Unrivaled in another world

[: 3rd POV :]

The legend of Death Calamity was no longer whispered—it echoed.

Across shattered skies, through burning kingdoms, beneath chasms of blood and bone, the name travelled like a curse.

Daniel, the mortal anomaly, had become something more than feared.

He had become the inevitability of doom.

What was once myth was now undeniable.

What was once a mortal... was now a paradox.

And far beyond the known world, hidden inside a gate suspended in the void of dimensional fractures—untouchable by mortals, unmarked by time—there sat seven thrones, each carved from the fabric of existence itself.

These were not kings.

Not rulers.

They were Overlords, chosen by the will of entropy itself.

Their very breath distorted the dimension.

Their mana bent dimensions.

Where they sat, even gravity died in reverence.

But today, the throne hall was not silent.

It was tense.

Six Overlords sat in stoic contemplation, while the seventh leaned forward, eyes sharp as a blade drawn in warning.

Their names were known only to those who walked the paths of waste.

One was known as Zar'Kael, the Void Warden and sis body was a living rift, humanoid in shape but hollow in form.

Stars flickered within his obsidian frame, his voice layered like stars colliding.

Saelithar, the Moon Eater, is a serpentine colossus with ten silver eyes orbiting her head like moons. Her form drifted as if swimming through unseen waters.

Varnokh, King of Rot, a bloated carcass with fungal towers sprouting from his back, every breath exhaling clouds of life-erasing spores.

Ixelion, Flame of All Ends, a burning effigy in the shape of a knight, made entirely of cursed blue fire. His heat was such that even sound trembled in his presence.

Myraen, Weaver of Dread, a spider-humanoid hybrid cloaked in endless threads of fate, her eight voices echoing slightly out of sync.

Arguun, the Gravity Ruler, an armoured titan whose sheer presence warped space. Planets drifted lazily in his crown.

Shyros, The Sleeper, the only one who resembled a human child. Pale, smiling, and eternally weeping violet tears.

Zar'Kael's hollow form shimmered as his voice rippled through the hall.

"It has been confirmed. A mortal walks the Continent. And not just any… the one they now call Death Calamity."

"Blasphemy." Saelithar hissed, her coils tightening around her throne. "A sealed continent… tampered? That should be impossible."

Arguun's voice echoed like tectonic plates grinding.

"Nothing mortal should even be able to pass through the World Order's Seal. Not unless something... has changed."

Ixelion's flames hissed, flaring violently.

"He has slain creatures of Gold...Rank. Monsters we discarded into that landmill as a joke… and they're all gone."

Myraen clicked her mandibles, her threads weaving wildly through the air.

"I saw the strands of their fate. They weren't cut. Erased. Not frayed, not broken… but removed."

Varnokh let out a chortling wheeze, his voice wet and sickly.

"Do you know how long it's been since something unknown made me feel fear? The rot remembers everything. And yet... I don't understand him."

They all turned to Shyros.

The Sleeper hadn't spoken yet. He stared at the empty space in front of him, eyes unfocused, expression distant.

A moment passed… and then he whispered.

"He doesn't belong to the weave. He is not part of the dream... nor the nightmare. He is not even a variable."

The air fell still.

Even Zar'Kael leaned forward, visibly concerned. "Then what is he?"

"Nothing," Shyros murmured. "He is Nothing wearing the shape of Something."

Ixelion snarled. "He bleeds. He burns. That means he can die."

Saelithar's moons trembled. "But what if he becomes more powerful? He has a power that mimics our nature. To kill above your rank… is to mock the hierarchy. He is a ripple that could become a storm."

Varnokh growled, spore-pocked eyes narrowing. "And if he discovers how to breach the dimension from within…?"

Myraen's threads froze. "Then we are no longer watching a fire."

"…We are watching a new Entity."

Arguun finally asked the question they had all avoided:

"So, how do we handle him?"

A long silence fell.

Zar'Kael finally broke it.

"All 7 of us will have to, one way or another,r ambush him and kill him"

Ixelion's flames flared with outrage.

"7 of us?! You looking down on us or what!? Why the fuck do we need 7 of us just to kill a mortal, the so-called 'Death Calamity', when one of us is powerful enough to handle him alone!?"

''It's better to take precautions rather than charging ahead with our ego,'' Zar'Kael spoke. 

''Kael, do you think we are that weak!?'' Ixelion questioned with anger. 

''We have existed long before this world was born and have gained powers that not many trillions of lives dare to imagine!''

''We have been Blessed! We have received Stigma! We have earned Grace! We have mastered 'Throne!' We have comprehended 'Commandment!' We have formed our 'Core' and Origin!'' 

''With all of that, do you belittle the achievements and even our title as 'Overlord' that has been granted by 'them' personally!?'' Ixellion questioned. 

''Ixellion, I'm not belittling our powers, but history has taught us a lesson that anything that doesn't seem right should be taken as a precaution, the 'Irregulars' have taught us that'' Zar'Kael explained. 

''HAHAHAHAHAAHA'' Ixellion laughed while the rest of them only watched in silence. 

''You think that a mere mortal like him is an Irregular? In this barren world, where even 'they' don't blink an eye at it.

The laughter from Ixelion echoed like a collapsing star, burning with ego and defiance.

But none of the Overlords joined him. Not even Shyros, whose tears had ceased momentarily—an omen in itself.

"Let me remind you, Ixelion," Zar'Kael said, the void inside his frame flickering, "we've all watched 'irregulars' rise before. Each time… they devoured logic, disrespected rank, and violated causality. Each time… we waited too long."

Myraen's threads hissed as she tightened the weave around her throne. "And each time, 'their' pride was the first casualty."

"But this thing—this Daniel," Varnokh rasped, his fungal body exhaling diseased spores that fizzled against the dimensional wards, "he is different, shrouded in a veil of mysteries...his entire being is a question'' 

Saelithar's orbiting moons pulsed, her voice calm but sharp. "There are creatures that kill. There are beings that conquer. But he unmakes. His power isn't just brutal—it is systematic. Precise. Relentless. Like a principle of nature rebelling against itself."

Arguun, who had been silent for some time, finally clenched his massive gauntleted fist.

Space trembled under his fingers as a nearby comet crumbled to dust. "Then it is agreed," he said, voice like falling continents, "we cannot allow him to become even more powerful. If we wait…it may be too late."

A silence fell once more, heavier this time. The kind of silence that marked a decision, not a debate.

Zar'Kael's rift-like body shimmered with void-light. "Then we strike."

Ixelion leaned forward, his fire dimmed but not extinguished. "You're truly serious… Seven Overlords, to kill one man?"

"We are not hunting a man," whispered Shyros, finally looking up, his voice as hollow as a dying star. "We are hunting a flaw."

Myraen's threads drifted slowly. "A cancer that dreams."

"An idea that kills," Saelithar added.

Varnokh let out a low, gurgling laugh, thick and wet. "Then let's give him the ending all monsters deserve."

Zar'Kael raised his arm and materialised a fractured crystal—an ancient tracking relic forged from an unknown time. Inside it, the outline of the continent shimmered with runes and shifting dimensional markers.

"This gate," he pointed at a faintly glowing rift deep within the western jungle lands of the Forbidden Continent. "His path trends toward it. It will manifest within three days. We ambush him there."

Arguun frowned. "Too narrow. What if he changes path?"

"He won't," Myraen replied, her threads already wrapping around the image of the gate. "I've altered the strands. He'll be drawn to it"

Saelithar narrowed her silver eyes. "He may sense our presence."

"Then we make it quiet," Zar'Kael said.

"No dimensional pressure. No aura leaks. Just silence"

"Like bait in a well-laid web," Myraen agreed.

Ixelion rolled his flaming shoulders. "Then once he steps inside—"

"We unmake him," Arguun finished.

Shyros rose from his throne slowly, his tiny childlike frame betraying the ancient will behind those tear-streaked eyes.

"I want to be the one to hold his last thought."

They all turned toward him.

"The last sound he hears should be his name… falling apart."

The seven nodded.

And then—one by one—the thrones emptied.

As the throne hall darkened, the Gate, which had been chosen as Daniel's execution ground, began to shimmer with unknowable energies.

A trap was now set.

A divine ambush, prepared by the highest predators in existence in this continent. 

For the first time in countless aeons… all Seven Overlords would descend together.

Not for conquest.

Not for glory.

But for one man.

One anomaly.

One death…

Death Calamity.

And they were confident—this time, they would erase him.