"Let's play a game," he said, pointing at the last of the first group members, who was currently running toward them like a wild beast.
It was the person the guard was originally fighting against, but at this moment his face was covered in blood, and his skin had started to sag. His eyes were bulging and his pupils dilating extremely without stop. His fingers grew into claws that easily pierced through armor.
His ears drooped like those of a pig, his skin turned red, and lastly, his teeth grew into fangs.
"Our great master has bestowed a blessing upon that idiot, yet he couldn't control it, and now he's turning himself into a monster. Oh, merciful master, forgive him his stupidity and let him suffer after death by your side," the martial master said, completely lost in the sound of his own voice.
"You only have three attacks. Kill it, or prepare to be killed yourself," he said after coming back to his senses.
Bang!
In a single attack, Ghrosweav blew away its head cleanly, then turned the barrel toward the master, who threw another stone—this one smashing away the sword-form from Ghrosweav's hand.
No way…?! Not even enhanced martialists could knock away my weapon with a direct hit of strength. So this is true power, Ghrosweav thought.
"You did well in that attack, and now as your reward—"
Yet in the next moment, everything changed. Right as the master was speaking, bone spikes flew from unknown directions, piercing almost everything and everyone in the vicinity.
Almost all twenty men were killed in that strange and sudden attack. In the darkness of the night, the only thing visible was a pair of giant, serpent-like eyes staring at them.
The guard died after being split unevenly by the spikes. Even the twitching body of the headless man Ghrosweav had killed earlier was pierced and fell completely still. The half-dead Butcher Toy was finally put to actual death by the spikes.
Ghrosweav covered the madam with his body and was pierced by three spikes, yet no harm came to her.
On a nearby streetlight stood the master, who didn't look pleased by the deaths of his subordinates.
"Whatever you are, whoever you are… you've messed up really bad this time, you know?" the master asked, only to be met with silence.
"Good. Very good. It's been a while since I've stretched my body. You'll be a suitable opponent. I couldn't sense your presence, but that attack was powerful—strong enough to make me retreat."
Saying this, he stretched his body and, in the next moment, disappeared—reappearing right above where the eyes had been.
Boom!
The moment his fist struck out, it instantly crushed the wall behind him.
He then jumped back at inhuman speed, lunging forward again and striking with his legs and arms.
With the destructive force of a master, and a much newer and more advanced version of the armor, the damage he dealt was beyond calculation.
Each strike from a normal enhanced martialist could kill a bull, while a master's attack carried four to five times that power. Yet the master couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't doing any meaningful damage.
What's this foreboding feeling I'm getting? I'm dominating this thing, yet I'm still the one in danger…
Suddenly, he was smashed into the ground hard. But with the durability of a master and his quick body-strengthening technique, the damage was almost zero.
Yet it didn't end there. Before he could open his eyes, the creature kept smashing and hitting him relentlessly. He had no choice but to close his eyes—only to open them again when his shoulder was bitten tightly by the creature.
When he finally saw what he was fighting against, he struck out with all his strength, injuring the creature's right eye.
The creature threw him heavily to the ground. Even though he reinforced his body, the pain and impact were still there.
When he looked again, the creature's injured eye had already healed—less than five breaths later.
Suddenly, it stepped into a slightly brighter area.
It was a lizard-like creature with spikes around its ears, back, elbows, and tail-tip—the sharpest spikes of all. It had no scales, only pig-like flesh with loose, sagging skin.
All its spikes rose up, making it look like an angry cat.
"Fucking hell," he screamed in fright. Despite his young appearance, he had lived over fifty years, yet had never seen anything like this.
"An abomination…" he said.
Then he reached behind his back, opening the storage slot in his armor, and drew a firearm-like weapon.
Taking aim, he fired a missile-sized bullet—almost as large as two monster-stick cans combined. The entire motion took about 0.10 seconds, most of which was the armor opening.
The creature tried to dodge, sensing the danger, but the attack was faster—it hit the creature's head, exploding on contact and blowing it apart completely.
After waiting a few seconds with no response, the master walked toward the fallen creature. He looked at its strange form and kicked it a few times.
"What the hell are you?" he asked.
In the next moment, a glint flashed past him—and his head fell from his shoulders, still carrying an expression of fear and disbelief.
The thing that had decapitated him was the creature's tail.
The headless creature retrieved its tail and began standing back up.
Its neck swelled grotesquely; the flesh bubbled like boiling liquid. The swollen flesh doubled in size, and a large red eye grew on the left side while a small orange one appeared lower. A gaping mouth opened with a monstrously long tongue.
In seconds, the head shrank back to its former size, now deformed with the extra tongue.
Looking toward the remaining humans, the creature found one dead—and the other nowhere to be seen. Losing its cool, it began chasing the survivor.
Back to the present
Looking at the monstrosity before her, all she could think about was her sixteen-year-old son at home.
Is this how I die? the woman known as Madam thought as her vision filled with blood and tears.
Cornered, with no hope left, she heard a voice from above.
"Oh? Who would've thought I'd find one of these while coming back from a long and tiresome mission?"
The voice was bland, mature, and tired—yet it gave her a faint glimmer of hope.
Both the creature and the woman looked up just in time to see a man falling from the rooftops, his figure silhouetted against the faint moon.
BOOM!
He landed on both feet.
The first impression this man gave was melancholy, weird, and ancient.
He wore an old brown leather trench coat, a silver-black inner shirt, brownish-red cargo pants, and dirty brown combat boots.
But the most noticeable thing about him was his right arm—covered entirely by an ancient metallic prosthetic, making it twice as large as normal.
The second was the giant, rusted greatsword resting casually on his shoulder, as long as his own body. Fresh blood and strange markings covered its rectangular blade.
His head was hidden beneath an old paladin helmet.
Looking at her, he asked,
"Miss… are these perhaps yours?"
He held out a handful of pearls, caked with mold and dirt—telling stories of their time in the muck.
She only stared at him, too weak to respond.
"Oh? Seems you're badly hurt. But how are you still alive with such wounds?" he mused aloud, kneeling slightly and placing the pearls on her lap.
Then he took out a piece of paper, ripped it in two, and a dark blue light rose from it, flowing into her body. Her wounds began to heal rapidly.
Suddenly, the creature lunged, its spiked tail aimed at him.
"Look out!" she shouted instinctively.
But the man didn't flinch.
In less than 0.01 seconds, he moved.
The same creature that had slaughtered more than twenty enhanced martialists and a master martialist—
—was cut down in a single swing.
With one strike, he severed its tail, then released his grip on the greatsword, letting it spin toward the lizard's head—decapitating it cleanly.
"So… are they yours?" he asked again, ignoring the headless monster he had just slain.