashveil’s voice cracked. ”How—”

Rage exploded through him.

This was humiliating. Pathetic. A Red Giant realm Cinderfiend—a demon who’d conquered dozens of worlds, who’d lived three centuries, who’d mastered 18% of Space Rule—reduced to fleeing from a child who looked seven years old.

”Unacceptable,” Ashveil snarled.

He began burning his life force. His obsidian body cracked deeper, ember-veins blazing brighter. Power surged—a Red Giant burning their life was briefly as strong as a weak+ Supernova cultivator.

I’ll take you with me, monster. Even if it costs my life, I’ll ensure you don’t threaten my race.

”If I can’t escape,” Ashveil said, his form swelling with power, ”then we both die here.”

The battle begun.

They clashed at lightspeed.

Runar suppressed himself deliberately—he wanted to practice, to test his combat techniques in real battle conditions.

For long range, he created Starlight Spears—compressed photon javelins that flew at relativistic speeds, each one carrying enough kinetic energy to pierce through solar systems.

Ashveil dodged, his Space Rule comprehension allowing him to predict trajectories and fold space to avoid impacts.

Runar adapted, sending dozens of spears from multiple angles simultaneously.

One struck. Ashveil’s obsidian shoulder shattered, ash spraying into the void.

”You’re using me as practice?!” Ashveil roared, rage consuming him.

He began burning his soul—the final, irreversible sacrifice.

His aura exploded outward, space itself warping from the pressure. He raised both hands and his domain erupted.

Domain Clash

Cinder Ruins Domain - 18% Space Rule + 20% Fire Rule

The domain expanded like a bubble of twisted reality. Inside of the domain, Ashveil was a god. He controlled space, dictated how fire behaved, manipulated the very laws of physics.

Runar felt the oppressive weight immediately. Like an ant beneath a mountain. Every movement required fighting against reality itself.

This domain could actually hurt me, Runar thought, frowning. Even kill me if I’m not careful.

Time to get serious.

He activated his own creation: Starlight Sovereign Domain.

But domains required Rule comprehension to form. Runar didn’t have that—he’d only mastered Laws to 100%, not broken through to Rules.

So he’d done something different. Something unprecedented.

He used runes as the underlying code.

Where normal domains were built on Rule comprehension, Runar’s domain was constructed from runic arrays—the universe’s programming language made manifest. Each rune represented a Law, and through his perfect algorithms, all 184 Laws flowed together to create a Rule-like effect.

The starlight domain erupted outward.

It was beautiful. A sphere of soft, luminous radiance where space seemed more real than real, where the fundamental constants felt more constant, where existence itself gained clarity.

Runar felt it—the sensation of being god within his own realm.

His domain pushed against Ashveil’s. The two realities clashed, intersected, fought for supremacy.

Then Runar’s domain began expanding.

”What—no—IMPOSSIBLE!” Ashveil screamed as his Cinder Ruins Domain was compressed, pushed back, overpowered.

Runar’s 184 fused Laws versus Ashveil’s 2 Rules—quantity and quality combining to overwhelm the demon’s authority.

The Cinder Ruins shattered.

Ashveil stood exposed in the starlight domain, his defenses stripped away.

What followed was destruction on a scale that defied mortal comprehension.

They moved at fractional lightspeed, each exchange creating shockwaves that rippled through space-time. Every clash fractured reality slightly, leaving cracks that slowly healed.

Runar practiced techniques:

Starlight Ray Burst - a shotgun blast of photon beams, each one capable of melting multiple solar syatem

Stellar Severance - a cutting technique that sliced through space itself

Radiant Spear Storm - hundreds of light-construct javelins raining down

Photon Blade Dance - close-quarters combat with his katana, each slash leaving trails of luminescence

Ashveil fought desperately:

Spatial Rend - tearing holes in space to create vacuum traps

Ash Storm Barrage - converting his own body mass into projectiles, regenerating from ambient destruction

Ember Coffin - attempting to trap Runar in a prison of Rule-level flames

Fold Assassination - attacking through spatial shortcuts, striking from impossible angles

They crossed light-years in microseconds. Each movement left distortions in space—areas where gravity behaved strangely, where time flowed at different rates, where the fabric of reality needed time to re-stitch itself.

Distant automated monitoring stations detected the anomalies and flagged them for investigation. Human observers saw energy spikes that suggested Supernova-level combat. Demon forces retreating from Telstra sensed the battle and wondered who could be fighting with such intensity.

After ten seconds of continuous combat, Ashveil was exhausted. His life force burned low. His soul had been 80% consumed. His body was barely holding together—more ash than obsidian now, constantly on the verge of dispersing.

But the child—this monster—looked barely winded.

”How?” Ashveil wheezed. ”How can you... maintain this... for so long?”

Runar had been using his particle-level qi control to maintain perfect efficiency. Every technique optimized. Every joule of energy used with zero waste. His qi fusion reactions generating more power than he consumed.

He could fight like this for days if needed.

”Thank you for the practice,” Runar said calmly. ”Now receive my final slash.”

Runar raised his starlight katana high.

He channeled everything into this one strike—all 184 Laws flowing together, coordinated by his perfect algorithm, empowered by his domain, executed with particle-perfect qi control.

This wasn’t just a slash. It was a statement. A declaration. A technique that existed at the boundary between Law and Rule.

He brought the blade down.

Starlight Judgment

The slash was beautiful. A line of pure radiance that seemed to cut through more than just space—it severed possibility itself, eliminating the timeline where Ashveil survived.

The demon tried to dodge. His body was already moving before his mind processed the attack.

But he wasn’t fast enough.

The slash passed through Ashveil’s position. The demon disintegrated—not exploded, not cut apart, but simply ceased to exist along that line. His body, his soul, his core—all reduced to fundamental particles that scattered into the void.

But the slash didn’t stop.

It continued outward, leaving Telstra’s solar system.

Through the Oort cloud—obliterating comets and debris.

Into interstellar space—crossing light-years in seconds.

Through a barren solar systems—multiple dead planets and a dying red dwarf, all severed perfectly in half.

Through asteroid fields that became dust.

Through empty space that briefly glowed with the slash’s passage.

Finally, after traveling for hundreds of light-years, the technique exhausted its energy and faded.

Behind it: a perfectly straight line of destruction stretching across the void. A scar on space itself that would take days to fully heal.

Runar sat down in the void, floating in space with his domain still active around him like a protective bubble.

His breakthrough was still ongoing. His body still glowed with starlight. The tempering techniques still ran in the background. And now, with another Red Giant core to consume plus all the combat stimulus...

He started pulling cores from his improvised storage and eating them like candy.

His Universal Refinement Physique processed each one instantly. Energy flooded his system in controlled surges.

The orbital spheres in his dantian condensed one after another.

200th. 250th. 300th.

Each sphere was exponentially more difficult than the last—requiring twice the energy of the previous one. But Runar had resources to spare.

333rd sphere formed.

He felt the wall. The same barrier that had stopped him before.

I can go further, his instincts told him. But it requires something special.

He reached into his system inventory and pulled out a pill that looked like a miniature universe—swirling galaxies visible within its surface, stars being born and dying in accelerated time.

Universal Origin Pill (Peak Supreme Grade, Flawless)

He only had 100 of these. They were meant for breakthroughs to the Cosmic Realms—Supernova and beyond.

Using one now was a gamble.

But if it worked...

Runar popped it in his mouth.