CHAPTER 306: CHAPTER 305 - HER REVENGE.

The creature clawed itself higher, its grotesque body stitched from corpses and wires, glowing veins writhing like serpents.

Its roar shook the chamber, rattling the bones of caged prisoners.

Vorun’s voice rose above the chaos, manic and triumphant.

"Do you see it?! Do you see the genius? Every tendon woven by hand, every rune carved into marrow, every nerve bound to metal! A body of perfection, stronger than dragons, hungrier than demons! My greatest masterpiece, born of intellect no god could rival!"

Raven and Siris did not move. They merely stared at the abomination, crimson eyes and icy daggers reflecting the writhing mass.

Vorun, maddened by his own brilliance, spread his arms wide. "Its heart beats to my command! Its mind exists only to obey! This is what thought creates when it sheds morality—purity of invention! Ahhh, sing for me, my Chimeric God!"

The monster shrieked.

Raven’s lips curved in something that wasn’t a smile.

"A god, you say?" He scoffed as he lifted his hand.

The dome of destruction energy pulsed like a living heart—then spikes of black flame erupted inward, stabbing through the chamber like spears. They pierced flesh, bone, and steel, burning everything they touched.

The chimera convulsed. Its roar broke into a hideous screech as its body ignited from within, veins turning to rivers of fire.

Its limbs flailed, metal and muscle splitting apart under the consuming black. It howled one final time before collapsing into ash, scattered in the dark flames.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Raven’s voice cut it apart, calm and merciless.

"This is why they say everything is useless against absolute power."

Even Siris sneered. "Some god it was, defeated by a mortal."

Vorun’s lips trembled. For the first time, he did not laugh or speak.

His bulging eyes flicked from the ashes to the dome’s glowing edges, and realization struck. He had underestimated—no, he had misunderstood. The scales, the claws, the flames... Vorun had no information on this boy.

He knew that Raven was strong, but not to this extent.

Heck, he had thought that Raven was dead until long ago.

So, with no information on Raven, he couldn’t plan against Raven.

His genius had always been the sharpest blade in the world, but here it had failed him.

Now, even his strongest masterpiece, which was made so it could heal any wound, was destroyed.

’I didn’t know destruction was that powerful.’

That was all he could think of.

As for Zephyr... He smiled—a slow, dangerous curve, like approval written in shadows.

As said before, he didn’t care if he died, but he didn’t want to be anyone’s slave—especially not this madman’s.

Raven glanced at Zephyr, then he turned toward Siris. His tone softened just slightly, though his words carried weight.

"Siris. Create a platform beneath him. Lift him into the air."

Without a word, Siris nodded, and her eyes gleamed.

Raven had told her to act as soon as he said anything because even a second’s delay meant giving Dr. Vorun some extra time to think.

The next second, the ground cracked with frost as she swept her arm, and an ice platform surged upward, carrying Vorun with it.

He thrashed, muttering spells, but Siris’s Cryovoid chains slithered around his limbs, binding him in place.

"Raven!" Vorun snarled, his eyes darting. "You think to humiliate me—"

"You’ll do nothing." Raven’s voice silenced him.

Then he looked at Siris, his gaze steady.

"He made himself immortal. You won’t be able to kill him. He won’t grow stronger from dying, either. So, don’t hold back. You can carve him, cut him, and destroy him as many times as you want. He’ll never escape it."

Dr. Vorun, who made immortal puppets and even granted Zephyr the ability to heal at an alarming rate, had also made himself immortal.

It was something Raven knew from the plot.

The madman couldn’t copy the function of growing stronger every time he died, as it would’ve made him soulless like the immortal puppets, but the healing factor was an easy job for him.

What he would never have thought was that the same healing factor would one day come to bite him in the back.

Because, as soon as she heard Raven’s words, Siris froze.

Her lips parted, and then, slowly, her expression shifted. For the first time, she grinned—a cold, sadistic smile that bled satisfaction.

"An immortal dummy... perfect." Her voice dripped venom. "I’ve been waiting for the right chance to test my new abilities. Guess you’ll do nicely, doctor."

She leapt onto the platform, daggers flashing in the dark.

Raven raised his hand again. The dome of destruction warped, folding in on itself until a second barrier formed around the ice platform, sealing Siris and Vorun inside. No doors. No escape.

Unlike last time, at this moment, he had no way to escape.

However, instead of panicking or trying to escape, the madman threw back his head and laughed, his voice echoing against the flaming walls.

"Yes! Yes! Hate me, break me, prove that my genius created you perfectly! My screams will be your music, my pain your canvas! Make me eternal!"

Siris’s grin widened as icy chains tightened, pulling his limbs taut.

"Oh, I intend to."

She didn’t feel uneasy at his laugh.

No, it was quite the contrary.

She felt excited because now, she had the chance to make his laughter turn into a cry of pain and plea.

The air filled with the hiss of frost, the flare of black flame, the manic laughter of a genius who finally realized he had built his own cage, and the gleam of Siris’s blade as she stepped closer to the madman.

Zephyr, on the other hand, sat motionless, his eyes fixed on the swirling sphere of destruction that sealed Siris and Vorun away.

He couldn’t see through the black-red barrier, but the sounds seeped out—the manic laugh of the madman, sharp and deranged, echoing like cracked bells.

Then—

Schlk!

The laughter cut short, silenced by a wet squelch that reverberated in the chamber.

A pause.

Then Siris’s voice drifted out, cold and casual.

"Ah... he died."

Another pause. The hiss of frost. The grind of chains.

"Ah, he’s alive..."

Vorun’s laughter exploded again, higher and more frantic than before, as if mocking his own immortality.

Zephyr’s lips twitched, not in humor but in something darker, and his gaze slid sideways.

Raven sat on a throne of stone conjured from the chamber floor, his posture relaxed, one clawed hand propped against his cheek as if he were merely watching a play.

Raven’s crimson eyes glowed faintly as he murmured, almost amused, "You were still alive, huh?"

Zephyr turned fully now, studying him. A second passed. Then another. Finally, his lips curved into a smirk. "Wasn’t it you who made that possible?"

Silence stretched between them. The only background sound was Vorun’s laugh bouncing off the barrier walls.

After a beat, Zephyr leaned back slightly.

"Make me a chair too. I’m not used to this body yet."

Raven didn’t argue. With a flick of his hand, the ground shifted, stone bending upward into a smooth throne beside his own.

Zephyr sat down without hesitation, his expression unreadable. For a while, neither spoke.

Then Zephyr broke the silence again, voice lower now.

"How did you know Vorun would revive me?"

Raven glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"Don’t bother denying it," Zephyr pressed, a wry edge to his tone. "You could’ve killed me—my soul included. You proved as much when you injured it. But you didn’t. Which means you knew."

Raven’s reply was a mere shrug.

"I wasn’t going to lie. But I don’t owe you an answer either."

Zephyr studied him for a long moment before leaning back, one arm draped lazily over his chair. His smirk faded into something more neutral, almost contemplative.

From within the barrier, Vorun’s manic cackling grew weaker, stifling into pained grunts.

The sound broke into ragged groans, each one harsher than the last. Chains rattled, blades scraped, and Siris hummed faintly as she worked, as if savoring the rhythm of his suffering.

Raven’s voice cut through it, calm but edged with finality.

"You know I’ll kill you, right?"

Zephyr didn’t answer immediately. His eyes stared forward, unblinking. Then, finally, his voice came—quiet, certain.

"I know. Someone like me shouldn’t be left alive if you want peace. I wouldn’t trust me either."

The groans inside the barrier turned into raw screams.

Zephyr’s tone hardened, sharper now.

"But I won’t go down easy. I’ll fight. To the very last breath."

Raven shook his head, his claws drumming idly against the arm of his throne.

"A wisp of destruction could end you. Above all, you’re not in a royal body this time. You’re weaker now than you’ve ever been. If I wanted to end you, there are countless ways I could do it."

Zephyr exhaled slowly, then gave the faintest shrug.

"Doesn’t matter. I’ll still go down fighting."

Another scream tore through the chamber. This time, it wasn’t Vorun’s laugh—it was pure agony. Siris’s laughter overlapped it, cold and sharp, like icicles breaking.

It was clear that Vorun was in pain now. He was suffering, but none of them could see what was going on inside.

Siris had made a promise to herself that she would make Vorun cry in pain, and she seemed to be standing up to it.

Zephyr’s head tilted, a rare flicker of amusement returning to his expression.

"You’ve found one hell of a girl."

Raven smirked faintly, leaning back.

"All thanks to my handsomeness."

The chamber shook with Vorun’s screams, Siris’s laughter, and the suffocating silence of two men who both knew their clash was inevitable.