Reincarnated Hero System

Kyrexis Prime

Kyrexi System

December 31st

Year 5012

At the heart of the star system the Kyrexi called their domain, where artificial worlds orbited the massive host star, Kyrexis Prime reigned supreme.

A superplanet of absurd proportions, its sheer size dwarfed even the largest known planets, stretching hundreds of times the diameter of a standard gas giant.

It was one of several artificial superplanets created by the Kyrexi gods, created after they harnessed the power of their white giant star through a megastructure akin to a Dyson Sphere.

These artificial superplanets, while staggering in size, were mere satellites compared to Kyrexis Prime, their largest sibling.

This titanic world was surrounded by far more moons than necessary, some vast enough to rival planets, while others were so small they appeared as drifting stars in the night sky.

As a result, Kyrexis Prime experienced frequent partial eclipses, portions of its surface frequently bathed in vast, sweeping shadows as multiple satellites passed between it and its sun.

Both the planet and its many moons were filled with facilities reserved for the highest-ranking members of the Kyrexi faction and its leaders, from floating citadels to elite training grounds, massive forges, armouries, and research complexes.

At the centre of Kyrexis Prime’s northern hemisphere, dominating the landscape with an almost incomprehensible scale, stood the Zenith Bastion—a city-sized citadel that pierced beyond the troposphere.

It was here that the Eight god Kings who ruled the Kyrexi faction—the true Kyrexi—convened, their thrones encircling a core of condensed Universal Law energy.

And today, every single one of them wore expressions of displeasure.

Not because of the sudden attack on their star system by a ragtag force of enemies.

No, what truly disturbed them was the identity of the one leading that attack—without question, unmistakably, him.

◇　◇　◇

The battlefield was chaos incarnate.

Explosions tore through the air, shaking the very fabric of space as fire and debris rained down. A colossal crack split the sky—the shattered remains of Kyrexis Prime’s once-impenetrable protective barrier—its fragments glimmering like dying stars.

gods and Angels streaked through the skies, their divinities clashing against the might of the Demons and godslayers.

Every moment, bodies fell from the sky, blood of every hue painting the battlefield below.

War cries, the screech of rending metal, and the roar of colliding powers filled the air, drowning out even the thunder of distant, crumbling moons.

Suddenly, a chill swept through the battlefield. Every god felt it—an unnatural cold that crept through their veins, turning their golden blood cold and dimming the radiance of their divinities.

At the same time, the godslayers surged with newfound strength. Their magic flared, their bodies hardened, and those on the brink of death found themselves reinvigorated, reversing the tide against the gods and Angels who had been pressing down on them moments before.

Watching this shift, one of the commanding god Lords clenched his jaw, rage flashing in his eyes. He knew exactly who was responsible.

“Prisma!” he spat.

As if summoned by the name, a streak of multi-coloured light cut through the sky, piercing straight through an allied Angel spaceship.

It tore through one side and burst out the other in a brilliant explosion, reducing the colossal vessel to flaming wreckage. Millions of Angel soldiers perished in an instant, their screams swallowed by the detonation—yet the figure responsible emerged unscathed from the chaos.

The battlefield erupted in response. One side roared in triumph, their morale soaring, while the other cursed his name, weapons drawn as they charged at him in fury.

As the god Lords charged at him, Evan raised his hand, summoning a sword of indigo flames. But before he could even swing it, his allies charged forward, intercepting the attack and clashing with the gods.

“Huh?”

Confusion marred his face, and noticing his expression, one of them glanced at him and spoke.

“Listen, Evan. Those bastards are scared of you. They know you can beat them. That’s why they’re stalling—throwing all this small fry at you to wear you down before you reach them.

But don’t worry about that. We’ll hold them off. You need to get to the Zenith Bastion.”

Words like these would normally be inspiring—enough to make someone clap a comrade on the shoulder and say something like, ‘I’ll leave it to you’ or ‘Don’t die.’

But Evan was having none of that.

“The fuck are you talking about? You’re calling them small fry, but they’re still High-Tier Deities! You’re all gonna die!”

“We don’t care!”

The armoured man grabbed Evan, his glowing eyes visible through the slits of his helmet as he roared.

“We finally trapped those bastards in this dimension! But as much as I hate to admit it, we can’t beat them!

But YOU can. So we’ll do whatever it takes to get you there in top condition.”

Before Evan could respond, the man spun and hurled him northward, launching him over the heads of the gods trying to reach him.

Seeing their target fly over their heads, the gods immediately tried to pursue him, but the armoured man and his battalion charged at them from behind, forcing them into battle once more.

Clicking his tongue at the sight, Evan flipped mid-air and landed on his feet. Flames erupted beneath him, detonating with the force of several nuclear bombs, obliterating everything in the area—including the gods and divine humans moving through the underground channels.

Barely a second later, he was already slicing through the air at hypersonic speed. In his hands was a sword—not a construct created with Mesarthim, but a cold, black metal blade.

The sword was as plain as could be, its only defining feature a subtle flame motif etched into the pommel.

But no one on the intergalactic stage dared to underestimate this weapon despite its plain appearance.

The finest creation of a now-deceased ‘Supreme’ Dwarf King, this was the weapon of the godslayer King—a blade forged with the sole purpose of thoroughly defeating his enemies.

As Evan dashed through the battlefield, his arm blurred, and heads separated from their necks, blood erupting in fountains with every slash.

His charge eventually slowed when he came across a rather troublesome opponent—a god Lord serving one of the Eight Kyrexi Kings.

It wasn’t the god Lord’s strength that made him annoying but rather his Authority.

With a wave of his hand, golden runes flared across the battlefield as he declared:

|Territory Regulation—Decree: WEAPONS ARE UNUSABLE WITHIN THIS TERRITORY!|

Instantly, a shimmering domain expanded outward, covering the area in a translucent veil of divinity.

Within its boundaries, weapons—whether physical, magical, or conjured—became inert, refusing to respond to their wielders.

Evan, also affected by this decree, clicked his tongue.

“Oh, great. One of these assholes.”

His arm suddenly grew heavy, an unnatural weight pressing down on him. No matter how much strength he put into gripping his sword, the universal laws governing this space refused to relent, forcing his weapon downward like an immovable force.

“Alright, you wanna take weapons out?”

Evan decided to oblige.

He hurled his sword at hypersonic speed, sending the blade blurring through the air and reaching one of the surrounding gods in an instant. It pierced clean through the gap in their eyes, bursting out the back of their skull in a splatter of golden blood.

“!!”

The god Lord’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing with fury.

|Get him!|

Despite witnessing their comrade die in a single strike, the remaining gods rushed him—NOT fearlessly, though.

Most tried to attack from his blind spots, while those unfortunate enough to face him directly resorted to blinding, flashy attacks in a desperate bid to obstruct his vision.

But Evan didn’t care. His eyes, protected by law energy, remained unaffected by the bursts of light.

“Since you decided to take weapons out of the game…”

His fists clenched, and he activated his technique.

“…you’re gonna catch these hands.”

‘Mesarthim: Orange—godslayer Torch!’

A surge of orange flames erupted from his body, his height rising to 2.5 meters. The god in his direct line of sight barely had time to react before Evan’s fist crashed into his face, shattering his nose and knocking loose several teeth.

‘Stellar Impact.’

The flames on Evan’s arm recoiled to his shoulder, then flooded back down into his fist like a detonating star. The god’s head exploded, leaving nothing but a spray of gore and a twitching, headless body.

Evan barely let the body drop before leaping to avoid the attacks from behind, then drove his foot into one of his attackers with a dropkick.

As he landed on the ground, he tilted his head to dodge another punch, then grabbed the assailant’s arm, lifted him over his shoulder, and pivoted on his left leg, using the god’s body as a battering ram to knock three others aside.

Before the one on the ground could rise, Evan shifted his weight onto his right leg, lifted his left, and used the momentum from his spin to drive a kick into their face, launching them backwards.

Their body crashed into two more gods, sending them tumbling in a tangled heap before erupting in a burst of prismatic flames, engulfing and killing the others in the blast.

Evan’s body blurred, vanishing an instant before attacks struck where he had stood.

One of the gods heard a scream and immediately used wind magic to clear the dust and smoke. The moment he did, Evan’s flaming hands shot out from behind him, clamping down over his face.

The god barely had time to activate his Authority before Evan’s fingers tightened. With a sickening crunch, he pressed his palms together, melting and crushing the god’s skull between them.

‘Mesarthim: Indigo.’

|Ember Genesis.|

Pillars of indigo flames erupted from the ground in a circle around Evan, and from them, armoured humanoid constructs emerged, each one radiating crimson flames from their fists.

At the sight of them, the god Lord’s expression contorted, and he cursed under his breath.

For a moment, fear gripped him—had Evan broken through his Authority? But he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. These constructs were unarmed.

‘Still… each of those things carries energy comparable to a Deity Level 500… just how much power does this bastard have?’

He shot Evan a glare, and sensing it, Evan smirked.

“Embers…handle the small fry. I’ll take the big one.”

“?!”

The sound of those words had barely reached his ears when Evan’s fist suddenly filled his vision.

But this ‘god Lord’ was no weakling— he was strong enough to be a ‘King’ in his own right. He reacted just in time, deflecting Evan’s first punch upward with his left hand and catching the second with his right.

With both of his hands occupied, Evan simply slammed his forehead into the god Lord’s face, sending him stumbling back.

In the brief moment his vision blacked out, Evan tore his hands free and followed up with a spinning kick, knocking him aside.

The god Lord gritted his teeth, shaking off the impact of Evan’s kick as he twisted in the air and landed on his feet. Without hesitation, he charged forward, his divinity flaring as he threw a crushing palm strike toward Evan’s chest.

The power of laws backed his strike, but all that power meant nothing if it never hit its target. Evan twisted his body, letting the attack harmlessly graze past him before retaliating with a knee strike.

The god Lord blocked it with his forearm and countered with a hook aimed at Evan’s temple.

Evan ducked under it, stepping in to close the distance. A flurry of blows erupted between them—punches, parries, knees, and elbows colliding in rapid succession.

Unsurprisingly, the god Lord held his ground, his movements sharp, his counterattacks swift.

But that didn’t last long.

‘Mesarthim: Prismatic Tempest.’

The moment the technique was activated, Evan’s size returned to normal and the flames on Evan’s body all converged onto his fists.

Then, the colours of the flames expanded into all seven colours of the light spectrum.

|?!|

A blinding cascade of multi-coloured light flooded the god Lord’s vision. Before he could react, Evan’s fist slammed into his gut, folding him in half. Then another struck his ribs. Then his jaw. His chest. His face.

Blow after blow rained down on him at light speed—a merciless barrage that sent his body flying across the battlefield. Space distorted from the stellar heat of each strike, his golden blood spraying as Evan’s fists carved through his defences like paper.

The god Lord activated every Authority and defensive skill at his disposal, but Evan’s Mesarthim could ignore durability. Backed by Evan’s Ultimate Skill, his defensive Authorities were rendered useless.

“Prismatic Impact.”