Freya Familia's strength was comprehensive. Not only were its mbers highly disciplined and battle-hardened, but even their gear was top-tier.
Charles could confirm that—he hadn't managed to crush the skulls of the Flagold Brothers with his grip alone.
Why? Their helts were forged from hardened adamantite—premium quality gear. Seeing the deford helt in Charles' hand, Allen's face twisted in shock.
Allen had long known this world housed monsters beyond human comprehension—he'd accepted that the day he joined Freya Familia. But seeing soone warp an adamantite helt by hand still sent a chill down his spine.
Still, shock was one thing—he couldn't just watch his comrades get taken out, even if he usually felt like smashing their heads in himself.
He charged forward, sweeping his spear toward Charles.
Charles gently dropped the unconscious Flagold Brother, leaning back to dodge the incoming sweep.
Missing his strike, the feral cat-man twisted midair into a side-kick. It landed squarely on Charles' elbow—and the result was Allen flying backward like a ragdoll.
Just as Charles prepared to pursue, a coordinated flurry of spear, hamr, greatsword, and battle-axe attacks ca flying toward him.
The Flagold Brothers attacked in perfect sync, nearly locking off all of Charles' escape angles.
But the next mont, fire erupted outward, blasting all four of them away.
Still, sothing nagged at Charles. Three of those guys had taken direct heavy hits earlier—two still had his fingerprints indented on their helts. How were they up and fighting again so soon?
Then he noticed them—faint golden runes glowing around the battlefield.
Charles shook his head. "Should've known. First rule of group battles: kill the healer first."
Far off—over a hundred ters away—a beautiful woman holding a staff gasped in horror. The golden runes were emanating from her, expanding like ripples. She hadn't expected Charles to locate her so quickly. The feeling of being targeted by a predator sent chills down her spine.
The Flagold Brothers weren't unkillable monsters. Their miraculous recovery was thanks to the golden runes—Freya's divine blessing granted to her Familia.
She was Heina, Freya Familia's top healer. While her healing magic wasn't as versatile as the fad "Battlefield Saint" Riveria, it matched her in raw healing output.
That explained everything. Freya Familia wasn't just strong in battle—they had elite support too.
Hedin also noticed Charles' movent. "Stop him! Now!" he shouted.
It was no joke. With Charles showing this level of power, if they lost their healer now, the fight would be truly over.
Charles halted, narrowly dodging a massive sword slash that carved a deep trench into the ground. Hegni's sword, the cursed "Abyss of Tornt," had sliced straight for Charles' neck.
And Charles did sothing that made Hegni's jaw drop.
He bit the sword.
CRACK. CRUNCH.
Even the magic flowing through the blade seed to falter as Hegni's cool deanor cracked.
"You've got to be kidding …" he whispered, stunned.
The blade deford under Charles' bite. With a tilt of his head, Charles snapped off the tip of the Abyss of Tornt.
He spat the chunk aside with a "ptoo," then slamd a punch into Hegni's gut, sending him flying. The ground shattered beneath Charles' feet as he charged forward again—gone in a blink.
Allen and the Flagold Brothers lunged to intercept—too slow. They could only catch a blur of Charles' afterimage barreling toward Heina.
Charles had zero hesitation. No chivalry here. He closed the distance in seconds.
To her credit, Heina didn't collapse in fear. Even as a healer, she had the courage to fight back against Charles.
She swung her staff at him—Charles snatched it from her hands like candy from a child.
A split second later, he kicked her so hard she embedded into a tree, coughing blood. The golden runes blinked out instantly.
Without even glancing back, Charles raised the stolen staff and hurled it like a spear.
Allen was about to swat it aside—but the howling wind pressure changed his mind. He dodged instead.
BOOM.
The staff detonated on impact like a magic artillery shell. The trees along its path were annihilated, and the point of impact was gouged out like a crater.
Allen grit his teeth at the explosion—but he was already accelerating.
The wheels of the war chariot had begun to turn. Only at full speed could he hope to challenge Charles.
Charles knew that too. He was about to intercept when another volley of thunderballs rained down.
Hedin.
The vice-captain of Freya Familia—a top-tier adventurer whose magical reserves rivaled Riveria of the Nine Hell Mages. Though his spells lacked her breadth or her apocalyptic area-of-effect, Hedin's magic was far more agile.
And more importantly, Hedin was one of Orario's sharpest tacticians. His battle strategy could go toe-to-toe with even Finn the Thumb-Licker.
So even without a healer, Hedin could still remain calm and decisive.
"Peacock Blaze!"
Charles unleashed one of his own area spells—a technique inspired by a certain taijutsu ninja. Dozens of fireballs burst out to et Hedin's thunderballs midair.
Flas and lightning surged across the battlefield in a chaotic storm.
Allen, now transford into a blazing war chariot, burst through the storm directly toward Charles.
But before Allen could strike, a fire-wreathed fist filled his vision.
"Fire Dragon's Crushing Fist!"
Charles' punch smashed into Allen's face, distorting his features. The violent impact of Allen's charge transferred directly into Charles' arm, forcing his foot to slide back.
But Charles twisted his torso, driving Allen's head straight into the ground with his flaming fist.
Shaking out the soreness from his arm, Charles looked around at the others.
Hedin was still standing, though clearly drained.
The Flagold Brothers had recovered sowhat but were far from peak condition.
Hegni? His sword was broken. And worse—his morale had shattered too. He looked like he just wanted to go ho and hide under a blanket.
At this point, Hedin's tactics were useless. Charles was flat-out overpowering the elite core of Freya Familia through sheer brute force.
Hedin's expression darkened. As a competent commander, he knew the smart choice now was to retreat. But this mission wasn't a standard operation—it was divine command. Even if everyone died here, retreat was not an option.
Still, sothing changed—he noticed Charles wasn't pressing the attack anymore.
Instead, he was looking off into the distance.
Then Hedin heard it too—a heavy footstep.
A massive branch cracked under pressure as a burly boar-man approached, black greatsword strapped to his back.
The strongest adventurer in Orario. The only known Level 7.
Ottar the "Mighty" had arrived.
Unlike before, Ottar was fully geared this ti. For this fight, he had brought the "Dread Obsidian Sword"—crafted by every smith in the Gubneul Familia. Just the crafting fee had exceeded four hundred million valis.
Clearly, Ottar intended to fight at full power.
And Charles? He wanted to know too—just how strong had he beco?
It was ti…
To settle this for real.
(End of Chapter)
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