My Mind Sight swept across the terrain, cataloging every opponent with cold precision. Thirty elite warriors formed a shrinking circle around us, weapons drawn and spells readied. They moved with the coordinated efficiency of a well-trained unit; veterans all, their levels ranging from competent to formidable.

But none compared to Chosun.

The Black Knight stood a head taller than his subordinates, his dark armor absorbing the morning light rather than reflecting it. Scars crisscrossed his weathered face, each telling the story of a battle survived. The level 100 warrior studied our small group with calculating eyes, his gaze finally settling on Casper.

"Casper the Manslayer," Chosun said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "I didn't expect to find you in such... questionable company. Protecting the creature that murdered our god?"

Casper shifted his greatsword to a middle guard position. "I was there when it happened, Chosun. I witnessed Kaldos's power transfer to Vardiel. As far as I'm concerned, I'm standing beside the new God of War."

Chosun's laugh echoed off the abandoned buildings. "Is that so? Then by your own logic, you should step aside and let me kill this abomination. I could then become the God of War myself." He tapped his breastplate. "You could serve me instead, Casper. A more fitting arrangement, wouldn't you agree?"

Casper's stance shifted, weight transferring to his front foot as he adopted an aggressive posture. The subtle change in his musculature indicated his preparation to attack.

"Until that happens," Casper said, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre, "I'll kill anyone who threatens the rightful successor to Kaldos's mantle."

Chosun laughed again, the sound devoid of genuine mirth.

Behind him, a lean man in smoke-gray leathers stepped forward. My Analyze ability identified him immediately:

Level 58 Assassin

"Commander," the Assassin said, his voice carrying a tremor. "Is that truly Casper the Manslayer? The Manslayer?"

Chosun turned slightly. "What if it is?"

The Assassin's posture betrayed his growing agitation. "You never mentioned we'd be facing the Berserker. This is the man who slaughtered an entire army, a thousand men, in a single battle." He gestured toward several others in the formation. "None of us signed up to throw our lives away."

Murmurs rippled through the ranks. At least seven of Chosun's fighters shifted their weight backward, preparing for retreat.

Chosun's hand moved to his sword hilt. "Who do you fear more, Rennar? The Manslayer..." He drew his blade in one fluid motion, the enchanted metal gleaming with hungry darkness. "...or me?"

The Black Knight's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Anyone who runs will die before they make it ten paces. I guarantee it."

The Assassin paled visibly, swallowing hard as he stepped back into formation.

"Listen well," Chosun addressed his forces, raising his voice. "We are here to avenge our fallen god. Focus your attacks on the abomination and the lizardman." He pointed his blade at Casper. "I'll handle the Manslayer myself."

His gaze locked onto me, anticipation burning in his eyes. "Remember: the creature is not to be killed. That privilege belongs to me alone."

While Chosun berated his forces, Casper's voice reached me in barely audible whispers.

"Five minutes," he breathed, not moving his lips. "Ten if I push it. That's how long I can maintain my Berserk state."

I processed this information instantly, calculating odds and survival probabilities. My sensors detected Arctur's subtle shift as he too caught Casper's words.

"Run when I create an opening," Casper continued. "I'll kill as many as I can before Chosun engages me."

A cold, mechanical logic told me abandoning Casper was our optimal strategy. Yet something within my fractured consciousness, perhaps a remnant of Vardin's humanity, registered discomfort at this calculation.

I gave an imperceptible nod. Beneath the widow's dress, my war frame hummed to life. Nine auric steel tendrils slithered from beneath my skirt, their dragon heads hissing with artificial malice. Each tendril positioned itself in attack formation, sensors locking onto potential targets.

Beside me, Arctur extended his crimson spear to its full length. The weapon made no sound, yet its presence seemed to distort the air around it. My analysis of its composition remained inconclusive as the material defied conventional categorization.

Through my network of scout spiders, I monitored Casper's physiological changes. His core temperature spiked dramatically. Heart rate accelerated to 192 beats per minute. Muscle fibers tensed and swelled. Blood vessels dilated. Adrenaline flooded his system.

The Berserk state was activating.

"Remember: the creature is not to be killed," Chosun said to his men, pointing at me. "That privilege belongs to me alone."

The instant those words left his mouth, Casper exploded into motion.

My enhanced perception struggled to track him. One moment he stood beside me; the next, he materialized among four warriors, levels 42, 47, 51, and 55 according to my Analyze. Their expressions barely had time to register surprise before Casper's greatsword carved through them in a single, fluid arc.

Blood erupted in a crimson mist. Bodies collapsed like marionettes with severed strings.

Casper vanished again, reappearing amidst another cluster of five fighters. His movements transcended human limitation, each strike precisely calculated to sever vital arteries or decapitate. Within 1.3 seconds, all five collapsed.

The Berserker's strength and speed had indeed doubled. Yet more alarming was his perfect control. His eyes remained clear, focused; they were devoid of the mindless rage typical of his class.

I didn't linger to observe further. The moment Casper created the breach in their formation, I rushed through it. My tendrils propelled me forward, lifting my body through the gap while simultaneously deterring any who approached.

Arctur matched my pace, his powerful lizardman legs driving him forward in bounding strides.

"Don't let those two escape!" Chosun's voice boomed behind us. "I'll handle the Berserker! Go!"

Footsteps thundered as warriors peeled away from the main force to pursue us. My scout spiders reported twelve combatants breaking formation to give chase.

We fled southward, toward the mountains and the promise of the Central Hellzone beyond, leaving Casper to face the consequences of his sacrifice.

Arctur and I fled through the crumbling streets of Calsor, my war frame's nine tendrils propelling me forwards. The lizardman's powerful legs carried him beside me, his movements fluid and practiced. My combat systems remained active, sensors sweeping our surroundings for tactical advantages.

"We need to reach the southern gate!" Arctur shouted, vaulting over a collapsed market stall.

My scout spiders transmitted real-time intelligence through our neural link. Initially twelve pursuers had given chase, but five had already fallen behind, unable to match our inhuman pace. The remaining seven maintained pursuit with alarming determination.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Seven still following, I informed Arctur.

Arctur nodded grimly. "We can outrun them if we reach the foothills."

Scout Spider Number 3, positioned on a rooftop thirty-seven feet behind us, transmitted a priority alert. My sensors detected a sudden mana spike: concentrated, focused, and rapidly approaching.

Incoming projectile, I calculated the trajectory instantly. Dodge left.

I threw myself sideways as a glowing arrow streaked through the space where my head had been microseconds earlier. The projectile struck a derelict building ahead, detonating with catastrophic force. The explosion's shockwave lifted me off my tendrils and hurled me through the air. My war frame's stabilization systems failed to compensate for the unexpected force.

I crashed against a stone wall; thankfully, a check with Assembly showed no damage. Fifteen meters away, Arctur had been similarly thrown, his scaled body tumbling across the cobblestones.

The delay cost us precious seconds. Our pursuers closed the distance, emerging through the dissipating smoke with weapons drawn.

"Careful, idiot!" The Assassin backhanded the Archer who'd fired the explosive arrow. "Chosun wants the freak alive!"

They attempted to encircle us, spreading out in practiced formation. My tendrils responded to the threat assessment, unfurling into attack configuration. Nine dragon heads hissed in unison, their auric steel gleaming with deadly promise.

"Surrender now," the Assassin demanded, twin daggers glinting in the morning light. "You've nowhere to run."

I answered by launching three tendrils toward him, their dragon heads snapping and snarling. The Assassin moved with preternatural speed, his daggers deflecting the first strike, dodging the second, and parrying the third.

Simultaneously, I directed two tendrils toward the Archer as he nocked another explosive arrow. The tendrils slashed through the air with precision, forcing him to abandon his shot and dive aside.

Arctur recovered his footing and immediately engaged the nearest opponent: a level 40 Spearman. The lizardman's crimson weapon blurred as he attacked, his movements exhibiting a level of martial skill I hadn't previously observed.

A presence registered behind me, a level 46 Swordsman attempting a flanking maneuver. Without turning, I dispatched a tendril that whipped backward, its dragon head clamping down on the man's forearm. Teeth made of auric steel sheared through muscle and bone, extracting a substantial portion of his limb. He stumbled backward, screaming, arterial blood painting the street.

Three more attackers converged on me, weapons raised. My tendrils split their attention, fending off multiple strikes while searching for openings. My tendrils whipped through the air, attempting to fend them all off.

Arctur dispatched his opponent with brutal efficiency, driving his crimson spear through the Spearman's chest. As the body crumpled, two more fighters, both Shield Bearers, closed in on the lizardman.

The Archer, having evaded my tendrils, pivoted away from me. He nocked another arrow, his aim shifting toward Arctur who now fought with his back exposed.

I lunged forward, four tendrils stretching toward the Archer with lethal intent. The distance was too great; I registered this fact with cold certainty. My tendrils would reach him half a second after he released his shot.

The arrow flew, trailing arcane energy. My tendrils reached the Archer a moment later, dragon heads tearing into flesh and bone with mechanical precision. His body disintegrated under their assault, but his final arrow found its mark.

The explosion engulfed Arctur, lifting his massive form and hurling him across the street. His crimson spear flew from his grasp, clattering against distant cobblestones. The lizardman's body rolled to a stop, motionless and eerily still.

I snarled, a sound more mechanical than human, and pivoted toward the Shield Bearers converging on Arctur's motionless form. My war frame's hydraulics hissed as I propelled myself forward, tendrils coiling beneath me like springs.

The Assassin materialized before me, his form blurring with unnatural speed. One moment the space was empty; the next, he stood directly in my path, daggers gleaming.

He struck with practiced precision, driving his enchanted dagger upward into my abdomen. The blade met the auric steel armor concealed beneath my widow's dress with a dull, unsatisfying clang. His eyes widened, pupils dilating with sudden realization.

"What the-"

My fist connected with his face before he completed the thought. The impact crushed cartilage and bone, his nose collapsing under the force of my strike. Blood erupted across his features as momentum carried his body backward, sending him tumbling across the cobblestones in an ungraceful sprawl.

Without pausing, I surged toward the Shield Bearers. They adopted defensive stances over Arctur's body, tower shields braced against the ground and angled to deflect attacks. Standard tactics against conventional opponents.

I was anything but conventional.

My tendrils unfurled like metallic serpents, their dragon heads seeking vulnerabilities in the warriors' defense. Two slithered beneath the shields' lower edges while three more arced overhead, attacking from multiple vectors simultaneously.

"Shields up!" one shouted, panic edging his voice as he recognized the futility of their position.

The dragon heads struck with mechanical precision, auric steel teeth latching onto exposed limbs and vulnerable joints. One tendril clamped onto a Shield Bearer's ankle, crushing through greaves and bone alike. Another found the gap between helmet and breastplate, teeth sinking into the unprotected throat.

Their screams echoed briefly before gurgling into silence. Steel armor crumpled under the relentless pressure of my tendrils' jaws. Flesh tore. Bones snapped. Within seconds, both men lay in pieces, their blood pooling beneath Arctur's still form.

A sixth sense, perhaps my Mind Sight's peripheral awareness, alerted me to movement behind. I whirled, sword-lance intercepting a dagger thrust aimed at my exposed back. The weapons met with a metallic screech, sparks erupting from the contact point.

The Assassin had returned, his face a mask of blood and fury. He attacked with renewed vigor, daggers blurring as he executed a complex series of strikes. Each movement flowed into the next with practiced efficiency, targeting the seemingly vulnerable parts of my body: my neck, my face, my exposed left arm.

His dagger found my throat in what should have been a killing blow. The enchanted blade struck my pale flesh and simply... stopped. No penetration. No wound. The weapon bounced away as if striking solid stone.

Confusion flickered across his blood-streaked features. "Impossible," he whispered.

I seized the momentary hesitation, my sword-lance sweeping in a precise arc. The blade cleaved through his right arm at the elbow, separating limb from body with surgical precision.

The Assassin's scream cut short as his body dissolved into shadow, a high-level escape technique activating automatically. He rematerialized ten feet away, clutching the heavily bleeding stump where his forearm had been.

"What are you?" he gasped, face contorted with pain and disbelief.

I offered no answer. My tendrils repositioned themselves, preparing for another attack. Through my peripheral sensors, I detected movement from Arctur's form, a slight stirring, a tremor passing through his massive frame.

There were just three of them left: the Assassin clutching his severed arm, the one-armed Swordsman leaning heavily against a crumbling wall, and a Rogue whose darting eyes betrayed his desire to be anywhere but here. With two of them grievously wounded, I detected the subtle shift in their postures that indicated imminent retreat.

I directed my attention to Arctur, deploying two tendrils to lift his massive frame. The lizardman's scales were scorched, but his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Alive, though badly injured.

We need to move, I told him. Can you stand?

Arctur's eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. "I... think so."

The moment shattered as heavy footsteps echoed through the ruined street. My sensors registered multiple approaching signatures, combat-ready and advancing in formation.

"Commander's coming!" the Rogue called out, relief washing over his features.

Chosun the Mighty emerged from the smoke-filled alley, flanked by five surviving warriors. The Black Knight's appearance sent cold calculations racing through my mind. His once-immaculate armor hung in tatters, dented and punctured in dozens of places. Blood seeped from a jagged wound in his side, staining the black metal. His helmet was gone, revealing a bald head crisscrossed with fresh lacerations. The ornate shield that had once proudly displayed Kaldos's emblem was now a mangled sheet of metal clutched in his left hand.

My Mind Sight detected no trace of Casper among the approaching group.

Chosun surveyed the carnage with narrowed eyes: the dismembered bodies, the blood-slicked cobblestones, the destruction wrought by my tendrils. His gaze settled on me with burning intensity.

"You will pay," he growled, voice ragged with exertion. "For every man who died today, you will suffer a thousand times over."

I rose to my full height, nine dragon-headed tendrils arcing above me like a metallic corona. You brought these men to their deaths, Chosun. Their blood stains your hands, not mine.

"I brought them to avenge our god," he spat, blood and saliva spattering the ground. "A god you murdered."

A god who challenged me, I corrected. A god who tried to kill me.

"The Godseed is meant for a worthy successor," Chosun snarled, raising his notched blade. "Not some... abomination."

He stepped forward, his remaining warriors fanning out behind him. Despite his injuries, the level 100 Black Knight moved with deadly purpose. I watched him approach, identifying optimal countermeasures and escape routes.

Then Chosun froze mid-stride.

His eyes widened, fixating on something behind me. The blood drained from his face, leaving him ashen beneath the gore and grime. His remaining warriors stepped backward instinctively, weapons lowering.

"Lord Vardin," the Assassin whispered, dropping to one knee despite his grievous wound.

I pivoted, tendrils coiling protectively around my frame.

Standing ten paces behind me was Vardin, God of Science and Knowledge. He wore simple scholar's robes, unadorned save for a long red scarf wrapped around his neck. But it was his eyes that commanded attention: golden-yellow orbs that glowed with divine power, irises absent, as if replaced by miniature suns.

The god's presence distorted reality around him, the air shimmering with barely contained power. Despite his unassuming appearance, the sheer weight of his divinity pressed down upon the mortal world.

"This foolishness has gone on long enough," Vardin said, his regal voice carrying across the devastated street. His gaze shifted to Chosun. "Wouldn't you agree?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.