[Scanning....]
[Lv?????]
[Threat Rank: ??]
Lungard could hear his own breath. It was a harsh, rasping sound, loud in his ears over the crackle of the dying portal. Every stroke of his heaving chest was a labor. He looked at the naked man with furrowed brows.
The scan... it's the same as those kids. But what is this... this... pressure? I have the Aura of Cold. I shouldn't be... trembling!
His fingers were trembling. He watched, horrified, as his gauntleted hand shook. Every taut muscle screamed at him. Adrenaline rushed, demanding a choice.
Fight or flight.
Against this man. A man who had nothing but killing, burning eyes of murder.
[Lurk]
The slender assassin, Tampo, said inwardly. His silhouette blended with his surroundings, his form wavering like a heat haze. He looked at Lyon's bare muscles, his bare limbs. He's too open. Far too open for someone emitting that much killing intent. It's a trap.
That thought made him sweat. Each careful, silent step was taken, as he circled to find an opening.
"Where are the—?!" Lyon's eyes stopped.
They locked onto the ground. Onto the blood. A dark, crimson trail, leading directly from where his sons had fallen...
...to the "Black Portal."
His fingers buried into his palms, his nails digging into his own flesh.
Clank. Clank. Clank...
Lungard stared at his own greatsword. The jade-green blade, which had been pulsing with a steady, confident energy, was now struggling in his hands. It was vibrating, not with power, but with fear.
"What the... What's going on?"
The slender assassin, Tampo, looked at his party leader, who could hardly maintain a balanced stance. Tampo gulped. Running away seems impossible. The Leader's "Aura" is being crushed. We have to kill him now— Huh?
A hand. A hand overshadowed his face. Before he could even process the movement, the hand was planted directly against his face.
He... he saw me?! Impossible! Not even Lungard could—! Tch, at least my 'Mask of the Void' will—
CRACK!
One hold. That was all it took. His magic mask, his "Epic" class item, cracked and shattered under the immense pressure of Lyon's sheer, physical grip.
Tampo's head deformed instantaneously.
Lungard saw his most agile ally—a man who could dance between raindrops—drop dead without a single shriek. Just a wet, heavy thud of broken bones and ruined flesh.
Tampo... Tampo was a Level 94 Assassin...!
"Tch! [Gravity Root]!" Lungard screamed, extending his hand.
The full pressure of his Level 90 skill slammed down on Lyon. The air thickened, the ground cracked—
Lyon didn't even flinch.
Lungard's heart stopped. He threw himself back, diving into the safety of the Black Portal.
Behind the portal was a plain, green meadow. The wind was blowing nicely. It had a nice, mountainous view, and a few dozen tents were erected, with various parties settling in. There was a boiling pot over a fire, a knight warming up his muscles. A mage resting. A lot of parties were here. It was a "Forward Camp."
The peaceful atmosphere was immediately shattered by Lungard's arrival.
He crashed to the ground, landing on all fours, rasping for breath. His heartbeat was the closest, loudest sound in the world.
Then he heard the voice of his party mate, the archer. "L-Lungard...? What's the matter? Where's Tampo?"
The archer's shout made the other parties turn wary in an instant.
Lungard snapped out of it and staggered to his feet. He walked with a hastened, panicked pace toward the archer. "Where is she!?"
"Who? Bijia? She and Brok already made way toward the nearest village inn."
"Already?!" the archer asked.
"Yeah, and the last kid you brought in was manhandled by Brok right away— hey, what's the matter?"
"EVERYONE!" Lungard made a loud shout, his voice cracking with a terror that silenced the camp. "A monster! A monster of a man is going to come out of that Black Portal! Just this once... we need to take him down together!"
"W-What?! So Tampo—"
"Dead," Lungard said, his voice cold. He beckoned to the other "boss-level" party leaders. "All of us are approaching Level 100. But this time, the foe is... formidable. The loot... the loot, we can discuss after it drops from him!"
"Him?" the archer gulped. He looked at the portal.
He saw a single, naked foot stepping inside.
"[Supreme Scan]!" One High Priest, the leader of a "Cleric" party, immediately activated his skill just before Lyon could touch the grass. "I will exploit his weakness! This will take no t—..."
The High Priest's pupils trembled. They shrank to pinpricks. His lips gaped.
Then, Lyon stepped fully outside the portal.
He furrowed his brows. His shoulders stiffened. He could feel something... an "alien" energy, a wrong energy, trying to repel him. 'This is not Mana... not Anti-Mana... nor Ley. What is this foreign energy? A Fourth World? Yggdrasil, that piece of old root!'
"Oi, High Priest, what's wrong?" a duelist asked, his hand on his blade.
The High Priest was shaking. He couldn't speak. He just stared at the red-soaked scan results in his vision.
---
Meanwhile, in a carriage, pulled by an unknown beast that looked like a two-footed, giant, elegant chicken.
Lexel leaned against the wall. His world was a haze. He was still, somehow, the only one with a thread of consciousness.
Brok, the burly brute, was the driver of the carriage. Inside, Bijia was carefully inspecting the trio. Her body moved casually, her dark robes rustling. She smirked. "Even though you're clinging to life, you're still handsome."
Lexel managed to throw in a smirk. "Too bad... I can't... woo you."
"Oh my," her metal claw walked across his chin as she leaned forward, her purple eyes sparkling. "Don't you want to see? I'm wearing nothing under my battle robe."
"I... do..." Lexel coughed, blood trickling from his lip.
"Hahahaha!" she slapped him, a hard, stinging blow that rattled his broken ribs. She pulled his face back up. "No, no. That's not how a slave should behave."
"Slave?" Lexel frowned. "You think... I want to be... your slave?"
"You think you have the will to kill yourself?" Bijia scoffed. "Hmph! You can't even lift your hands."
"Heh," Lexel smirked.
Bijia smirked back. "You must be thinking that you'll be saved, right? Your... rich Daddy is going to save you? Oh, I can tell. I can tell from the luxury fabric you wore. You're not from a lowly family. You're... royalty? Well, you can forget about all that soon..."
She looked out the carriage window. "No need to worry about inheritance. No politics. Just... serve me, till you run out of bones."
"Hahahaha!" Brok laughed from the driver's seat.
Lexel's expression was neutral. 'This woman is crazy. Dad warned me about this kind of lady. Never stick your dick in crazy. No matter how big their boobs are... or how smooth her skin is...'
Bijia clamped Lexel's cheek with one hand, her metal claws digging in. "Why are you so... calm?"
"Because... my dad is going to save me," Lexel whispered. "At least... he would try."
"Heh. He probably hired some mercenaries to do his bidding," Bijia shrugged, bored.
"I don't think so," Lexel said, his voice clear. "At least... it won't be today. Because today... today is the only day... I shouldn't have summoned him like that."
"Summon? You can do 'summoning magic'?"
"No. He cannot," a new, weak voice said. "But I can."
"Myda!" Lexel tried to hug his brother, but his hands were tied.
"Oi," Myda rasped.
"Oi," Seleron responded, his voice a pained groan.
"Oi," the three of them said together.
"Huh?" Bijia was taken aback. 'Oh my god, are they autistic?!'
"Following what Lexel... had just said," Seleron managed to say, "Today... is their anniversary."
"Oh? How sweet," Bijia said, her tone mocking. "Your mother will miss your daddy soon, though."
"Which... one?" asked the three of them.
"W-What?" Brok's voice came from outside. "Your father has more than one wife?"
"Mother Cecile... Mother Selena... Mother Maria... Mother Luna... Mother Lumina... and, well... 'Mommy' Veritas... sometimes came to play with Dad..." Lexel listed, his voice fading.
"I-I..." Bijia was lost for words. Brok was laughing his lungs out.
"So..." Lexel dropped a cold tone, "I reckon... he'd be pretty... pissed. You just... ruined us... and his anniversary... hm?"
In front of three pairs of eyes, a notification popped up. A new screen, in a new color.
[Welcome, Lexel Torga]
[Welcome, Seleron Torga]
[Welcome, Myda Torga]
They blinked. And as one, they simultaneously felt their goosebumps rise... and they passed out.
Bijia was lost for words. "W..What's the matter with these kids."
Then the earth trembled. A loud explosion—a sound so powerful it tore the clouds above—rocked the carriage. The "chicken-beast" panicked. Brok was struggling to maintain it.
Bijia stepped out of the carriage... only to see a column of fire and black smoke smoking up the sky.
"That's... that's where the Black Portal is," she whispered, her face pale.
---
Under the great fire, many mangled corpses were strewn. No tent stood erected. Lungard was in a state of entire disbelief. He looked side to side. Only corpses—corpses of "high-level" people—fashioned his view.
They... they didn't stand a chance. They couldn't even... graze him. And he is... he's fucking NAKED!
Lyon walked through the fire as if it was nothing.
It's not over yet! I have enough AP... to pull... another Giga Slash!
"Oi, homeless man! Take THIS!" Lungard's sword hung in the air, in the same hung as before. It was fueled with his hope, his vengeance for his dead friends.
"HaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHH!" he slashed toward Lyon.
Lyon whispered, his voice lost under the ruckus, "Almighty Ox." His eyes turned amber. A pair of horns grew from his forehead, and a little earring on his right ear.
The "Giga Slash" brightened the bright day. It destroyed the forest far, far away.
Lungard was heaving uncontrollably, his knees giving up on him. "Damn it... I never thought... I would use another Giga Slash... in a single day."
"Giga Slash?"
Lyon's voice was like a cold shower.
"Huh?"
Lungard looked up. His sword... his ultimate attack... it hadn't penetrated. It had been stopped... ...by Lyon's bare hand.
He was... unscathed.
"Tch! Haaahh!" In a last, desperate attempt, Lungard raised his glowing greatsword again.
Lyon slapped it away. The slap alone—a simple, contemptuous move—destroyed the blade. The metal shattered, and the runes within it oozed like gas.
Lyon grabbed Lungard by the armor. His grip bent the "Legendary" plate like it was made out of bendable wires. He lifted the "Level 90" Knight up with one hand.
"Where?" asked Lyon.