Heinous Crimes

After that, the third row seemed to freeze. Everyone who had been ignoring what was happening and focusing on their own tasks turned to watch.

A rookie, with help from other rookies, had just taken down a veteran Summoner and his partner—both experienced and powerful.

Niara didn't show the slightest concern. She just flapped her wings and vanished. Like a ghost, she shot straight at Agral, who was nearby.

"You bitch!" he roared, consumed by rage.

Niara was almost out of energy. Darian had only given her 30% of the ring's power to transform, so now that there was just one target left, she moved with precision, avoiding any waste.

She threw a punch before Agral and his partner could turn into lightning and try to escape.

He was definitely experienced—he managed to dodge part of the hit. Forced to retreat again, the Summoner coughed blood. Suddenly, he turned, startled—a barrage of long-range attacks rained down on him.

The rookies with magic-type blessings had attacked in sync, capitalizing on the opening.

*BOOM!*

The strike landed clean. But the Spiritual Guardian burned a huge chunk of its ring power to protect the Summoner.

"PLEASE! SPARE ME!"

A desperate scream echoed.

Niara was already far away, holding that woman with dragon Bloodline by the neck with one hand. In the other, she completely restrained the woman's partner.

"Spare you?" the slug's cold voice cut through, "Were you merciful to the rookies who died? Merciful to all the demonic beasts that died because of you in the trial? And now you beg? Dying by our hands is the kindest end you could hope for."

The woman trembled with despair, but didn't say another word. Niara tightened her grip, killing her in a burst of blood.

Right after that, her Spiritual Guardian died too.

Then Darian activated the dark power he'd implanted in the man with the Dragon Bloodline, who was still pinned to the ground.

Tarn was already in position. "Mind Puppet!"

"YOU BASTARDS!" roared the man's Spiritual Guardian, who had been thrown aside by Niara when she grabbed the woman.

*CRACK!*

A lightning spear hit him in the back. Zibia and Artesia, who had also recovered 1% of their power, didn't show an ounce of mercy finishing him off.

Now, both who had received Darian's dark power were under Tarn's mental control.

The whole fight had lasted less than three minutes. Everyone nearby, at the end of the third row, was now shocked and intimidated.

As for Agral and his partner, they were overcome by despair. Just as they were hesitating between fighting or running, Niara was already moving in, exploiting their hesitation.

He realized he couldn't run, so he focused on defending.

He could tell Niara barely had any energy left and figured she was burning through her partner's power fast.

In his mind, the Slug probably had some weird blessing that made his Summoner stronger—a double-edged sword: lots of power for a very limited time.

He wasn't the only one who thought that. Everyone else watching the fight, while the next wave of Risen hadn't arrived yet, came to the same conclusion.

But...

Niara, hovering above, let out a breath. Her fists, now glowing with martial energy, changed.

A black flame appeared—and everyone forgot to breathe.

That power… it was way stronger than anything she'd shown earlier. How was that even possible?

In that moment, Agral and his partner turned pale as ghosts.

They were trapped under a terrifying aura. It felt like they were standing before a ruthless goddess of death, her scythe slowly approaching.

"YOU CRAZY BITCH! THINK I'M AFRAID OF YOU?!"

Right away, Agral pulled out a bunch of self-destruction and defensive inscriptions. He and his partner were a speed-and-offense combo, but lacked strong defenses—so they'd invested heavily in expensive emergency protection items.

They were so confident in those artifacts, they believed they could even escape a peak Risen or someone at two-ring level.

His defenses had barely formed when a black punch came flying in.

*BOOM!*

The blow slammed into all his protections. Every single defensive measure he'd just summoned exploded on the spot.

The ground shook violently, and a blast of fierce wind ripped out in all directions. The earth was stripped of a layer of rock. Even the rookies got blown back by the force of it.

When the dust finally settled, everyone saw a body lying a few meters in front of Niara.

Agral was coughing up blood nonstop, every bone in his body shattered, twisted and broken. His Spiritual Guardian was about three meters away, looking like a crushed and broken toy.

She walked toward the Summoner slowly.

As she got closer, she kicked him, flipping him onto his back. Then, she placed her foot on his chest.

"... go ahead and kill me... either way... you're gonna die too... hahaha... cough..." Agral muttered, already resigned to the fact that he was done for.

"Too bad. You'll never see that day," answered the cold voice of a slug, which crawled out from the Dragoness's clothes and settled on her shoulder.

Everyone on the battlefield watched in shock. It was like they couldn't even hear their own heartbeat.

The Dragoness wore a blank expression, just like the slug. Everyone— even from a distance—realized the truth: she and her partner weren't exhausted at all. They'd completely misjudged them.

"Stop!" shouted a voice, just as five figures came rushing in from the north.

They were Summoners with their partners beside them—bigger than average for a one-ring. Each had two rings and had been fighting on the front line of the third row, but had turned back once they realized what was going on.

Their leader was a man with draconic scales covering parts of his body—handsome and cold-looking. He had a dragon Bloodline, but clearly from an older generation.

"You shameless lunatic! You dare kill your allies in a place this dangerous?! Your heinous crimes already earned you a death sentence, so hurry up and release him!" he shouted at Niara.

When Agral heard the man, he smiled. He had already accepted his death—but now, his eyes lit up.

"Hehe, let's see you try and kill me now! Big bro's here. The moment you do, he's gonna crush you like a bug!" Whether it was from excitement or something else, a sudden wave of energy surged through Agral.

"Release him? That's ridiculous. If we've already earned a death sentence, why the hell would I let him go? Do you people think about anything before speaking?" Darian mocked. He didn't think of himself as a genius, but in this universe, he'd come to realize there were more brainless people than he'd thought. Did power melt their brains?

The cold man narrowed his eyes, and a flicker of killing intent showed in his gaze. If there had been any doubt about which side he was on, it was gone now. He didn't ask anything. He just accused—and clearly wanted to kill Niara right there. What held him back was his attempt to save his ally first.

"I don't believe you'll dare kill him. The moment you do, I'll kill you," he said, flatly.

The second those words left his mouth, the whole world seemed to fall silent. If Niara dared to kill him, the man would launch a full-blown assault.

"Let him go, and maybe you'll live," he shouted. His voice carried absolute confidence—and an aura of unquestionable authority.

"Who the hell do you think you are to give me orders?" Niara spat. "My partner said I could kill all of them. So fuck you."

Darian gave a cold smile. Agral's eyes flew open wide. And in those eyes—there was only one thing: unwillingness.

*CRACK!*

That was the end.