I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 512: Even if you kill me

The shockwave from the strike was powerful enough that Warren felt it despite dodging successfully, the pressure wave making his ears ring.

They separated, Warren breathing harder than Pho.

Wounds accumulating despite defensive techniques. Pho’s Ice manipulation still hurt if it got close, regardless of barriers.

Warren’s left shoulder bled from where an ice shard had caught him during one of Pho’s attacks.

His ribs ached from a glancing blow that had connected despite his water barriers, the impact bruising flesh even through magical protection.

Multiple small cuts covered his arms and legs from frozen fragments that had gotten past his defenses.

Minor wounds individually, but collectively, represent blood loss and reduce his response time.

Pho showed damage too, his bluish skin marred by visible injuries.

Warren’s pressurized water attacks had created deep gashes across the demon’s torso.

Burns marked Pho’s arms where superheated steam had scalded flesh despite natural cold resistance. One of the demon’s ribs showed an unnatural angle.

”You’re strong,” Pho said, retrieving his ice axe from where it had embedded in the ground.

He pulled the weapon free with casual strength, frost spreading from his grip along the handle. ”Stronger than the other Council members I’ve killed before. You must be able to Disaster-class yourself.”

”I can handle disaster-class entities,” Warren confirmed, water mana building for his next technique. ”Your strength is impressive, but ultimately insufficient against proper technique and experience.”

Pho’s smile widened, showing more teeth. ”I’m not disaster-class.”

Warren’s hands paused mid-pattern, his concentration breaking as the statement registered. ”What?”

”I’m almost ready to break through to Sovereign rank,” Pho continued, his eyes gleaming with anticipation and pride.

”Another year, maybe two, and I’ll make the transition. My master says I’m the closest to a breakthrough of any entity under his service. But even now, before the official transition, I’m beyond what your classification system calls disaster-class.”

Ice flooded through Warren’s veins, colder than anything Pho’s magic could produce.

Sovereign rank.

The classification reserved for entities that transcended normal magical categories, beings powerful enough that standard combat doctrine became insufficient.

Entities at this level required specialized teams and coordinated assaults from multiple high-level combatants working in perfect synchronization.

Warren’s combat experience contained dozens of disaster-class kills.

He’d hunted powerful entities across continents, perfected techniques specifically designed to exploit disaster-class weaknesses, and built a reputation as someone who could handle such threats alone.

However, the Sovereign rank presented a distinct challenge. Entities approaching Sovereign status operated on a scale that fundamentally altered the dynamics of combat.

He required Mira’s expertise in fire magic to synergize with his water abilities, thereby generating extreme temperature differentials that would challenge Pho’s resilience.

Without Mira, facing a near-Sovereign entity alone wasn’t just difficult. It was potentially suicide.

The disparity in power was substantial, the depletion of resources significant, and the margin for error minimal.

Warren was processing a deeper problem. If he was trapped here fighting Pho while Mira engaged the Soul Warden, they were divided.

Fighting separate battles instead of supporting each other.

’This is intentional,’ Warren realized, his eyes tracking the perimeter where minotaurs stood watching. ’The Soul Warden separated us deliberately. Sent his strongest bound creature to engage me while he handles Mira. And I can’t reach her or call for help because...’

His gaze snapped toward the shrine, where Mira fought a mile away. His mouth opened, lungs filling with air to shout for assistance.

”Mira! I need...”

His voice cut off mid-word.

Not from choice or hesitation, but because sound itself stopped traveling beyond a certain radius.

Warren’s shout produced vibrations he could feel in his throat, air moving through his vocal cords, creating pressure waves that should have carried across the distance.

But the sound died within five feet of his position. It ceased to exist, absorbed by something Warren couldn’t initially identify.

He tried again, this time pouring mana into it.

Water magic could amplify sound and create pressure waves that would carry a voice across miles if necessary.

Warren channeled power into his vocal cords, enhanced his lungs with magical reinforcement, and screamed with everything he had.

”MIRA!”

The sound was deafening within his immediate vicinity, loud enough that the minotaurs closest to him flinched backward.

But beyond that five-foot radius, absolute silence. The scream didn’t carry or echo; it vanished as if it had never existed.

Warren’s eyes tracked upward, searching for the source of the interference with growing urgency.

Dark mana hung in the air above him, visible only to magically enhanced perception.

A cube, Warren realized, tracing its edges through rain and darkness. Each side measured two hundred meters, creating a contained arena that separated him and Pho from the outside world.

The dark mana wasn’t just blocking sound. Warren could see its effects more clearly now.

The rain fell onto the barrier and piled above them, slowly seeping off the edges.

He threw a pressurized water projectile at the barrier’s nearest edge, testing its physical properties.

The water struck the dark mana and stopped, hanging in mid-air for a moment before dissolving into harmless mist.

It was erased, as if the projectile had encountered a space where water couldn’t exist.

’Trapped,’ Warren thought, his tactical assessment growing grimmer by the second. ’Can’t call for help because the sound won’t carry. Can’t escape because the barrier will likely destroy anything trying to pass through it. Can’t signal Mira visually because the dark mana is distorting observation from certain angles. I’m completely isolated with a near-Sovereign entity and an army of regenerating soul-bound creatures.’

If this fight dragged on, he’d have to kill and re-kill minotaurs while also engaging Pho continuously; he’d run dry within an hour. Maybe less.

’I need to break the barrier,’ Warren concluded, his mind racing through options. ’Figure out how it’s being maintained and disrupt it. Or kill Pho quickly enough that I have resources left to escape. Or find some weakness in the construct I can exploit before my mana runs out completely.’

But even as he thought through possibilities, he knew the truth. Whatever maintained this barrier was beyond his immediate reach.

Killing Pho quickly was unlikely given the demon’s near-Sovereign capabilities. And finding weaknesses in the advanced dark mana barrier wasn’t exactly Warren’s specialty.

Water magic excelled at many things, but countering dimensional barriers wasn’t among them.

He was trapped and forced to fight while his mana depleted, and his partner remained ignorant of his situation.

Pho’s body began changing as Warren processed his tactical situation.

The bluish skin that covered his massive frame darkened gradually, shifting from ice-pale to deep navy, approaching black. It was like watching shadows spread across a surface, color deepening incrementally until Pho’s entire body had taken on the hue of midnight oceans.

Dark outlines traced across his muscles, following the natural contours of his physique but extending beyond them in patterns that looked like cracks spreading through glass.

The lines glowed faintly with power that made the air around them ripple, as if Pho’s very existence was fracturing the space he occupied.

”The dark mana barrier is my master’s gift,” Pho explained. ”Loryn maintains it from Floor 25, channeling power through portals to ensure our privacy. No one can interfere. No one can help you. This space is ours alone until one of us falls.”

He raised his ice axe, the weapon gleaming with cold so intense that the rain outside turned to snow before reaching the blade.

Frost spread from his grip along the handle, creating patterns that looked like frozen lightning.

His white gaze met Warren’s across the muddy crater, and the demon’s smile carried far more than mere cruelty.

”You’ll be lucky to get out of this alive. After all, even if you kill me, I’ll just come back to life.”