Chapter 227: Destroy The Cursed (44)
Bron's fists glowed with radiant white energy, his gauntlets wrapped in a holy aura as he charged headlong into the dreadknight.
Every swing of his fist shook the air, colliding with the monstrous knight's obsidian armor in bursts of light and sparks.
It was close-quarter combat, the kind Bron thrived in—yet it quickly became clear this was no ordinary opponent.
The dreadknight was fast. Far too fast.
Faster than anything Bron had ever fought before.
Before he could land his second punch, the monster slipped through his guard with unnatural agility, weaving like a shadow between his strikes.
Its armored fist lashed forward, enhanced by a surge of pure darkness. The blow carried a weight that could crush stone into dust.
Bron's instincts screamed.
Planting both feet firmly on the ground, he raised his gauntlet. White light bloomed around him as the dreadful impact slammed into his guard.
The clash sent a shockwave ripping outward, dragging him across the floor with a long screech of grinding stone. His arms trembled, gauntlets sparking under the pressure.
The monster was fast. The monster was strong. Stronger than anything Bron had encountered since he'd become a Hero.
He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his brow.
These things… these dreadknights… they're no ordinary monsters. They're calamities.
Back in the Silver Guild, Bron rarely had to dirty his hands. As a high-ranking member, his assignments were carefully chosen, threats carefully calculated.
He had faced strong beasts before, yes—but nothing like this. Nothing that radiated such suffocating malice.
Ever since the Silver Guild's collapse and his step into the ranks of the Tryst Guild, his life had been nothing but one deadly encounter after another.
More near-death situations than he could count. More risks than he'd ever imagined himself taking.
And yet, because of all that… he was stronger now. Stronger than ever.
Even so—compared to the dreadknight, he still felt lacking.
The creature lunged again, its clawed fist plunging forward like a spear of darkness.
But this time, Bron wasn't alone.
A whistle split the air.
A dark-purple arrow screamed across the battlefield at an impossible speed, wrapped in a faint black haze that shimmered ominously. Shin's shot.
Bron's eyes narrowed. Timing was everything.
With a roar, he twisted the dreadknight's fist aside, dragging its arm with the strength of his glowing gauntlets.
His own energy fists flared outward, tendrils of white light wrapping around the monster's limbs, binding it in place just long enough.
The dreadknight's eyes flashed crimson in fury. With raw strength, it tore free—its arm ripping off in the process, shredded completely from its armored shoulder. A guttural roar of pain and rage shook the battlefield.
The arrow missed its head, instead piercing its ankle, black ichor spraying as it staggered in midair.
But Bron wasn't done.
His energy swelled, white light gathering in his palm. He clenched his fist—this time unrestrained.
Power exploded outward, forming a massive glowing strike. With a primal shout, he unleashed it.
The colossal white fist slammed into the dreadknight, hurling the creature across the field like a broken puppet.
And right into Shin's waiting aim.
Shin's hands trembled as he drew back the string of his bow, veins bulging along his arms. The arrow he held glowed a deep, corrupted violet, edged with streaks of black lightning.
His face twisted with strain, his eyes bloodshot from the sheer pressure of holding such unstable energy.
The air distorted around the arrow, vibrating dangerously.
"Now!" Bron bellowed.
The dreadknight soared helplessly toward Shin, its wings of darkness broken, its armor fractured. It realized the danger far too late.
The arrow was aimed directly at its head. A direct hit would be catastrophic.
With desperation born of survival, the dreadknight poured every drop of its dark essence into a barrier before its face. Shadows solidified into a wall of black iron, its will forcing them into existence.
For an instant, its crimson eyes flickered with relief.
The arrow loosed.
Shin's scream tore from his throat as the corrupted shot ripped through the battlefield like a falling star.
The dreadknight's barrier lasted less than a heartbeat. The arrow tore straight through the darkness as if it didn't exist, piercing the knight's helmet clean through.
There was silence.
Then—
The dreadknight's head exploded in a shower of gore, black ichor raining down like diseased rain.
The limp, headless body of the Dreadknight crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, shaking the broken battlefield beneath Shin's boots.
Dark ichor spilled like tar, staining the soil around him. Shin stood over it, his bow still trembling in his grip, his chest heaving violently with each breath.
His face carried a mask of neutrality—cold, detached—but the sweat streaming down his temple and the faint tremor in his limbs betrayed the truth.
He was drained. Completely.
That last arrow—the one that had reached the dreaded dark-purple hue—had nearly consumed him. Channeling that much power through his body had felt like pouring molten metal through his veins.
His energy reserves were scorched, strained to the breaking point. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to collapse, but he refused. His eyes never left the fallen Dreadknight, as if afraid that, somehow, it might rise again.
"Are you alright?" Bron's voice broke through the ringing silence. He approached slowly, his heavy gauntlets still glowing faintly from his earlier clash with the monster.
Shin forced his eyes upward, meeting his friend's worried gaze. For a moment, the weight of exhaustion threatened to pull his expression down, but instead, a tired smile tugged at his lips.
"Well… I feel great," Shin said, his voice raspy yet laced with a spark of humor. "Just imagine Raven's face when we tell him we actually managed to take down an A-Rank monster on our own. I bet he'll choke on his drink."
Bron's lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. The mention of Raven tugged at memories both fond and painful. "Yeah… he'd be shocked," Bron murmured softly, almost to himself. "Too bad he's not here to see us growing stronger."
TO be continued...
AUTHOR'S NOTE
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– Ultra