The three bastards gradually realized the true gap between them and Ren.
They had higher levels, better armor, and weapons sharpened through dozens of hours of monster hunting...but none of that could hide one undeniable fact:
Their combat technique was abysmal… or rather, their fighting lacked flexibility and instinct.
They relied far too much on the system. Dependent on stats, skill activations, and mechanical routines repeated to the point of monotony.
And that made their attacks, no matter how much damage they could deal, ruthlessly predictable.
Ren didn't need to look at their swords. He only needed to see a shift in posture, a tense shoulder, a delayed twist of the hips… and he already knew which skill was coming.
The blow hadn't landed, but he saw it clearly, like watching a looping video on repeat.
He stepped left, retreated half a step, then turned, every movement as natural as a reflex. And at that moment, a sword sliced through the air from the right, missing entirely.
No flashy effects. No dazzling light shows.
Just a simple, cold, precise movement, and the distance between a "warrior" and a "pretender" was carved even deeper.
Ren saw the confusion start to appear in their eyes.
He, meanwhile, only gripped his sword tighter, ready for the next counterattack.
They weren't just losing to Ren, they weren't even a match for Yuna or Nautilus.
They had leveled up by fighting in formation, a carefully calculated method: shieldbearer in front, others dealing damage from behind.
Everything was prearranged, retreat points, defensive positions. Safe. Efficient. But only efficient... within that formation.
Ren had seen it from the beginning, when he was still hiding in the shadows, watching them fight the Kobolds.
Their movements were stiff. Their reactions depended on their teammates. No instinct. No independence.
They were strong… but only when they were together.
And now, amidst the smoke and the clang of metal on stone, with his heart pounding in his chest, Ren knew, he had separated them.
Or at least, he thought he had.
Because on the battlefield, even a moment of overconfidence… could be the beginning of tragedy.
The leader shot Ren a hateful glare, then quickly looked behind, to where Yuna and Nautilus were still holding on, every muscle tense, every breath like a rasp tearing through their throats, struggling against the overwhelming Kobold horde.
They couldn't turn back. Couldn't afford even a second of distraction. A single misstep, one wrong move, and the Kobolds' fangs would tear through them like shredded cloth.
That also meant... they hadn't realized it yet. They didn't know they'd been used. Thrown into death's jaws by those pretending to fight on their side.
But the Kobolds noticed.
The blood...the stench of blood oozing from the wounds of the three traitors, was drawing the pack in.
Those on the edges of the horde began to peel away, creeping toward them, their glowing red eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight deep within the cave.
The leader inhaled sharply, his voice hurried but trying to sound calm, as if he still held some control.
"You... what do you want by doing this? I've got money. Cor. More than you think. Just let us go, and I'll give you whatever you want."
He was bargaining. Desperately. He knew time was running out, and death was creeping ever closer.
When Yuna and Nautilus could no longer hold out... the Kobolds would turn around.
And then, this place would become a banquet for beasts.
And he...the one who had just thrown his teammates away like bait, was now trying to buy his life again. But this time… from someone with no reason to say yes.
Ren didn't move.
An eerie silence settled over him.
He didn't answer. Didn't even react to the man's raised eyebrow or his wheedling, black-market-merchant tone.
Only his hand tightened on his sword hilt, and his eyes, cold as ice, pierced through every vein of the traitor.
"You see," the leader pressed on, swallowing hard, "Even if you're better… you really think you'll survive alone when they come this way?"
He nodded slightly toward Yuna and Nautilus...as if warning Ren. Or threatening him. As if to say: "You don't have much time."
Ren narrowed his eyes. Not out of anger, but disgust. That tone… the way the man talked about others as if they were disposable pawns…
…ignited something sharp and hot in Ren's chest, like steel thorns digging in. A few bitter memories surfaced in that fleeting moment.
Ren's answer didn't come in words.
It came in slow, deliberate steps toward the man, as silent as a final verdict delivered by a court already adjourned.
They instinctively stepped back. Feet skidding across stone, eyes shattering in an instant.
Something… was emanating from Ren. Not a roar. Not a skill.
But killing intent.
A cold, hazy light, barely visible but unmistakably real, slowly seeped from his dim blue eyes. As if he no longer stood there to defend himself.
But for another reason entirely....one far clearer, and far colder.
The intent to kill.
Even if only for a moment, it made the air so heavy that even the approaching Kobolds hesitated for a beat. But...
Ren gripped the hilt of his sword tightly...then loosened it.
The killing intent dissipated like thin smoke. That impulse… he had extinguished it.
He wasn't a murderer. Not a monster swept away by betrayal.
There was no time. He couldn't allow himself to cross the line he had drawn. These people...yes, they deserved punishment. But not like that.
The only thing that truly chilled him to the bone now...
...was the image of Yuna and Nautilus still fighting with everything they had left. Their strikes were erratic, their movements slowing, breaths catching in their throats.
He couldn't just stand here.
"Leave them," the leader said with a smirk, his voice trampling what little remained of Ren's trust. "Just a couple of fools who believed in a stranger, someone they met only minutes ago, because he said a few kind words. Blind, naive idiots who deserve to die like that."
He glanced at the monsters swarming over the two small figures. His gaze held no pity, only disgust… and contempt.
"If they don't die here, they'll die later. A trap, a stab in the back, or just because they put their trust in the wrong person."
His voice dropped to a near-whisper, but each word hissed through clenched teeth like blades:
"This world isn't made for the naive. The weak die. The strong… don't live much longer either.
The ones who survive are those who use everything. Who adapt. Even if they have to step over their comrades' corpses to move forward."
The leader lowered his sword and stepped back a few paces as if to show goodwill. But in his eyes, there was a glint of malice, and on his lips curled a smile that didn't even try to hide its wickedness.
"And you're no different, idiot," he whispered, spitting on the fragile trust Ren still clung to in that fleeting moment.
A dry, rasping sound came from the left, Ren turned his head just in time for a loud CRACK! a heavy iron mace slammed into his temple.
-153 HP.
His body flew back like a puppet with its strings cut, tumbling across the jagged stone floor before slamming into the cave wall, leaving behind a trail of red, scattered pixels breaking apart in the air.
A wave of dizziness spun the world around him. All he could hear was a low, distorted ringing, like the sound of reality being twisted.
The leader stepped forward, crouched, and spat on Ren's chest.
"You really shouldn't let your enemies talk so much," he said coolly, voice low and rusted like an old knife. "We were just buying time, kid. Remember that in your next life."
Without waiting a second more, he jerked his head in signal. The three bastards turned and ran toward the exit, toward the faint light leading out of the darkness of the cave, leaving Ren behind, as the Kobolds began to catch the scent of a fourth body.
Ren tried to get up. His body felt like it was falling apart, blood spilling from his temple and dripping onto the ground in blurry red streaks, like ink bleeding into water.
His head throbbed, pain screaming inside his skull, but he clenched his teeth and pressed his hands against the cold, uneven floor.
His legs trembled, but he stood. He had to.
Those bastards… They intended to kill.
He used to think that a warning would be enough, to scare them, to make them realize and back down.
But… that leader's eyes, his smirk, the strike from behind, everything said one thing: they never planned to spare anyone.
"Trying to kill us..." Ren muttered, his voice like a hiss through his teeth. "Then I don't need to hold back anymore."
From afar, the growls of the Kobolds echoed. The monsters had caught the scent of blood.
Yuna and Nautilus were still fighting, their backs soaked in sweat, their movements sluggish.
He couldn't let them fall. He couldn't let those three escape, only to repeat this again with someone else.
Ren bit down on his lip until it bled, his eyes gleaming with a cold, sharp resolve. No more hesitation. No more mercy.
This ends now.
Ren shot forward like a raging wind, his silhouette a blur streaking through the pitch-dark air. It didn't take long before he passed the group scrambling to flee, weighed down by their armor like chains.
But he didn't attack. He didn't say a word. Not even a glance.
Ren ran straight past them, leaving behind their stunned looks, which quickly twisted into scorn… then smug amusement.
They laughed. They thought he was afraid.
That he was just another weakling running away, leaving his comrades behind to save his own skin.
And they were right… in a way. No one wants to die. But… it was a grave mistake to think Ren would abandon anyone.
When he was just a few steps from the cave's mouth, Ren suddenly stopped, his motion slicing through the air like an invisible blade.
A swift, decisive movement.
"That's enough," he murmured, then threw something forward.