Floating Islands: SSS Gacha Lord

Atlas had maximized every ounce of his subordinates' unique abilities, most notably Baldric's terrifying talent for crafting large-scale, devastating explosives.

The traps had been laid long before the Dominion Skirmish began, meticulously planned and assembled back in Gacha Haven. Baldric had spent that time obsessing over one goal: how to create detonations so powerful, so overwhelming, they could obliterate enemies by the hundreds. Against all odds, in that short span, he and the others had managed to make it possible.

One explosion after another ripped through Alliance B's army, tearing their formation apart and leaving a trail of carnage. Countless soldiers fell. Some slain instantly, others writhing in agony from their wounds.

Those who survived the blasts were hardly better off. Their strength was spent, their stamina and energy drained to nothing after the brutal struggle against the Raid Monster.

Just as he had promised Luna. Atlas would defeat Alliance B.

And this was how he would do it.

The explosions had broken them. Now, only the hunt remained.

His troops had one final mission, eliminate every last survivor before they could retreat or rally reinforcements.

Alliance B had to be annihilated tonight.

As if guided by one mind, Atlas's army surged forward, thundering across the snow before vanishing into the yawning darkness of the cave. Their charge was relentless, a storm crashing down to deliver the killing blow.

And when the echoes of their advance faded, only two figures remained at the cave's mouth.

Atlas. And at his side, the Vampire Queen, Morganna.

Atlas turned to her. Her eyes glowed a piercing crimson, the same eerie light that always heralded the moment she was about to feed.

"I need to borrow your power," he said.

Morganna's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "You'll lose your humanity… long before you ever become a true vampire."

Without another word, she leaned in, her face close to his.

Her lips pressed against his, before her fangs sank in.

The instant they pierced, the air erupted. A surge of crimson power burst outward, shadows and blood-red light twisting together in a violent, beautiful storm that consumed them both.

[Morganna's Bloodlink has activated. You have entered Temporary Vampire Mode.]

Morganna stepped back from Atlas, her fangs retreating just as the rush of her bite settled into him.

Once again, she had injected that dangerous gift, temporary vampire mode.

At once, Atlas felt it. The surge of raw strength coursing through his veins, igniting every muscle, sharpening every sense.

And just like before… It was intoxicating. Addictive. A rush so fierce and unnatural it threatened to drown out reason itself.

Surely, nothing this powerful could be good.

It shouldn't be.

But he didn't indulge often, only in dire moments like this, when he needed every edge he could grasp. Not until the day came when he was ready to fully embrace the transformation.

"So… may I kill everyone I find inside?" Morganna asked, her voice unnervingly calm, though the excitement lacing beneath it was impossible to miss.

"This isn't like you," Atlas replied dryly. "Since when do you bother asking for permission?"

Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. She didn't bother answering. Instead, she turned, her crimson eyes gleaming as she strode toward the cave.

"Don't die just yet," she murmured over her shoulder. "Not after the little boost I've given you."

And with that, the Vampire Queen dissolved into motion, her form vanishing into the cave with a speed no human eye could follow, swallowed by the shadows.

Atlas remained standing at the entrance, alone, his crimson-tinged gaze fixed on the battlefield ahead.

He turned his gaze toward the sky, where the moon seemed to shine even brighter…

Or… No.

It wasn't that the moon had changed brighter. It was the temporary transformation coursing through his veins. The darkness no longer felt oppressive. The cold no longer bit at his skin.

Now. He could move faster. Strike harder. Kill more efficiently.

Atlas glanced at his status screen, quickly scanning through it. His level had risen several times during his time here.

[Level: 53]

[Strength: 239 | Agility: 165 | Intelligence: 112 | Constitution: 127 | Stamina: 142]

[Available Stat Points: 0]

[Job: The Lord]

[Class: Tempest Warden]

[Ironclad Will (S) - Tactical Awareness (A) - Instinctual Command (A) - Elemental Spear Mastery (S) - Elemental Dominion (S) - Commanding Presence (S) - Bloodbound Vigor (S)]

Level 53.

A number that would've drawn laughter from the Scout-rank Lords who roamed this island, or even from their soldiers.

Imagine it, someone barely Level 53 standing on a Rank 2 Island?

Surely, it sounded like a bad joke.

And yet…

With the temporary Vampire Mode surging through his veins. With his stat points pushed far beyond what his level should allow. He was easily 20%… maybe even 30% stronger than normal. Perhaps even more.

With a calm, steady breath, Atlas summoned his Legendary-grade Wavebreaker Spear into his grip.

Now came the true question. At his current level, could he actually win in a one-on-one fight against a Scout-rank Lord? Against someone at least Level 100? Did he even stand a chance?

No—

Not if he was truly alone.

But Atlas wasn't.

He had Zefyros, his Spirit Beast.

He had his Legendary-grade Spear.

He wasn't just some ordinary Seeker-rank Lord.

Atlas stood with his back to the cave's mouth, his gaze fixed on the snow-blanketed clearing ahead. A thin layer of frost had fallen overnight, covering all traces of his troops' movements. Their footprints, their presence, it was as if they had never been there.

And now… his true opponent was coming.

This moment existed only because of Kurogasa's tireless work. The assassin had spent countless hours studying the enemy and uncovered something startling. One of their foes possessed a system so absurdly powerful it defied belief.

An ability to erase their own mistakes!

A lord who could anchor a fixed point in time, and when faced with death, could return to that very moment, resetting reality as if the fatal error had never occurred.

And indeed… though the man had been engulfed in the devastating chain of explosions inside the cave, here he stood now, alive, striding toward Atlas.

But the ability wasn't perfect. Far from it.

The proof was written across his body. His heavy armor split with jagged cracks, streaks of blood running down his face.

He was a tall figure with long blond hair, encased in battered steel, a colossal shield gripped tight in his left hand. His steps were heavy, deliberate, unyielding, the snow crunching beneath him as he advanced through the freezing air.

"Atlas…" the man's voice rumbled low, yet steady, his eyes narrowing with a grim smile. "Am I finally allowed to say… that you are quite the cunning one?"

It was none other than Kaelzar, the same lord who, before the Dominion Skirmish had even begun, had extended an invitation for Atlas to join their alliance.

Now, instead of allies, they stood as enemies.

Atlas stepped forward, his grip tightening on the Wavebreaker Spear as he met Kaelzar's approach head-on. His eyes locked with the blond lord's, steady and unflinching.

"And may I say this?" Atlas's voice carried cold steel. "You're rather confident to still be standing here, battered and bleeding as you are. And your troops…"

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Perhaps you're already seeing the system messages, watching the names of your men vanish one by one. Each one a victim of my supposedly weak army!"