Chapter 26: After the Dinner

His father shook violently, drenched from head to toe in cold sweat, his eyes bulging as red energy burrowed deeper into his tissue, turning his skin an alarming, feverish crimson.

Ethan channeled more of his crimson energy inward.

The temperature inside the man’s veins skyrocketed.

With a sickening sizzle, his internal organs began to scorch and cook from the inside out. Blood vessels ruptured en masse, causing thick, dark streams of blood to violently pour from his nose, ears, and eyes.

When Ethan casually brushed his fingertips across his father’s cheek, the cooked, liquefied skin sloughed off effortlessly under the lightest touch, instantly exposing raw, weeping flesh and gushing crimson pools.

The agony was beyond human endurance; the father convulsed violently, choking on his own boiling blood as he vomited thick clots across the table.

Finally, Ethan pressed his palm directly against his father’s chest. Thanks to the terrifying physical reinforcement of his Stonefish Physique, his hand acted like a spear.

Even through the charred, ruined layers of skin and muscle, his fingers punched effortlessly through the chest wall, bypassing the fractured ribs as if they were wet paper.

Reaching deep inside, Ethan’s fingers wrapped around the frantic, stuttering pulse of his father’s heart. With a swift, merciless tug, he ripped it straight out of the chest cavity.

"I killed you quickly," Ethan murmured softly as his father’s eyes rolled backward, life draining rapidly from his expression. "Consider this my final act of mercy... because, after all, you gave me the vessel to enter this world."

With a final shudder, his father slumped forward, dead.

Turning away without a shred of remorse, Ethan raised his hand and released a torrent of his Crimson Flame spell.

The fierce, destructive fire engulfed his father’s body, reducing flesh, bone, and chair to ash within seconds.

To cover his tracks, Ethan unleashed volatile bursts of energy around the room, slamming invisible shockwaves into the walls, shattering furniture, and carving deep, jagged scorch marks into the stone floor.

He deliberately shaped some of the blast patterns to mimic the high-velocity impact of water arrows and water blades—leaving behind deceptive forensic evidence suggesting that a fierce battle involving a second-level water mage had taken place here, cleverly masking his signature fire affinity.

Then he quickly set to work on erasing every single trace of the slaughter.

He gathered his blood-stained clothes along with any other bloody debris from the gruesome act, tossing them into a pile.

Channeling his crimson flames, he incinerated the garments and evidence completely, leaving behind nothing more than fine, gray ash that scattered harmlessly on the floor. With all incriminating proof thoroughly wiped out, he ensured his meticulously crafted crime scene left no loose ends.

Having finished his handiwork, Ethan turned and walked calmly up the stairs. He paused outside Arthur’s room; the boy was still deeply asleep, completely ignorant of the fact that his guardian and sponsor had just been erased from existence.

Ethan unlocked his own bedroom door, stepped inside, and headed straight for the bathroom. He took a long, thorough shower to wash away the microscopic specks of blood and soot, changed into a fresh, clean set of clothes, and finally lay down on his bed.

Slowly, his eyes began to flutter shut. Back in his past life within that desolate prison, he had barely ever slept, as his hyper-aware and tormented mind simply refused to let him rest.

The lower tiers of the dungeon constantly echoed with the blood-curdling screams of inmates, as if they had all lost their minds. Truth be told, living inside that living hell had pushed Ethan dangerously close to madness himself.

Yet now, reborn in this new life, he was finally about to drift off into genuine, peaceful sleep. He was certain that tonight would bring him soothing dreams rather than haunting nightmares.

Moreover, getting a full night’s rest was an absolute necessity, because tomorrow morning would mark his father’s funeral—where he would have to play the part of a grieving, sorrowful son in front of the entire town.

The next morning, Arthur woke up early. He headed straight to the small bathroom connected to his room—a simple rustic space where the bathing area and toilet were situated right next to each other within the same compact enclosure.

After finishing his business, he stepped under the shower to wash up. Usually, during the summer months, he relished the refreshing chill of cold water.

But ever since he had awakened his flame element, his internal body temperature had risen, making the cold water feel strangely jarring and uncomfortable.

Disliking the sensation, he quickly rushed through his bath, stepped out of the bathroom, and pulled a simple set of clothes from his small wardrobe to put on.

Expecting things to be routine, he assumed his dad had prepared breakfast for him and his brother before heading out for work, as he often did.

Arthur walked across the hallway and opened his door. Directly across from him was Ethan’s bedroom with the door shut tight. Pushing it open just a crack, he saw that his older brother was still fast asleep in bed.

Arthur called out softly from the doorway, "Brother, wake up! It’s time for breakfast."

Ethan slowly stirred, blinking sleepily as he glanced toward Arthur. With a calm, unbothered tone, he mumbled, "You go ahead and eat first. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just warm up some food later."

"Okay," Arthur replied, adding a parting reminder, "Just don’t sleep too long!"

With that, Arthur turned around and bounded down the stairs, anticipating a hot meal waiting on the dining table.

But the moment he reached the ground floor, the horrifying scene before him froze his blood, sending a violent shiver straight down his spine.

Scattered debris, shattered furniture, and deep scorch marks scarred the entire room. And right in the center of the wreckage lay a charred, mangled corpse—his father’s lifeless, decomposing remains.

A split second later, a piercing, blood-curdling scream echoed through the house.

Upstairs, lying comfortably in his bed, Ethan listened to the muffled shriek of terror below and let out a dark, serene smile.

"My dear little brother, the two of us are never going to be separated in this life—at least not until I’ve stripped away every single one of your fated opportunities. And if anyone ever tries to stand between us or tear us apart before then... I won’t leave them alive."

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