The ruins of the three collapsed buildings seemed like a temporary coffin for the massive creature. Dust still danced in the air as the ground trembled slightly—a sign that the monster wasn't dead yet.
From within the dust, the figure slowly stood. A towering body, over three meters tall, with steel-hard muscles and grayish skin marked by burn scars and gashes. The remnants of rage flickered in its blood-red eyes. Its jaw clenched tight, and its growl echoed like thunder in the night sky.
The Tyrant.
He stared at Sylvia—the small creature who had just thrown him like a doll. His eyes flared red, his jaw locked, and both fists clenched so tightly that his bones cracked. His breath was heavy, as if his lungs were filled with lava.
Then he charged. Like a bull gone berserk.
SWUSSH!!
His right hand flew with tremendous speed, tearing through the air. A small sonic boom followed as his punch broke the sound barrier.
BANNNGG!!
The punch struck the ground, creating a massive crater on the asphalt where Sylvia had stood just a second earlier. But she was no longer there—floating backward with a light motion like a dancing black wind.
"I can even clearly see the path of your fist…" Sylvia smirking with mocking amusement.
The Tyrant roared and launched a flurry of punches at Sylvia.
BANG!! SWUSH!! BAMM!! SWUSHHH!!
The ground quaked, the road split, and booming impacts shook the buildings around them. But none of the blows touched Sylvia's body. She moved like a dark shadow—light-footed, fluid-shouldered, and cold-eyed. Each missed strike only made the Tyrant angrier, like a beast spiraling out of control.
Sylvia said nothing. She just stared with her deep red eyes, the corners of her mouth raised arrogantly.
And in the next moment—
DOOGHH!!
A fierce kick struck the Tyrant's abdomen. Sylvia kicked at high speed, empowered by her newly evolved Mortessa form. The kick pierced through the thick flesh and sent the monster flying dozens of meters, crashing into a building and demolishing half of its floors.
Dust and rubble buried him for a moment, but Sylvia knew it wasn't over.
And sure enough…
RRRRAAAGGHHH!!!
The Tyrant rose again. His breath was uneven, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. But he could still stand. His body now appeared even darker—as if he had unleashed his strength for one final stand.
He charged once more, and this time Sylvia didn't dodge.
She raised her own fist.
Two monsters—one with raw power, the other with deadly control and speed—clashed in mid-air.
BOOOOMMMMM!!
A sonic explosion tore through the air as their fists collided. Shockwaves rippled through the street. Cars were flung, windows shattered, and nearby buildings cracked like thin ice.
They exchanged blow after blow.
BANG!! BANG!! BAMM!!
The Tyrant struck with brute force, but Sylvia countered with precision. Her movements were like a deathly dancer—each punch smashing into joints, bones, and weak points with cruel intent. With every clash, the Tyrant's bones began to break.
CRAACK!!
His left arm snapped.
BAAMM!!
His ribs shattered.
Sylvia snapped her fingers, and the Chains of Abyss slithered out from beneath the sleeves of her gown like hungry shadow serpents. The living black chains moved as if they knew their master's intent.
The tip of the chain, blood-red and spear-like, gleamed.
SHLAAKK!!
The first chain pierced the Tyrant's calf, bringing him to his knees with a howl. But it didn't end there.
SHRRAAK!!
A second chain emerged from behind Sylvia, weaving through the air and stabbing into the Tyrant's shoulder, smashing through bone and leaving a scorched wound.
SRAK!! SRAKK!! SRRAAKK!!
Three, four, five chains emerged at once. They danced in the air, piercing his gut, chest, arms, and finally—one chain drilled straight through the Tyrant's skull.
The Tyrant went still. His feral aura vanished.
Sylvia tugged on a chain and pulled out a glowing red crystal from inside his head. Its color resembled fire.
"Hm… looks like the one from that tree. But…" she murmured and licked the red crystal. "...Not interesting. And kinda gross."
She glanced to the right—realizing she wasn't alone. Apparently, that girl and a few others had been caught in the aftershock of the battle.
There she was, slumped and ragged. Her golden hair was disheveled, her clothes torn and bloodied, her face exhausted—but her eyes still sparkled—because she was alive.
Sylvia only stared for a moment, then tossed the red crystal at her feet.
Then she turned around and walked away elegantly, the black chains around her slowly retracting beneath her sleeves.
That battle… lasted only five minutes. But the whole city knew the nightmare had passed.
POV Sofia
Sofia could only remain silent. Her legs and body too weak to stand, and her eyes fixed on the back of the figure who had saved her.
She knew. It was the Queen. Even without words, she knew.
Her hand slowly reached for the red crystal. Still warm. Still pulsing—as if it carried the power of the giant just defeated.
Then she rose unsteadily.
Despite her wounds, she moved. Because she knew—the others needed help.
Time passed. As the sun began to set, only seven people remained from both teams.
Team Raijin: Altair and Yuki.
Team Sofia: Sofia, Viktor, Rina, Yuna, and Vivi.
Dito and Kamil had perished.
After tending to their wounds as best they could, Viktor found a still-functioning vehicle. In silence and grief, they returned to base.
Upon arrival, they were met with confused and fearful stares. Those who had once refused to help now lowered their heads, seeing them return battered yet alive.
They entered the command room, and Reinhart's gaze locked onto them.
Before any question could be asked, Sofia tossed the red crystal toward him.
"Queen's help," she said softly and Altair, threw the tiny camera from his vest without a word.
And without saying another thing, they left—leaving Reinhart frozen in place, his pupils shrinking at the mention of that name.
POV Sylvia
Atop a tall building, Sylvia sat alone. Her eyes gazed at the rank 0 zombies wandering below like ants.
She was sitting in front of a small firepit she had made. Then she pulled out her chains and skewered a bird she had randomly caught earlier. She wanted to try eating—perhaps it had been a while since she last did.
The chain moved as she imagined, turning the bird meat to cook evenly. Once she felt it was done, she blew on it and took a bite—but tasted nothing. Bland. No salt, no umami, no fishiness.
Nothing.
She sighed. The dark aura around her body stirred subtly without her realizing.
"…Damn. Was it my cooking, or do zombies just not have taste buds?" she grumbled.
She looked up at the night sky, now growing overcast.
"…Well, maybe I should try adding salt next time."