SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse-Chapter 63: Bloodbath

"What did you say..."

Throat Ripper’s voice dropped to a low, eerie murmur—too calm, far too still.

His expression darkened, and his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. From somewhere in the distance, faint giggles echoed across the lake, a cruel mockery that seemed to fan the flames of his rage.

His mind twisted.

Since when... since when had he been treated like this?

He was the Throat Ripper Demon of the Blood Fang Gang. A butcher. A nightmare. A name whispered by grown men with trembling voices.

Had the world truly forgotten?

Had they forgotten who he was?

His chest heaved as anger surged through him, hot and volatile. His pride—shredded. His dominance—challenged. His face felt like it was burning, not from shame, but from the sheer heat of his boiling fury.

Every fiber of his being screamed for blood. He didn’t just want to punish someone.

He wanted to annihilate.

He wanted to turn every living creature within sight into meat mulch—just to remind the world what kind of monster they had tried to provoke.

But Damien stood there, completely unfazed, regarding him like one might study an overly aggressive stray dog.

He looked him up and down with a faint, mocking smile.

"It appears brain is not the only thing you lack. Now hand over all the toads."

The words were delivered with casual amusement.

Insulting. Dismissive. Deadly bold.

A stunned silence swept across the onlookers like a crashing tide.

Before Throat Ripper could even blink, before his boiling wrath could fully ignite, his underlings burst out in angry cries.

"Arrogant!" freēnovelkiss.com

"Kill him!"

But in the very next heartbeat—

Boom!

A golden radiance exploded from Throat Ripper’s body.

It was like the sun had momentarily descended into the forest, igniting the air with molten fury.

His spiritual aura surged outward in a violent wave, kicking up dust and rippling the lake’s surface into chaotic turbulence. The oppressive pressure radiating from his body hit like a physical force—crushing, suffocating.

Even the trees at the lake’s edge groaned beneath the weight of his killing intent.

His eyes blazed with hatred, practically spitting fire.

No more words.

No more warnings.

"Die, you little shit—!"

He lunged.

His entire body surged forward like a charging beast, a golden blur tearing through the air.

His fist gleamed with a dense, deep golden energy—refined, potent, deadly. This wasn’t the wild flailing of a brute. This was the strike of a true Gold ranker with a terrifying foundation. Years of battle, countless lives taken, all condensed into this single blow.

The power behind it could shatter boulders, pierce walls, reduce Iron rankers to paste.

Even Silver rankers would hesitate to take it head-on.

And it was coming straight for Damien—fast, merciless, and roaring with enough spiritual force to tear the world in two.

Just as Damien seemed moments away from being turned into a meat patty, he finally moved.

A subtle shift of his shoulders—almost lazy.

Then, with a flicker of tension across his back muscles, he punched forward.

No techniques.

No fancy footwork.

Just a straight, brutal punch to meet Throat Ripper’s golden meteor of a fist.

From the distant tree line and jagged rocks surrounding the lake, gasps broke out among the spectators.

Someone scoffed.

"How stupid does one have to be to meet a Gold ranker’s attack head-on?"

Another voice sneered, "This kid’s brain must’ve turned to jelly. Even Silver rankers would dodge or defend. But this? This is suicide."

A third shook his head, chuckling bitterly.

"No wonder he wandered in here alone."

To them, it was already over.

Meanwhile, not far off, Akira and Selene stood side by side, watching the clash unfold.

Akira’s brows were furrowed tight with worry. Despite her earlier confidence in Damien, her fists had clenched without her noticing.

Selene, usually composed like a still pond, felt unease ripple through her chest. She shut her eyes for a moment—not because she feared his death, but because of the intensity of the confrontation.

Her talent hadn’t warned her, and that alone was reason enough to believe Damien wouldn’t lose.

But even so... watching him stand before that monster felt like watching a lamb face down a raging dragon.

After all things went wrong all the time.

Then, the fists collided.

A violent shockwave rippled out from the point of contact, shaking the air like a thunderclap.

One fist shimmered with heavy, condensed deep golden energy, boiling with raw, bloody power.

The other? It pulsed with a strange blend of grayish silver, ethereal and oddly subdued, yet dense... like a storm locked inside a bottle.

Everyone leaned forward, ready to witness the obliteration.

But—

It didn’t come.

Damien didn’t explode.

He wasn’t flung backward.

He didn’t even flinch.

Instead—

Throat Ripper’s face twitched.

A slight shift at first. Barely noticeable. Then a furrow between his brows.

By the second heartbeat, his expression had turned... strange.

His mouth remained open mid-laugh, but his eyes—his eyes were filled with the first hints of confusion. Then shock. Then something else.

Was that stiffness? Disbelief?

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face, sliding silently past the corner of his mouth.

The crowd fell silent.

The air hung heavy.

What had they just witnessed?

Why hadn’t Damien been blasted apart?

Why did Throat Ripper’s fist look like it had struck something unmovable?

Like he’d just tried to punch the side of a mountain.

Wirng!

Just at that moment, an earth-shaking shockwave exploded from the point of contact.

A deep boom echoed through the valley as the lake beneath them split into two equal halves, the water violently cleaving apart like a divine blade had descended.

Waves surged upward, suspended mid-air, droplets catching the light like shards of crystal before raining back down in a torrential storm.

Then—

a scream pierced the chaos.

Shrill.

Raw.

Like a pig being slaughtered.

"My arm—!"

The gathered warriors turned as one.

And what they saw stole the breath from their lungs.

Throat Ripper’s entire arm—from palm to shoulder—had exploded.

Flesh and muscle were gone, revealing a blood-soaked, golden bone, hairline cracks running along its surface like a shattered relic.

The wild, brutal Gold ranker of the Blood Fang Gang had collapsed to one knee, clutching his ruined limb. His face contorted with agony, he wailed like a child denied a toy.

Gone was the cruel smirk. Gone was the towering presence.

All that remained was a broken man, screaming beneath a sky that had suddenly turned deathly quiet.

The other three Gold rankers of the Blood Fang Gang stood frozen.

Their eyes—usually sharp and filled with killing intent—now reflected pure disbelief.

How...?

How could this be possible?

A mere Iron ranker had injured Throat Ripper. Not just injured—but crippled him.

Nora and Sora, watching from a safe distance, turned to look at one another.

They didn’t need words.

Both saw it in the other’s eyes—shock, and a rising chill in their blood.

They had considered attacking earlier.

If they had...

A chill ran down their spines.

---

"Damn, that hurts..." Damien muttered, gazing down at his own arm in mild surprise.

It hung limply, bone visible beneath torn skin. And yet, his voice was calm—more curious than pained.

"Didn’t even use full strength... still managed to survive the first hit. Not bad."

Even as he spoke, dark tendrils of energy curled around his limb.

His flesh stitched itself back together, muscle reforming in eerie silence, bone sliding back into place like it had never shattered.

His face turned cold once more.

Without giving the world a chance to catch its breath—

He vanished.

---

Boom!

The air screamed as Damien reappeared in front of Throat Ripper.

His punch moved faster than the speed of sound, creating a sonic vacuum in its wake.

To the onlookers, it was as if Damien hadn’t even moved yet—but to Damien, time slowed down.

Under the effects of Accelerated Cognition, the world was sluggish. Everything around him moved like snail.

He could see Throat Ripper’s face warping before the blow even landed.

Cheeks collapsing. Skull caving inward.

Eyes stretching wide with primal fear—

Then—impact.

BOOOM!

Throat Ripper’s head detonated like a watermelon smashed beneath a hammer.

Blood mist sprayed the air, and a headless body crumpled at Damien’s feet.

Water surged into the sky once again, the lake now a battlefield of blood and foam.

Before the echoes faded—

Damien was already gone again.

He appeared before the second Gold ranker.

A second boom.

Then the third.

And the fourth.

Each explosion was punctuated by the brutal clarity of a man who didn’t hesitate—who didn’t forgive.

Then—

Silence.

Only the gentle sound of falling water remained.

Four headless corpses floated on the surface of the shattered lake, steam rising faintly from the crimson-crusted wounds.

---

"What the hell just happened...?"

A lone voice broke the silence, trembling and stunned, pointing at the corpses as if questioning reality itself.

Damien stood still, cold water dripping from his clothes, his gaze indifferent and unfeeling.

Slowly, he swept his eyes over the forest, sensing the dozens—maybe hundreds—of warriors still hiding behind trees, rocks, and spiritual concealment techniques.

Then, he spoke.

"To all the warriors hiding... come out and pay for the damages you’ve done to the environment."

His words echoed through the ravaged landscape, calm yet menacing, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon.

No one moved.

Of course they didn’t.

Who would step forward after witnessing four Gold rankers die in the span of heartbeats?

"Hmph."

Damien’s eyes gleamed with cold light.

"I’ll count to three. If you don’t come out... don’t blame me for being ruthless."

He lifted one hand.

"Three..."

The forest held its breath.

"Two..."

Even the insects had gone quiet. A dead stillness hung in the air.

Akira’s voice came, soft and cautious.

"What are you doing, Crown Prince...?"

But Damien didn’t even look back.

"One."

A deep, mechanical hum filled his palm. Power gathered like the eye of a storm.

And then—