Chapter 93 – Surrounded
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[Blackroot Forest – Night]
Malik activated his enhanced senses, and a wave of mana surged through his entire being. His perception stretched outward like a spiderweb of awareness, sweeping across the mist-laden forest. In that instant, everything clicked—the moment of stillness before the chaos. His eyes snapped open, and his face turned grim.
They weren't alone.
The three Tier-2 Swordsmen standing in front of him were just the distraction.
There were others.
Killers.
Assassins cloaked in stealth, crawling along the shadowy undergrowth, waiting to strike the moment he faltered. More players, opportunists with greedy eyes, crouched behind trees and rocks—players who smelled blood and came to collect a bounty.
A trap.
He gritted his teeth and yanked out both weapons—Bloodcleaver in his right, and Corrosive Dagger in his left. His grip was tight, knuckles pale, like a beast cornered but still dangerous.
Running wasn't an option. Not now. Not here.
The moment he turned his back, he'd be shredded like paper in a typhoon.
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"What? Getting tired of running already, Man like Malik?" one of the Swordsmen asked, tone mocking, voice carrying through the silence like a snake's hiss.
The three of them began circling him, blades drawn, forming a deadly triangle.
"Or did you really think you could take us on?" said another, eyes narrow, expression calm and cruel.
"A Tier-1 player standing tall in front of Tier-2 elites… tch, the rumors weren't exaggerated after all." The third Swordsman smirked, his body suddenly glowing. Crimson mana burst from him like an aura of flame, and his longsword shone with radiant fire. The forest around him dimmed in contrast to the brightness of his blade.
"Man like Malik… tonight, I'll show you the prowess of a Hidden Class!" he roared as he charged forward, the night air burning in his wake.
Malik activated Eyes of Insight instantly, locking onto him.
[Hotin Hell – the Flame Swordsman]
Tier – 2
Level – 68
HP – 400,000
"A Hidden Class? This just got messy."
Malik narrowed his eyes.
'He's Tier-2, so I can't see his damage stats… but from his HP alone, his defense's lower than mine. Still, this'll be tricky. One misstep and I'm done. I have to play this smart. No brute moves.'
Hotin Hell suddenly burst into the air—[Triple Shot], a mobility skill that let the user soar thrice their normal leap height. In an instant, he was above Malik, sword blazing like a mini sun.
And then it came—
Flame Descend!
A violent column of red fire erupted from his sword. Flames blazed down like a wrathful meteor, scorching the air as they rushed toward Malik.
"DIE!" the Swordsman bellowed.
The torrent struck.
An inferno exploded on impact, the entire forest lighting up like a festival of embers. But when the flames faded, Malik stood tall in the middle of the scorched earth, arms crossed before him, daggers gleaming in the aftermath.
-4,000
The number floated above his head—barely a scratch.
With 650,000 HP, he could take a hundred of those.
He cocked his head sideways and smirked.
"So… this is the hidden prowess of the Flame Swordsman?" he said coldly.
Hotin Hell's face twisted in fury as he descended, trying to close the distance before Triple Shot's momentum wore off.
Flame Slash!
A blazing arc of fire streaked toward Malik's throat.
But Malik had already moved.
CLANG! — Bloodcleaver blocked the blow in his right hand.
In the same motion, Corrosive Dagger sliced across the Swordsman's ribs.
[System Alert: You have inflicted Corrosion on Player Hotin Hell. Target suffers -2% HP every second for 20 seconds. Movement suppressed for 3 seconds.]
"Ghh—!" Hotin Hell choked, stumbling mid-air.
-80,000!
-70,000!
Critical damage tore chunks out of his health bar as Malik unleashed a Rending Claw slash with both daggers in a cross pattern, leaving a glowing X on his chest.
"That's 40% of my HP—what the hell?! I haven't even lasted five seconds in front of him…!" Hotin Hell's eyes widened.
He tried to move—but the suppression held him down.
And Malik was already on him.
Two slashes. One straight to the chest, another to the stomach.
-90,000!
-70,000!
The Flame Swordsman flew backward and crashed into the dirt, his HP already below 40%.
"Man like Malik! Your head is mine!" the second Swordsman screamed as he bolted forward, fire flaring on his sword.
But Malik acted before he could get close.
He flung Bloodcleaver straight at him.
It whistled through the air.
Flame Slash!
The second Swordsman slashed horizontally to deflect it, but the Bloodcleaver cut through his sword like hot knife through butter. The crimson dagger didn't stop—it pierced clean through his chest, burying itself with a sickening squelch.
The Swordsman stopped mid-motion.
He looked at his broken blade.
Then at his hands—shaking.
His HP was falling.
Fast.
5%... 4%... 3%...
He looked down and saw it—a hole in his chest.
"That dagger… E-epic…" he tried to say, but the words never finished.
He burst into particles, two items dropping to the ground in his place.
Malik held out his hand, and Bloodcleaver returned with a metallic shing.
"You… you actually one-shotted a Tier-2 with a Hidden Class… while still Tier-1." The last Swordsman gulped.
Malik didn't stop walking. He strolled forward, calm like a butcher visiting a meat shop.
"I killed a Tier-1 when I was still Tier-0… with my fists alone. What do you think Tier-2 means to me now—when I'm holding two weapons like these?" he said, voice low, menacing.
"Tch… so it's the weapons." The last Swordsman's eyes flashed. He popped a red pill into his mouth.
[System Alert: Player Hot In The Middle has consumed Strength Pill. All stats increased by 30%. Duration – 45 seconds.]
"Thirty percent, huh?" Malik cracked his neck. "Still not enough."
Hot In The Middle launched at him, blade roaring.
Flame Burst!
Three arcs of flame shot from his sword like blades, rushing downward toward Malik's torso.
Malik crossed his daggers and blocked, taking the brunt head-on. His HP ticked down by 5%, but he didn't flinch.
When Hot In The Middle landed, Malik was already moving—
Infernal Slash!
He slashed with both daggers in an arc, red-black flame bursting from his weapons. One dagger slashed the neck, the other—deep in the collarbone.
[Stun Effect: 5 seconds applied to Player Hot In The Middle]
The Swordsman froze in place—eyes wide.
Malik didn't stop.
Slash.
Stab.
Twist.
Slash again.
Five seconds. That's all it took.
His HP bar dropped from 80% to 0%. Just like that.
"Only… if I could raise… my sword…" Hot In The Middle's voice cracked. Blood leaked from his lips as Malik withdrew his daggers cleanly.