CHAPTER 43: FAMILIAR VILLAIN

The group walked with heavy steps.

The dungeon’s stone floor beneath their boots and claws was no longer just rock—it felt like something ancient, something smoldering, watching, waiting.

Every step forward toward the exit was a heartbeat of restraint, as if the mere sound of their breath might trigger the wrath of whatever force had turned the goblins to ash.

Elius led, his expression unreadable, five flying swords orbiting him slowly, silent as death.

Beside him, Ron walked low, raptor tail twitching, claws ready, eyes scanning with a primal intensity.

Behind them, Lina floated just slightly off the ground, half-ethereal, her translucent ghost-clones scattered like shadows that clung to walls, gliding silently, their eyes gleaming with wariness.

Klee hovered near Shiro, her healing orbs glowing a soft sky-blue, while Shiro pressed on despite the lingering pain from his severed clone connection.

The ninja’s face was tighter now, sweat forming at the edge of his brow—not from exertion, but from something else.

Tension.

Unseen. Palpable. All-consuming.

It pressed against their backs like a storm cloud of invisible pressure, a crawling sensation that made their hair stand on end.

None spoke of it aloud, but it was there, crawling like spiders up their spines, a silent whisper behind their ears telling them: you are not alone.

The air was thick with heat, but not from their own movements.

It was ambient, residual—like the lingering breath of something that had scorched through this very air a moment ago and left its presence behind, watching them retreat.

Then it hit them.

The smell.

A deep, clawing scent of burnt meat mixed with molten metal, as if corpses and armor had been melted into each other in some nightmarish fusion.

It clung to their noses, even their tongues, thick and cloying.

And then—

Elius raised his hand.

Immediately, everyone froze.

No one needed to be told twice.

He didn’t even whisper. His palm stayed in the air, motionless. And ahead—

There it was.

A figure.

A large figure.

Standing in the middle of the corridor where two dungeon paths met.

Its back was turned to them.

Motionless. Silent.

It stood twice the size of any of them—easily as tall as two grown adults stacked on top of each other, with broad shoulders and a hulking frame.

The edges of its silhouette shimmered faintly, as though heat distorted the air around it.

The light in the hallway flickered unnaturally.

Elius narrowed his eyes.

Was it... a person?

Or something worse?

His voice came low, calm, but firm.

"...Who are you?"

No answer.

The figure didn’t even flinch.

Elius shifted his stance, hand hovering near his swords. "Are you part of this dungeon? An NPC? A human?"

Still, no reaction.

Klee’s whisper barely carried. "Is... is it human?"

"I can’t tell," Lina murmured, her ghost clones fidgeting. "It’s not moving... it’s like a shadow."

Ron’s claws scraped the floor. "Say the word. I can pounce."

"No," Elius said immediately.

Shiro leaned slightly forward, his head tilted.

"I don’t feel chakra... nor ki... nor mana. Not even a breath."

"It’s not natural," Lina said. "I don’t think it’s alive."

Elius shook his head once.

"It’s human," he said with strange certainty.

Klee looked at him, wide-eyed. "How can you be sure?"

"I don’t know," Elius answered. "But I just... I feel something. Like it’s acting—pretending to be asleep or unaware. But it’s aware of us. It’s waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Ron asked.

"Maybe for us to move," Elius muttered. "Or speak again. Or attack. Something."

They stared.

The figure remained still.

Its shadow stretched across the ground, its upper body slightly tilted as if it had simply stopped walking in the middle of a motion. But now, it was completely unmoving, like a statue.

Elius stepped forward half an inch, tension humming through his legs.

"I said—who are you?"

Still nothing.

Shiro’s hands crept toward his ninja tool belt. Lina’s ghost forms slithered silently around the edge of the corridor. Klee tightened her fingers around a glowing orb. Ron bared his teeth.

A second passed.

Then another.

Another.

The tension clawed up their throats.

Lina swallowed. "Elius... are you sure it’s a person?"

"Yes," Elius said. "I’ve seen things pretending to be monsters. I’ve seen monsters pretending to be people. But this one—" he looked forward, "—is pretending to be something else."

"But it’s not moving," Klee whispered. "Even when you talked."

"It heard," Elius replied. "I know it did."

"What if it’s dead?" Ron asked, his voice gruff. "Burned like the goblins."

"No," Elius said again. "Look closely."

They did.

And that’s when they saw it.

Steam.

Barely visible. Rising slowly from its back. Not smoke. Not ash.

But steam—as if it were boiling from the inside out.

Their eyes widened.

Shiro slowly exhaled. "That’s not normal."

Klee backed up a step, her orb flickering.

Then, just as Lina was about to whisper something again—

It moved.

Slight.

Almost imperceptible.

Its head twitched a bit, cocking sideways.

Then it spoke.

A deep, sluggish voice, distorted like molten metal being stretched over drums.

"Huh...?"

Their blood froze.

The thing turned its head, slightly, just enough for them to see the edge of its chin—melted, warped, skin fused like slag.

"Who... is that?"

Its voice cracked, as if unused.

"I... was... having a nap."

The sentence echoed unnaturally across the corridor, as though the walls themselves shivered from the sound.

Elius didn’t move.

Neither did anyone else.

The thing wasn’t just alive.

It was aware.

And now...

It was awake.

Elius narrowed his eyes.

His hand didn’t move, but his five floating swords shifted position ever so slightly, angling themselves with precise lethality—hovering just enough to block, parry, or impale at a flicker of thought.

Around him, the others took steady steps behind, watching in silence, each of them a breath away from breaking into motion.

But Elius held the tension firm.

Not yet.

He felt it.

Something wasn’t right.

And then, his voice came—low and calm, yet laced with a sharp edge.

"Don’t lie," Elius said slowly. "I know you’re not napping."

The giant figure remained unmoving, still bent over, steam rising lazily off its body like smoke from an overboiled pot.

"I can see it in your spine," Elius continued, his gaze narrowing. "There’s no looseness in your frame. No slack in your shoulders. You’re not sleeping. You’re crouched. Waiting. Like a spring held down by an unseen hand."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of the stranger’s warped lips.

Elius stepped closer, speaking with calculated intensity, his voice not rising but gaining weight.

"You were never asleep," he said. "You were listening to our steps. You felt us coming. You knew the moment my party crossed that last corner. You’ve been waiting for us to say something. Waiting for a cue. A word. A breath. Anything to give you permission to move."

The figure didn’t respond immediately. But a slight twitch of the shoulder revealed something—an almost childlike embarrassment.

"You hid in plain sight. Let the fear creep in. Let us doubt. That’s psychological warfare. That’s a mind trained for killing."

Elius’s five swords spun once, a metallic hum vibrating briefly.

"You’re not here by chance. You came to this place on your own."

The figure chuckled low.

Then, as if all pretense had melted away, he turned fully.

The heat that radiated off his massive frame suddenly felt alive.

.The very air shifted, thick with scorched metal and molten rock. His skin was darkened and veined with glowing red cracks. His eyes shimmered like molten lava behind a cracked shell of blackened flesh.

And now, he smiled.

"Astute," he said, with a voice that grated like embers against stone. "It seems... I can no longer hide."

Elius’s gaze sharpened. "Who are you? Why are you waiting here?"

The man—no, the thing—sighed, as though the entire act of speaking was a burden.

"I don’t know, but I didn’t come here on my own," he said, in a strange mix of truth and madness. "Someone brought me here..."

He chuckled again, this time dry and hollow, like smoke rising from a grave.

"I was in the middle of a kill," he continued. "F-ranked heroes. Young. Stupid. Weak. But plentiful. I was going to end them all. Clean. Satisfying."

He paused.

"Then..."

His glowing fingers flexed slowly, fire hissing from between his knuckles.

"...someone took me."

The group remained still.

Elius felt a thread of sweat roll down his back.

"Just like that. The sky cracked open. The city vanished. I was standing over them, and then bam!" He spread his arms wide. "This place."

"And all I heard—all I heard—was a voice. A man. A whisper. Maybe a ghost. Maybe a god. I don’t know."

He leaned closer, eyes wide now, smile stretching unnaturally.

"He said: ’Kill everyone in this place, and I will reveal myself.’"

Klee’s hand tightened around her glowing staff. Lina’s ghost forms began to multiply behind her, restless and twitching.

Elius’s voice was flat now. "So you waited here for days. For someone to come."

"Not just someone," the large man said with a crazed grin. "Someone worthy. F-rankers? Please. I could melt their eyes with a flick of my thumb."

He pressed a finger to his temple, tapping it manically. "I needed E-rankers. You see—rank rules. Rank binds us. Rank defines us. Kikikiiki!"

Elius folded his arms. "So you’re blindly following the orders of a voice you don’t even understand. Like a dog?"

The figure nodded. No shame. No hesitation.

"Yes," he said proudly. "Yes, I am."

Elius raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

And now—now—the madness began to surface in earnest.

The man’s voice rose. His eyes twitched. His feet began to burn small molten craters into the dungeon floor.

"Because," he snarled, "I want more."

His arms trembled with unspent fury.

"I crave strength. I crave the thrill of being crushed. The ecstasy of being on the brink of death. Only there, in that moment of annihilation... can one transcend."

He slammed his fist into his chest. Sparks burst from his skin.

"I’ve eaten fire. I’ve swallowed sunsteel. I’ve slept in volcanoes, screaming at the gods to make me melt."

Ron flinched slightly. Klee took a step back.

"But nothing satisfies," the man said, face contorting. "Not until I fight someone strong. Someone clever. Someone arrogant."

His eyes flicked to Elius with maniacal glee.

Elius said nothing, but inside, he was calculating.

There was no reasonable explanation for how a villain had entered this dimensional rift.

It had been constructed by the Academy’s system, regulated and simulated.

The only way in should have been through the Academy’s portal ring network.

Unless... something had changed the mechanics of this rift.

Unless the rift itself was rewired.

Elius frowned. His thoughts spiraled. Was this connected to Radiant Man? Was this his doing? Or something worse?

The man stood tall now, proud, like a warrior at the gates of his throne room.

Elius’s gaze returned to him.

"And who," he asked, voice razor-sharp, "are you?"

The man froze.

Then, laughter erupted from him.

Wild. Echoing. Mad.

It rolled off the dungeon walls like an avalanche of fire and brimstone.

"You speak with such arrogance!" he bellowed. "I like you!"

He spread his arms, flame bursting from his shoulders like wings of searing light.

"I am LAVA SCISSOR!"

The name echoed like a furnace’s roar.

He struck a pose, fists raised high.

"I am the Molten Executioner!"

"I am the Blazing Blade of the Under-Ranks!"

"I am the Volcano Who Walks!"

"I am the Ember That Will Set the World on Fire!"

He pointed at Elius with a flaming hand.

"And I am the one who will rise from E-Rank to S-Rank by eating people like YOU!"

His body fully ignited, turning into a human-shaped furnace, his cracked flesh giving way to pure liquid magma coursing through his veins like blood.

"I will burn the cities!"

"I will melt the heroes!"

"I will boil the oceans!"

"I will ascend—not through saving lives or false righteousness—but through violence! Through absorption! Through the destruction of the balance!"

He screamed with joy, a madman possessed.

"I WILL BE THE FUTURE SUPERVILLAIN THAT THE WORLD WILL FEAR!"

"I AM LAVA SCISSOR—AND THIS IS MY ASCENSION!"

Silence followed.

The words hung in the air like heatwaves.

And Elius... froze.

His pupils constricted.

His mind stopped for half a second.

Lava Scissor.

He knew that name.

He had read it in his past life. Not in history books. Not in present-day news.

But in the comics.

That name... that villain... he wasn’t supposed to appear yet.

Not for three more arcs.

Not until S-Class carnage.

Elius felt cold sweat creep down his back.

This... this wasn’t supposed to happen.