Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 145: It’s Time (Flashback)

Chapter 145: It’s Time (Flashback)

Looking at the average stats of the Elite Rank, Alex couldn’t help but feel a flash of surprise.

He had always known he was strong. Among his peers, he stood out early. Talent bloomed in him faster than most, and his power always responded as if it had been waiting for him to speak.

Still, as the glowing interface laid out the data in front of him, he was reminded that numbers told a colder story than memory ever could.

The figures, far surpassing those of the average individual, struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him momentarily breathless and astonished by just how potent he truly was.

But then a thought crept into his mind.

"Do these numbers include people from the Higher Clans?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the glowing screen hovering in his vision.

NOVA’s response came immediately.

"No, sir. The stats previously shown—

Strength: 90-120,

Agility: 90-120,

Constitution: 90-120,

Mana: 90-120—

reflect only those without any god-bloodline. In other words, regular humans."

Just as Alex opened his mouth to reply, the interface suddenly transformed. A vibrant new category slid into view, taking prominence at the top of the screen, its bold graphics drawing the eye and hinting at new possibilities.

[Those with the Bloodline of Lesser and Intermediate gods]

Strength: 120–150

Agility: 120–150

Constitution: 120–150

Mana: 120–150

Alex narrowed his eyes slightly.

So, this was the bar for the lesser and intermediate clans. It made sense, but it also moved the goalposts.

"What about the Higher Clans?" he asked, already expecting the answer to sting a little.

NOVA didn’t hesitate.

"Elite Rank individuals from the Higher Clans typically fall within these parameters:"

[Higher Clan – Elite Rank Averages]

Strength: 150–170

Agility: 150–170

Constitution: 150–170

Mana: 150–170

Alex exhaled through his nose.

So much for demi-god ranked talent, he thought bitterly. Looking at his stats—

Strength: 165,

Agility: 183,

Constitution: 170,

Mana: 204—

He was only slightly ahead in Mana and Constitution. In Strength, he was barely inside the average. In Agility, he was above—but even that now felt like a fragile edge.

He had once towered above the average human, standing in a realm of pride and superiority, but now, he found himself diminished, struggling to find his place among those who were born into the esteemed higher clans.

The fleeting sense of accomplishment that had filled him was now overshadowed by a chilling awareness of his insignificance.

Then NOVA’s voice rang in his mind once more, clinical but not unkind.

"Please take note, sir: The figures presented here indicate the Elite Rank attained at the precise moment of advancement. These numbers will gradually increase within those specific statistics until an individual is ready to make a significant breakthrough. In essence, they will not surpass the 170 mark, particularly for the typical member within the higher clan. Additionally, it’s important to remember that you have just reached the prestigious Elite Rank."

Alex blinked.

Suddenly, he remembered—he had only achieved the rank of Elite just two weeks before the devastating assault on his clan. In the whirlwind of that tumultuous time, the shift in status had been so faint, so easily overlooked amidst the chaos and confusion, that he hadn’t truly grasped its significance.

He wasn’t at the peak of the Elite Rank.

He was just getting started.

The thought made him pause.

He exhaled deeply, some of that pressure lifting off his shoulders.

’Seems like demi-god talent isn’t just for show after all,’ he mused.

The next few hours passed in quiet study.

With Nyxara curled up comfortably in his lap, her warm presence radiating a sense of calm, Alex immersed himself in the intricate interface that glowed softly before him. The gentle cadence of her breathing was a soothing backdrop as he studied the complex layout of buttons and screens.

Whenever a question began to germinate in his mind, he vocalized it softly—his thoughts shaping the inquiry like whispers. To his relief and amazement, NOVA, the system’s intelligent companion, responded promptly and clearly, carefully navigating the boundaries of her programmed limitations while still providing invaluable insights.

And over time, a few crucial truths revealed themselves.

The first was that this wasn’t NOVA’s main core processor.

This was only a relay.

"Where’s the main processor?" he had asked.

"Can’t answer that, sir," she had replied. "Your mother preferred to explain that to you herself."

The second realization was more technical.

This interface wasn’t real.

It appeared to be a solid surface, gleaming with an almost ethereal quality, but in reality, it was merely a projection—a vivid stream of information directly interfacing with his brain through the intricate dance of nanobots coursing through his neural pathways.

The image formed an illusion so vivid that only he could perceive it, a vibrant tapestry of light and color that engaged his senses yet remained untouchable.

His hands moved in the air, but no gestures commanded it; the projection existed beyond the realms of the physical world, a mesmerizing figment of technology and imagination that defied the laws of reality.

Instead, it all flowed through thought.

He would think, and NOVA would relay the command to the nanobots, who in turn adjusted what he saw.

The connection was seamless.

And incredibly advanced.

By the time he closed the system, his understanding of it had grown significantly.

The interface faded from view, and Alex leaned back with a long, measured breath.

He felt... settled.

Not healed, not whole—but grounded. Or at least, more than he had been in days.

Then, he spoke without looking down.

"...It’s time."

Nyxara lifted her head slightly, then said nothing. With quiet grace, she stood, padded up his chest, and settled across his shoulders—just like she used to do back at the Thunder Estate.

Her weight was light, familiar. Comforting.

Alex reached up and brushed his fingers through the fur along her side, allowing himself a small smile.

Only a small one.

Because as soon as it appeared, it faded.

His eyes sharpened. His breath steadied. His posture straightened.

Then, without a word, he stepped forward.

And left the room behind.