Villain Ch 1831. Emperor Hunt Slaughter
Searing, screaming, thick as napalm.
The air boiled.
Shields shattered.
Low-levels screamed before they even registered what spell hit them.
Players burned in place—melting inside their armor.
Only Vash and five others survived the first volley, diving behind a reinforced ward field.
"THE FCK?!"
"No lock-on warning! No circle!"
Vash's heart thundered. Not in panic—but calculation.
That voice.
That speed.
That presence.
He wasn't watching from the sky.
He wasn't throwing taunts.
He wasn't showing off.
He was hunting.
And he was close.
"STAY TOGETHER," Vash barked. "HOLD FORMATION! TANK LINE—ROTATE RIGHT!"
Shields shifted with a thunderous clatter. Five players remained. Just five. Out of thirty. Out of an entire goddamn battalion. Their armor was scorched. And their voices? Frayed with that kind of edge that only came from watching friends die screaming.
