First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Luther stepped forward once, just a step. But the sound that followed was deafening.

An invisible force hit Xavier square in the chest. It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t aura. It was raw, physical might—like being hit by a speeding train.

Xavier’s body smashed into a wall and left a crater before falling to one knee. His breath hitched; his ribs screamed.

Still, he laughed. ”Not bad for an old man.”

Luther appeared in front of him instantly and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. ”And yet, you still smile,” he said quietly. ”Why?”

Xavier’s telekinesis flared again. Every shattered fragment of stone, every chunk of wall, every twisted bit of metal from their fight—suspended midair—suddenly shot forward.

Hundreds of projectiles slammed toward Luther from every direction.

He dropped Xavier just before impact and disappeared.

The explosion that followed engulfed the entire east wing. Fire, smoke, and pulverized stone filled the hallways. The shockwave blasted through the courtyard; alarms rang through the castle.

For a moment, there was only chaos.

Then, there was silence. Usually, that would be a good thing, but in a battle, it was as bad as one could imagine.

Through the smoke, Xavier stumbled to his feet. His lungs burned, his vision flickered. He had never used his telekinesis power to that extent and level before. His mind and body wasn’t strong enough to handle that pressure yet.

But he managed to steady himself. He looked ahead, breathing hard, Serpent’s Fang re-forming in his hand.

At least this time, maybe—just maybe—he’d—

The smoke shifted.

And Luther stepped out. Completely unscathed.

Not even a bruise. His clothes weren’t even dusty. His expression—unchanged.

Xavier’s smile faded. ”...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

From the far end of the hall came a voice, trembling but sharp—”Xavier!”

Reva.

She ran into the wreckage, eyes wide in horror at the destruction—and then she saw him. Her heart froze.

Luther followed her gaze and turned. The moment he saw the look in his daughter’s eyes—fear, concern, pain—something inside him clicked.

He finally believed it.

Xavier wasn’t lying.

”You...” Luther’s voice was calm, but his fury simmered beneath it. He stepped forward and grabbed Xavier by the collar, lifting him with one hand like he weighed nothing.

”You dare touch my bloodline,” he said.

Xavier didn’t struggle. His lips twitched. ”I mean... she touched me first.”

That was the last straw.

Luther’s fist connected with Xavier’s gut.

The blow detonated the air around them. The ground cratered. Xavier’s vision went white. His body flew back, lifeless, until—

Reva appeared between them.

She spread her arms wide, her face streaked with tears. ”Stop it!”

Luther’s next punch halted inches from her chest, his knuckles trembling. The energy burst out behind him instead, blowing apart the debris and sending the castle guards flying from the force alone.

Reva’s voice cracked. ”You’ll kill him!”

Luther’s jaw clenched, fury and disbelief swirling in his gaze. He looked down at her, his own daughter, shielding a half-conscious human with her body.

Xavier lay slumped in her arms, barely breathing, his hand still weakly gripping the Serpent’s Fang.

The sword dimmed, returning to its dormant form as Reva called his name over and over.

Outside, the moon had fully turned crimson, bleeding across the sky—reflecting in the shattered windows, in the blood that hadn’t yet been spilled.

Reva knelt beside him, trembling, her eyes wide in disbelief. ”Father, stop! Please—he’s not—”

Luther’s gaze slid toward her. His expression was calm, far too calm for the chaos that surrounded them. ”You want me to spare him?” he asked, voice cutting through the air like glass. ”He broke through my barrier. Destroyed my walls. Invaded my domain. And you think he should walk free?”

His steps echoed as he approached, the red glow of the moon spilling across his face. ”An intruder,” he said quietly, ”dies. That’s the law of the world, Eleanor. Doesn’t matter if he’s human, vampire, or god. You cross into another’s castle, you don’t get to walk out breathing.”

Reva looked up, tears welling in her eyes. ”He didn’t come to fight! I—” she hesitated, swallowing hard. ”I was the one who called him. I told him about the engagement... I didn’t know he’d come here like this.”

Luther’s steps stopped inches from her. ”Engagement?” he repeated, frowning. ”Why should that matter to him?”

Reva looked away. ”Because... because we are...”

She didn’t know what to say. They had a relationship with no name. She couldn’t find the right words to tell him.

For the first time, Luther’s composure cracked. His eyes narrowed—faintly glowing crimson, veins flaring around his temples as a pulse of restrained power rippled outward.

He tilted his head slowly, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Then came a quiet, venomous laugh. ”So that’s what this is,” he muttered, almost to himself. ”The great Von Stein bloodline, tainted by a mortal.”

Reva flinched.

”You lost your chastity to a human?” he said, disbelief turning to disgust. ”If you’d given yourself to your cousins, your brother, anyone of our blood, I could have forgiven it. Even one of the lowborn vampires—a guard, a servant—fine. But a human?”

He spat the word like poison.

”A creature who crawls under our feet, who dies in less than a century, who breaks under power they’ll never understand?” He shook his head slowly, as though the weight of her shame offended him. ”You’ve disgraced your blood, your house, and your name. You’ve brought filth into my castle, Eleanor.”

Even with the Blackwoods, he only agreed to marry her into their family because of the benefits he would get from them for the Steins. If he had a choice, he would rather die than mingle with humans.

Reva’s face crumpled, her voice breaking. ”Please, Father, he didn’t—”

Luther cut her off. ”He’s committed too many crimes to walk away. He trespassed, destroyed sacred ground, and touched what was mine to guard.” His eyes burned like fire now. ”He won’t die cleanly. I’ll have him fed to the hounds. Let him scream for hours before the end.”