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Only thirteen races remained on the planet.

The other four were gone.

Extinct. Erased.

Efsa no longer paid close attention to the wars. He had long stopped counting the battles, the fallen, the shifting tides of power. Yet, no matter how much he ignored them, the news still found its way to him.

Another city burned. Another species wiped out. Another faction rose, only to crumble days later.

And still, the fighting did not end.

It didn't matter to him.

His days passed the same way they always did. Tending to the land. Watching the seasons shift. And, more than anything else—waiting for dinner.

That evening, as they sat at the table, Silk spoke absentmindedly between bites of food.

"I wonder if the fighting will ever end."

Efsa, who had been staring at his plate, barely lifted his eyes as he responded.

"Fights never end," he said flatly, "unless someone sacrifices themselves."

Silk frowned, her spoon pausing midair.

"What? I don't think that's correct," she said, tilting her head. "There are other ways to stop wars. Peace treaties, negotiations, alliances—"

"It is," Efsa interrupted, his voice steady. Final.

Silk pouted, her brows furrowing at his unwavering confidence.

She wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped her.

Efsa didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

Because he knew.

He knew better than anyone.

After all—he had sacrificed himself before.

***

Days passed.

"The day I turn twenty-two, the king of XXX will visit our city. What a lucky day," Silk said, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and anticipation.

Efsa didn't respond. He didn't even look up.

He had no interest in kings.

He had seen far too many of them—men who ate the finest food, lived in luxury, and spoke of war, yet never fought in one themselves.

Silk, undeterred, turned to him. "Would you like to come with me to see the parade?"

Efsa didn't even think before answering.

"No."

Silk let out a small breath, already expecting that response.

Of course, he would say no.

That was just how Efsa was.

Or at least—that was what she told herself.

And yet… maybe, just maybe, a small part of her had hoped he would say yes this time.

***

Silk didn't come that day.

Efsa knew why.

The king had arrived in town.

Of course, he was aware—how could he not be? The entire town was in chaos, buzzing with excitement and fear. Streets were packed with people, banners lined the roads, and soldiers patrolled like hawks.

Efsa didn't care about the king. But he did wonder what she was doing.

So, he looked.

From his usual spot, he could see everything happening in the town with ease. His vision stretched across streets and alleyways, picking up even the smallest details.

And then—he saw her.

Silk.

Efsa shot to his feet.

A group of soldiers surrounded her. Two of them had grabbed her arms, forcing her to her knees as they tried to bow her head roughly toward the ground.

Before he even thought about it, he moved.

A gust of wind rushed past, and in an instant, Efsa was there.

A deep, earth-shaking voice tore through the air.

"What is happening here?!"

The townspeople, who had been frozen in silent fear, flinched at the sheer force of his voice.

Two soldiers held Silk down, but they, too, hesitated. A moment ago, they had been alone. Now, a man stood before them—one whose presence alone made their skin crawl.

One of the soldiers swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.

"This girl tried to steal from me," he said quickly. "She will be coming with us."

Efsa's cold eyes swept over him.

Lies.

Pathetic, obvious lies.

Even without his abilities, he would have known Silk wasn't someone who would steal. But with them? Seeing through the words of lowly men like this was effortless.

"She is not someone who would steal," Efsa said, his voice quieter but just as firm. "Let her go."

He still didn't want to fight. He still didn't need to fight.

So, he tried speaking first.

The soldiers exchanged glances before sneering.

"Haha! Are you ordering us, the king's guards?"

Efsa exhaled through his nose, his patience fraying.

"If you don't let her go," he said, his voice turning sharp, "I will take her—along with your arms."

The threat sent a chill through the air.

And then, before the soldiers could react—

"What is happening here?!"

A different voice boomed across the square.

The moment the crowd heard it, they immediately bowed their heads.

The king had arrived.

The guards stiffened, straightening their backs.

One of them quickly turned to the approaching figure and spoke with urgency.

"This girl stole from me, Your Majesty! We were subduing her."

The king barely spared Silk a glance.

"I see," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Then continue."

That was it.

A shadow flickered.

The next second, Silk was no longer on the ground.

Instead, she was in Efsa's grip—held effortlessly with one hand.

And in his other hand—

Two severed arms dangled from the shoulder down.

A moment of stunned silence fell over the town.

Then, the screams came.

The soldiers who had held Silk stumbled backward, eyes wide with horror.

They looked down.

Each of them now had only one arm.

"Wha—WHAT THE HELL?!"

The square erupted into chaos.

"Guards, capture that man!" the king roared.

At his command, soldiers from all around unsheathed their swords and leveled their spears at Efsa.

Efsa didn't even blink.

He moved.

In an instant, the severed arms in his grasp disappeared.

Now, his fingers were wrapped around something else.

The king's throat.

The man gasped, his pudgy hands clawing at Efsa's grip.

It was that easy.

Efsa lifted him effortlessly, holding him above the ground as if he weighed nothing.

"LET ME GO!" the king wheezed, his face turning red. "Do you know what will happen to you and your family?! If you release me now, I will at least spare your family—!"

Efsa tilted his head.

"I don't have a family," he said. "So go ahead. Do your worst."

The king's struggles faltered. Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire

The guards stood frozen.

One wrong move, and their king would die.

But then, someone moved.

A man—one far stronger than the others.

Unlike the rest, he didn't hesitate.

He stepped forward, his presence sharp, his movements smooth.

He was fast. Too fast for the average eye to follow.

But not for Efsa.

As the man approached like a shadow, Efsa turned his head—locking eyes with him as if watching a snail crawl toward him.

The man halted immediately.

His breath hitched.

Then, without a word, he retreated.

Another figure stepped forward.

A woman in flowing blue robes raised her hands, chanting a spell.

The swordsman's body began to glow, his movements turning sharper—faster.

He lunged again, this time an unstoppable blur.

But Efsa's foot shot out.

With one strike, the swordsman was sent flying—crashing into the mage with a sickening thud.

Both of them collapsed, knocked unconscious.

Efsa turned his gaze back to the king.

"I heard you stole from me," he said, his grip tightening. "So, by your logic, you should be subdued."

The king's eyes widened in outrage. "What are you talking about?! I am the king! I don't need to steal anything! Show me proof!"

Efsa let out a dry chuckle.

"Proof?" he echoed. "If you need proof for thievery, why didn't you ask for proof when your man accused Silk?"

The king sputtered. "Are you seriously comparing me to some random village girl?! Is she your wife?!"

Efsa's gaze darkened.

"In front of me," he said, voice ice-cold, "you are all just ants. So tell me—give me one reason not to crush you like one right now."

The king trembled. "I—I am the king! You can't kill me! The Human race will be—!"

Efsa didn't care.

The king was fat. Weak. He had never fought in his life.

He wasn't someone who ensured the Human race's survival—he was someone who fed off it.

Efsa tightened his grip.

But then—he felt it.

A gaze.

He looked up.

Silk was watching.

Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, were wide with fear.

For the first time—she looked at him differently.

Efsa exhaled sharply.

Then, without a word, he released the king, letting him collapse to the ground.

The moment the king was free, the guards rushed forward, swords raised.

Now that their ruler was safe, they were ready to fight again.

Efsa didn't even glance at them.

"Leave this town," he said, his voice low but powerful. "And don't come back."

He turned.

"This is your only warning."

And with that, for the first time—Efsa showed his power to the world.