Bandit Strike 2

The moment Lucas used his skill and struck the soldier, the effect was unimaginable. The soldier didn't even get a chance to respond before it felt like a whole mountain came crashing down on him. The force of the blow was so powerful that it created shockwaves into the earth, causing it to crack and sink several meters. A deafening shockwave of air and dust followed, and the punch created a miniature earthquake that rocked all that stood around them. The soldier fell silently, knocked out by the suffocating pressure.

Lucas barely looked at him before shifting his focus to the other bandits in his home. He moved fastly , struck them down, taking each one down in a second. Their guns and knives couldn't stand a chance against his incredible strength. One by one, they fell—some tossed through walls, others knocked unconscious with a punch. The house shook from the force of his punches, but he didn't have time to worry about the damage.

No sooner had the last bandit hit the ground than Lucas sprinted and ran to Mark, who leaned against a smashed chair. Kneeling beside him, Lucas grasped his son's shoulders and inspected his injuries with worried eyes. Mark groaned but managed to open his eyes, though he was in shock but very much alive.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked frantically.

Mark weakly nodded. "I'll be okay. Just a little dizzy."

Lucas felt relieved, but there was no time to waste. He carefully lifted Mark and carried him to a safer part of the house, placing him gently on a wooden bench. "Stay here. Don't move too much. I'll be back."

Mark had intended to protest, but Lucas was already gone, running at the Baron's residence with incredible speed. The ground crumbled beneath his every step as he pulled forward desperately, fighting the clock. A whirlwind whipped around him of dust and pieces of rubble in the night.

Upon arrival at the Baron's residence, what he saw took his heart still faster. The battle was much greater than he expected. Bandits had surrounded the estate, battling soldiers and knights in a chaotic battle. The Baron, Oscar Zephyrus, was trapped in the midst of the chaos, battling ten bandits at once. No matter his skill, he was struggling to hold them off. 

Lucas shoved his fists into his pockets. He had not expected the extent of this attack. This was no common raid—it was an organized attack.

The other knights who heard previous fights, ran alongside Lucas, having their arms up and ready and their eyes wide open. Reading the situation right away, they charged with him, throwing themselves into the fight. The air was filled with the stench of blood and the sound of clashing steel.

Lucas didn't flinch. He charged into battle, the ground shaking under him as he dispatched enemies with brute strength. Bandits flew through the air in every direction as he charged like a whirlwind of destruction. Even in combat, though, he observed the Baron.

Initially, Oscar Zephyrus lost. The people around him, who were considered his enemies, were too numerous. But Lucas knew that the bandits did something very terrible—they underestimated him.

Because Oscar Zephyrus was a Tier 4.

Amongst the kingdom warriors, Tier 4s were the one of the strongest ones. There were barely a few dozens in the whole kingdom, and Oscar was one of them. He had been keeping himself in control, holding back to wait for the best opportunity to let out his true strength.

His low voice cut through the chaos. "No more waiting."

Oscar raised his hand, using his strongest technique.

[Great Hurricane]

A powerful gust of wind flowed from his shape, bursting into the air with a deafening boom. In a moment, a huge whirlwind was created, its whirling gusts dominating the Baron's residence. The violent tempest swept all that was unmoored into its vortex power—bandits, weapons, and broken rubble. The ground shook beneath the tempest's might.

Even from afar, Mark, who was not yet fully recovered from his experience, witnessed what was happening. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the monstrous tornado take shape, dragging along the enemies as if they were loose dry leaves. He could sense the power in the air, erupting with power. But something was odd—the tornado only targeted the bandits. It was as if it was under Oscar's control, moving away from the rest of the crowd.

Mark let out a tense breath, at last understanding how important magic and powers were here. They weren't weapons—rather, they were forces of fate that could change destiny.

As the last bandits were swept away, their screams carried far off in the distance, Mark let his exhaustion overwhelm him and slowly fell asleep