repelñ

They exited the casino, lighthearted, unaware of the chaos that had unfurled beyond their control.

The once-imposing casino crumbled, a ruin of its former self. Ir. Dale remained oblivious, unaware that the energy suppressing the iron statue had been unleashed by an unseen hand.

From the wreckage, Martin emerged—a man possessed. His eyes blazed, his demeanor unhinged, as he roared a name with unbridled fury.

"Dylan! You betrayed me! You treacherous cur!"

Glenn and Linya, witnessing the spectacle, turned to flee, but Martin would not be denied. With terrifying speed, he pursued them, surpassing even Linya's swiftness.

Martin unleashed a barrage of attacks, magical blows that pummeled Glenn mercilessly. Glenn, lacking Linya's agility, was sent reeling. Now, only Linya stood to face Martin's wrath.

"What is it you seek, Martin Lughwort and Zask Theny'or?" Linya demanded, her voice steady.

Martin was consumed by rage, his attacks relentless. Yet, Linya evaded them with ease, his speed proving no match for hers.

A sardonic smile played on Linya's lips as she baited him. "You seek the artifact, don't you?"

Martin paused, but offered no reply. His fury only intensified.

"Dylan! You think your plan has succeeded, do you?!"

Abruptly, Martin ceased his assault. As Linya attempted to escape, he seized her, thwarting her retreat.

"Show yourself, Dylan..." Martin hissed.

From the shadows, a figure materialized.

"This is grotesque... what has become of your face?" Martin muttered, his expression unreadable.

Two more figures emerged.

"And the others...?"

Then, three more appeared. All were faceless, clad in synthetic leather and tattered cloaks.

Martin lunged at one of them, but it vanished. Another hurled a dagger, which Martin deflected. He retaliated, but each time he struck one down, another took its place.

The battle raged on, an endless cycle of attack and evasion. Martin, growing weary, fought with renewed ferocity. Yet, a figure slipped behind him, plunging a dagger into his back.

The blow proved inconsequential. Martin wore the Howling Mask, an artifact that neutralized all negative effects, including poison.

The venom entered his system, causing a momentary flicker of pain. He recovered instantly, unleashing a Mystic Punch that sent the cloaked figures scattering.

With a semblance of calm restored, Martin turned his attention to Glenn.

Linya attempted to intervene, seeking answers, but Martin's power was overwhelming. She was hurled aside.

Without hesitation, Martin unleashed a brutal assault on Glenn, who was defenseless.

"You provoked him, didn't you?!" Martin roared, his rage boundless.

"I did not!" Glenn protested, but Martin paid no heed. He continued his relentless beating, finally seizing Glenn's throat and hurling him into the air.

Linya, recovering from her own assault, rushed to catch Glenn before he hit the ground. However, Martin struck again, sending them both crashing to the earth, their bodies battered and bruised.

Martin's anger remained unslaked.

The sky above the ruined casino was thick with dust and embers. Martin stood amidst the rubble, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with unspent fury. Glenn and Linya lay broken, their breaths ragged.

Linya struggled to rise, but a vicious kick to her stomach sent her crashing back down.

"Don't even try," Martin growled, his voice a feral snarl. "You think you can toy with me?"

Glenn, his eyes clouded with blood from a head wound, stared up at Martin.

"Dylan... are you still blaming us? Shouldn't you be more concerned about who truly betrayed you?"

Martin hauled Glenn up, only to deliver another crushing blow.

"Don't speak of things you don't understand!"

But before Martin could strike again, tendrils of shadow snaked around his arm, binding him like living roots. The more he struggled, the tighter their grip became.

From the ruins, heavy footsteps echoed.

A figure—or something—approached.

A tall silhouette with a pair of dim white eyes glowed from beneath its hood.

Martin scoffed. "What now?"

The cloaked figure drew closer. "You are consumed by anger. It will destroy you faster than you realize."

The shadows tightened around Martin, forcing him to his knees. For the first time, Martin felt a flicker of... fear.

"So... you finally reveal yourself," Linya whispered.

The figure offered a faint smile. "The game has only just begun."

In an instant, the shadows shattered, sending Martin flying. The cloaked figure turned, vanishing into the darkness, leaving them in a suffocating silence.

Elsewhere…

Linya, on the verge of unconsciousness, tried to pull Glenn along.

"Come on, Glenn... we need to move..."

But her strength was failing. Glenn managed to stand, but his body swayed, his vision blurred. He collapsed again, his pocket vibrating with the insistent buzz of his phone.

Glenn, sustained by Unstarved, answered the call.

"It's a disaster! The knife statue is moving! It's heading south from District B, it'll reach District C soon!"

True to the warning, the ground trembled with roars and explosions. Battalions tried to halt its advance, but their efforts were futile.

The entire military mobilized. Linya's Gale Battalion, Glenn's fledgling Simp Battalion, and countless others prepared to face the monstrous threat.

Captain Walter, commander of the Tank Battalion, arrived, his cybernetic arm gleaming. With a single blow, he felled the statue.

Yet, amidst the cheers of victory, Walter sensed an ominous presence.

"Stay vigilant," he warned. "The night is far from over."

On their way back, Battalion Simp and Gale stumbled upon a fierce battle. Without hesitation, they activated the danger signal flare.

The fight was between Zask and a cloaked figure. Zask had realized he'd been deceived and was now unleashing his full power. The clash caused massive destruction—roads cracked, and buildings crumbled under the force of their blows. Time and again, Zask cornered the cloaked figure, but it was all an illusion. The figure toyed with him, like a predator playing with its prey.

Zask attacked relentlessly. "You dare deceive me, you bastard!" he roared, his fury uncontained.

"Didn't I tell you to be patient, Zask? Problems must be solved at a price," the cloaked figure replied, his movements almost friendly, as if they were old comrades. "Consider this trial my gift to you," he added, his tone mocking.

"Enough talk!" Zask shouted. "Shuunpo Phoenix!"

In a flash, Zask appeared behind the cloaked figure, ready to strike. But the figure vanished, only to reappear—multiplied into six identical forms. Each one drove a dagger into Zask's vital points. With that single attack, Zask was defeated. Yet, he refused to give up. Summoning every buff skill he possessed, he launched another assault. But it was futile; Zask was no real threat to his opponent.

With fists hardened, Zask grabbed the cloaked figure and slammed him into the ground with all his might. But once again, it was a trick. "Want to see another trick?" the figure taunted.

As Zask swung to strike, the figure disappeared, reappearing behind him to stab him in the back. This sequence repeated six times, leaving Zask battered and on the brink of collapse. The battle was hopelessly one-sided.

From a distance, Battalion Gale and Simp watched in horror, realizing the terrifying power of the cloaked figure. They turned back, unwilling to intervene.

The cloaked figure noticed them but let them go. He turned his attention back to Zask, choking him before slamming him into the ground. Over and over, he drove his dagger into Zask's abdomen. Zask groaned in agony, powerless against his tormentor. The cloaked figure laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the ruins. This was a being who stood above all others,