Building My SSS-Rank Universal Empire: From Trash to Cosmic Overlord-Chapter 199: A mistake

Purple light gathered and shattered the stone floor, bursting upward. The roof collapsed with a rumble, revealing the cloudy sky outside. The light continued and smashed into the shield around Vorgaelor, screeching loudly as it refused to collapse under the intense force.

Vorgaelor smiled, his eyes cold. "How are you here, old man? You should not be. The rule of this world is against it!"

The old man’s voice was like metal rubbing against metal. It made the ears throb. "Rules and laws can be bent, Vorgaelor. You should know this. And is it not what you are doing?"

Vorgaelor seethed. "Why now? I can give you the artifact. Just go."

The old man continued to stride forward as if the shield in front of him was made of water bubbles. He pressed against the green-tainted force covering the altar with his right hand and then he pressed, pushing his hand forward.

The air warped and twisted, and the shield shattered like cheap glass. The old man stared down at the unconscious Vale, ignoring Vorgaelor. "We meet, boy."

As if Vale heard him, he opened his eyes and looked at the old man. His eyes were red, crimson red, shining with a flood of reddish light as he was now gazing at the red moon.

Of course, Vale was unconscious, but even then, he stiffened and was dragged back by the sheer force of attraction. His eyes focused. "Mark Order?" His voice was rough.

He still couldn’t move, but he could turn his head. Everything was hazy with crimson. His vision seemed to overlap with a red flood, and the man standing in front of him was a tornado of twisting power, as if two or more entirely different types of power were woven together.

And in the middle of it all was Mark Order. It wasn’t the same red moon as Vale, but it was familiar all the same. Vale felt like it was the same inheritance he was holding.

Something rose up within him, a terrible hunger that turned his eyes blurry. He jerked against the force holding him. His face turned illusory, red darkness stretched his features long and flat like a snout, and then he opened his mouth—a maw filled with jagged fangs.

Vale realized he wanted to eat the man, and he didn’t care. He wanted to devour him!

The old man didn’t seem impressed as he gently gripped the maw that was trying to swallow his hand, then twisted sharply, yanking his hand back and taking the illusory maw with him. The maw twisted and then withered.

On the altar, Vale was back to normal, and the hunger was gone in him, but his eyes were still two orbs of red.

"Yes. Mark Order. Forbidden." The old man finally answered.

Vale jolted. Forbidden Mark Order? This man was the one Kren was working for, the one who wanted Vale to work for him? The one who knew a lot about the Forbidden Mark Order!

He opened his mouth to ask questions, but the old man was already turning away from him and toward Vorgaelor, who had been preparing a spell while the man was busy with Vale.

Vorgaelor’s figure twisted, and he multiplied. Five of him stood in a loose circle, and they raised their hands as one. Power flooded into the middle and created a green orb that made the space around it tremble slightly.

Then the orb began to spin, driving everything in the hall toward it. Loose stones ripped free from the walls and ground, drawn toward the twisting orb, disappearing into it in a flash. The unstable walls were stripped away into it.

Kren latched himself to the ground with the shadows that grew around him. He also caught Tiber and Slya as they went flying toward the green orb. Steelclaw used lightning ropes to bind himself to the ground as he was pulled.

Only those who remained at the altar were unaffected.

"What are you doing?" the old man said. His voice lacked any amusement, but there was almost a trace of it as he asked the question.

"You can’t bring all your power to bear here, right? Or else you would have easily resolved this," Vorgaelor said. The orb he was holding could not only suck something in. He spat. "If I don’t have this, then no one else will!"

He lifted it and then threw it. Not at the old man. But at Vale.

The technique Vorgaelor was using was that of attraction and rejection. For years, he had been using only attraction and only a little bit of rejection.

But now, all the rejection he had accumulated was released at once on Vale.

Everything slowed and seemed to happen at once. The old man reached out as if to catch the orb, but it had already dissolved into a storm of force.

To the side, Kren’s eyes widened as he covered himself, Tiber, and Slya with shadows and melted into the ground. Steelclaw blurred outside in a streak of lightning.

But almost not fast enough.

The hall exploded. The walls and stone ground were ripped free and blown away in a shattering wave of force that sounded like a sonic boom.

The hall was simply gone.

The only thing that remained was the wall with the image. The altar. Vale. The old man. And Vorgaelor.

Vale didn’t fully understand what was going on, but he had felt a wave of terrifying power press down and wash over him before it was suddenly cut off.

Purple eyes glinted beneath the cloak as the old man stared at Vorgaelor. He was standing still, surrounded, together with the altar, by what looked like an ordinary purple shield.

"It all ended when you let my messenger end the Rift. I don’t care about what you do. I only want the artifact. But you stood in my way. A mistake."

Then the old man reached out, not toward Vorgaelor, but at the image. His hand entered into the wall as if he were reaching into a pocket to pluck something.

The spell was complete.

When he removed his hand, he was holding an old lantern. A lantern that contained the red moon within.

Vale turned as if in a daze and stared at the lantern. His voice came out from somewhere he didn’t know. It was instinctive. He growled and pointed at the artifact, his eyes weeping liquid red light. "Mine."