Floating Island - Triple S Talent

"Elder Lein has granted us permission to move," Efan said, his voice now livelier, like he was delivering long-awaited good news. "If you manage to kill those three Grandmasters, he's promised a special reward."

For a moment, the two old men stood in silence, as if they couldn't believe what they'd just heard. Their eyes shifted from doubt to sharp focus, and a spark of excitement lit up in their previously weary gazes.

"Is what you're saying true, Young Friend Efan?" Takarra asked seriously. Behind his usual calm, a flicker of hesitation remained. In situations like this, it was rare for any elder to offer personal rewards just for eliminating enemies.

Normally, the sect only offered official compensation in the form of war points. A reward directly from an elder? That was almost unheard of.

Efan raised an eyebrow slightly, as if the question didn't warrant repeating. "You have my word. A Legendary Chest isn't out of the question."

At the mention of a "Legendary Chest," the two elders' eyes widened instantly. No further explanation was needed—they exchanged a single look, a wordless understanding forged through years of camaraderie, then nodded firmly. The silence between them spoke volumes: this was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss.

"I'll head out, then," Takarra said, his voice brimming with renewed spirit. Before his words even faded into the air, his figure vanished, leaving behind only a faint shimmer from his teleportation aura.

Efan turned slowly toward the other old man with dark hair, who still stood in front of him. His gaze was calm, but probing. "Lord Takarra seems quite fired up. What about you, Lord Veldor?"

Veldor chuckled softly, his laugh rough but warm. "Haha, yes, Young Master Efan. Even though Takarra's age is approaching its limit, his spirit's still younger than all of us." He glanced at the spot where Takarra had disappeared, as if he could still sense his old friend's lingering fire.

Then, Veldor turned his attention back to Efan, his eyes steady and full of trust. "In that case, I'll go as well. I'll leave that one to you." With a faint smile, he too disappeared, vanishing into the same subtle shimmer of energy.

Efan stared at the empty space where the two had vanished, a wide grin spreading across his face. In his heart, he recalled Lein's private message—the one that had sent a surge of excitement through his veins.

"If you can hold your own against one of the enemy's Grandmasters, I'll enhance your innate talent."

Those words echoed clearly in his mind. Efan clenched his fist lightly. His rare gift, the Eye of Fortune, currently only guided him toward material fortune—treasures, hidden locations, and the like. But… if that ability could evolve?

The thought of his power growing to detect threats, opportunities, even fortune in combat, ignited something deep within him. He couldn't afford to fail. He had to hold on long enough. He had to earn Lein's reward.

Efan's gaze shifted toward one of the enemy Grandmasters, the one tearing through his robotic troops. The old man stood in the middle of the battlefield, wrapped in a gray aura, long chains coiling around both arms like living serpents—slashing and tearing through the mechanical soldiers without resistance.

In an instant, Efan's body was cloaked in bright violet light. All his high-grade purple-tier gear activated simultaneously, releasing a quiet yet deadly magical energy. A long rifle materialized at his side—nearly two meters in length, equipped with a magical scope and a transparent tube filled with white liquid along its barrel.

Without rushing, Efan felt the subtle flow of his Fortune Eye channel into the weapon. He adjusted the barrel's angle, fully charged the central tube with energy, then slowly raised the rifle, aiming straight at the Grandmaster's head.

That old man—the one cutting down Efan's robotic army—fought with brutal precision. The chains in his hands lashed out like executioner's whips, crushing and shredding through metal bodies. Each swing wiped out multiple units, turning the battlefield into a storm of sparks and shattered steel.

"Damn it… so you're the reason," Efan muttered under his breath, lips curling into a thin, anger-laced smile.

He lifted the long rifle. The magical scope locked onto the enemy's silhouette. A red targeting mark zeroed in on the Grandmaster's body—the auto-aim system adapting to the enemy's movements and mana fluctuations. Efan's finger hovered over the trigger.

Then—

Fire.

The rifle started to hum. Energy gathered in its rear chamber, shifting from pure white to a glowing crimson—signaling it had reached maximum charge. That energy surged down the metallic barrel, through the fortune-infused liquid tube, and exploded from the muzzle in a silent burst.

Bang...!

Efan's body jolted slightly from the recoil, but he held his stance. He quickly looked through the scope again, breath held as he watched the old man pause... then slowly tilt his head, eyes staring directly at where Efan had fired from.

Their eyes met. Through the scope, the Grandmaster's gaze was dark—piercing, sharp, like it could cut straight through the lens and into Efan's soul.

"Shit… he noticed too fast," Efan muttered, frustration and pressure tightening in his chest.

In mere seconds, the energy bullet was stopped. The old man's chains spun in the air, forming a curved shield in front of him. When the shot hit the barrier, it exploded violently—but didn't touch the Grandmaster at all. Metallic dust and energy shockwaves rippled out, destroying nearby robots, but the man remained untouched, not even a scratch.

Seeing that, Efan exhaled slowly. He slung the long rifle over his back, then reached for his magic belt, pulling out two short-range weapons. Their design was unusual—rounded at the back with large glowing muzzles, reminiscent of the plasma rifles from the video games he used to play as a kid.

Without hesitation, he infused both weapons with his Fortune element, pouring in energy until the side indicators glowed a bright violet—signaling full capacity.

"All right… time to get used to this." He muttered quietly, but with growing excitement.

He raised his hand and opened a violet portal before him—a small gate that led directly to the Grandmaster's location. There was no hesitation in his movement, no fear in his eyes. Instead, a small smile began to bloom on his face—like someone who had finally found a worthy challenge.

Without a sound, without any unnecessary movement, Efan stepped into the portal—armed with his twin short-range weapons and a burning resolve to prove himself.