The scouts arrived in perfect synchronization, materializing from three different directions with the coordinated precision of a military strike team.
Zeph’s soul-sense tracked them splitting up—east, west, and directly above—forming a triangular kill zone with him at the center. Professional. Experienced. Deadly.
’Not F-rank,’ he realized with cold clarity as their souls blazed into full resolution. ’B-rank. All of them!’
The difference was imdiately apparent. Where F-rank awakened radiated diffuse power, these three burned with concentrated intent. Their souls were refined, structured, layered with techniques and skills that spoke of years of cultivation and combat.
The first scout dropped from above like a falling teor, and Zeph barely managed to throw himself aside as the ground where he’d been standing exploded into a crater thirty feet across.
BAM!
A woman landed in the impact zone, straightening from her crouch with movents that flowed like water.
She was tall, lean, covered in form-fitting armor that pulsed with active enchantnts. Her eyes glowed ice-blue, and frost spread across the concrete beneath her feet.
The second scout erged from the rubble to Zeph’s left—a massive man built like a titan, easily seven feet of solid muscle wrapped in stone-like skin that looked more like natural armor than flesh. His very presence made the air feel heavier.
Flicker!
The third materialized from thin air behind him, stepping out of invisibility with a knife already in motion toward Zeph’s spine. Young, barely twenty, but his soul sang with the distinctive resonance of soone who’d killed dozens.
Three B-rank awakened. Combined combat power that could clear A-rank dungeons solo! Techniques refined through years of practice. Runes that multiplied their base capabilities by factors of three or four.
Against a level 2 anomaly who’d awakened yesterday and could barely control his own strength?!
’Well, shit.’
Swoosh!
The assassin’s blade struck first, aid at the gap between Zeph’s spine and skull with surgical precision. The attack carried enough killing intent to make his soul-sense scream warnings.
Zeph activated Force.
Rumble!
Power exploded through his system like liquid lightning, doubling his already absurd 999 stats. His enhanced perception slowed the world to a crawl, turning the incoming blade into sothing he could track, analyze, and respond to.
He twisted, felt the knife scrape across his neck hard enough to draw blood but not deep enough to sever anything vital. His hand snapped up in a counter-grab that should have caught the assassin’s wrist.
Crack!
Instead, his fingers pulverized bone like it was made of chalk.
The assassin scread, tried to activate so kind of escape skill, but Zeph’s Force-enhanced speed was too much. His other hand drove forward in a palm strike aid at the chest—
The Titan Man intercepted, moving with speed that shouldn’t have been possible for soone his size. Stone-hard skin t Zeph’s palm with a sound like a car crash.
BAM! RUMBLE!
The shockwave leveled three nearby buildings!
Zeph went flying backward, his uncontrolled strength turning defense into mutual devastation. The Titan Man staggered but held his ground, cracks appearing in his stone skin that imdiately began regenerating.
’He tanked that?’ Zeph’s mind reeled. ’With just his physique?’
The Ice Lady used his montary distraction to strike.
Temperature plumted to arctic levels in an instant. Frost erupted from the ground in jagged spears that moved like living things, targeting joints and vital points with predatory intelligence.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Zeph tried to dodge, but his Force-enhanced speed worked against him. He moved too fast, couldn’t control his trajectory, and three ice spears punched through his shoulder, thigh, and abdon before he could correct his montum.
The ice burned. Not cold—burned, with energy that bypassed his 999 Vitality and attacked directly at the soul level.
’Conceptual damage!’ he realized, gritting his teeth against agony that shouldn’t have been possible. ’The skill ignores physical defense!’
The assassin was already back on his feet despite his pulverized wrist, his other hand drawing a second blade that glead with toxic green energy. His injured arm was regenerating at visible speed—so kind of healing skill or bloodline ability.
He vanished into invisibility again, but Zeph’s soul-sense tracked him perfectly. The purple flas wreathing his body pulsed, and suddenly he could see the assassin’s intent as clearly as physical movent.
Swoosh!
The attack ca from behind again—predictable, but backed by enhanced speed that turned the blade into a streak of poisoned light.
Zeph activated Phantom Step.
Fwoom!
The technique carried him ten feet to the side in a burst of displacent that left afterimages trailing in his wake. The assassin’s blade passed through empty air, and Zeph’s counter-attack followed imdiately.
His fist, still enhanced by Force, drove toward the assassin’s head with enough power to liquify concrete.
The assassin activated sothing—a defensive skill that created a shimring barrier of condensed shadow. Zeph’s punch hit the barrier and stopped, the kinetic energy dispersing across the magical construct instead of pulverizing its target.
’They have answers for everything!’ Zeph realized with growing frustration. ’Skills to counter speed, skills to counter strength, skills to bypass defense—’
The Titan Man charged, each footstep causing localized earthquakes. His massive fists glowed with golden energy that made Zeph’s instincts scream warnings.
Rumble!
The punch ca fast despite the Titan’s size, backed by technique that multiplied its force beyond what raw strength could achieve. Zeph tried to dodge, succeeded, and the punch passed harmlessly by his head.
Then the shockwave hit.
The technique’s secondary effect caught him square in the chest—a wave of compressed force that didn’t care about dodging because it filled an area rather than following a trajectory.
Zeph’s ribs cracked. His internal organs took damage that his 999 Vitality struggled to process. Blood filled his mouth as he tumbled through another building, his uncontrolled montum turning him into a wrecking ball.
’Can’t match their technique,’ he thought desperately, forcing his broken body upright through sheer willpower. ’They’ve trained for years. I’ve had this power for thirty minutes!’
The Ice Lady had been preparing sothing while he was distracted. The temperature dropped even further, frost spreading across every surface until the entire street looked like a winter hellscape.
Her hands wove patterns in the air, and ice responded like an extension of her will.
HUM!
The world turned white.
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