Crushing the B-Rank
Hammersson glared at Zeon.
“Sand? You just used sand as a weapon?”
“As you can see!”
Zeon shrugged.
Hammersson's eyes grew even fiercer.
He gripped his scimitar tightly and said, “You're in luck today!”
“All your men are dead, and you call that luck? Are you insane?”
“Hmph! Trash like them? I can find as many as I want in Elharon. But a sand mage and a guide? Not so much.”
In this desertified Earth, those two abilities had the highest utility.
Guides—navigators—had appeared a few times so far, but Zeon was the first and only one to awaken as a Sand Mage.
Even in Elharon, where heteromorphs gathered, there was no Awakener who could wield sand.
If Zeon could control it at will, it would be a massive boon to Elharon.
“You're coming with me to Elharon.”
“Tempting offer, but I'll pass. Got a busy schedule.”
“This isn't an offer. It's an order.”
“Then I'll pass even harder. I don't take orders from strangers—goes against my nature.”
“You'll obey whether you like it or not. Elharon has all sorts of wondrous toys.”
One of them interfered directly with the mind.
In Kurayan, items or skills that tampered with a living being's psyche were taboo.
Using such magic or skills artificially would get you branded a heretic by the church and hunted down on sight.
But those taboos had vanished upon their migration to Earth.
It was a world unlike what they'd expected.
The cause was that reckless terraforming, of course.
In any case, they had to adapt to this desert world to survive.
The Kurayans who crossed over discarded all needless restrictions and taboos for survival. That was how mind-interference items came to be.
With one of those, he could easily subjugate this insolent sand mage. Of course, that required capturing him alive and dragging him back to Elharon.
But Hammersson was confident.
He was a B-rank Awakener.
A martial type, at that.
The rank badge etched on his wrist proved it.
He was leagues beyond the subordinates Zeon had effortlessly crushed.
Though B-rank on paper, his Elharon gear let him punch at A-rank levels.
That was why he'd been dispatched here.
Shiiik!
He charged at terrifying speed.
No time for Zeon to react.
But Zeon was ready.
Shoooo!
A dozen Sand Blasters hurtled toward Hammersson.
Hammersson didn't dodge.
Light flared from his chest, enveloping his body.
The hemispherical barrier deflected every Sand Blaster.
Zeon's eyes gleamed.
'Item? Or innate ability?'
Shwaa!
Hammersson closed in instantly, thrusting his scimitar.
He avoided vital spots like the heart or brain—confident he could revive Zeon as long as those stayed intact.
His strikes were ferocious.
Zeon twisted away, firing a Sand Missile.
“Useless.”
The hemispherical light enveloped Hammersson again.
Zeon didn't miss it.
'Tattoo.'
A glimpse between armor plates.
The light originated from the tattoo.
It amplified Hammersson's aura to form the shield.
Zeon fired more Sand Missiles, but they all bounced off the aura.
In the meantime, Hammersson's blade nicked him several times.
The wounds weren't deep—thankfully—but enough to chill Zeon to the bone.
Chiiiik!
Red light erupted from Hammersson's sword.
A martial Awakener specialty.
Only sword specialists could wield Sword Aura.
“You can still control sand without an arm, right?”
Hammersson aimed to sever one arm and end it.
To break his spirit.
Shishik!
His blade split into three in an instant, slashing at Zeon.
Zeon unleashed Sand Step, dodging desperately. But no matter how he dashed, he couldn't shake Hammersson.
Zeon bit his lip.
A glimpse of the rank badge on his foe's wrist.
Red martial B-rank.
Zeon was D-rank.
Matchup aside, the power gap was massive.
And this guy was a sword class optimized for PvP.
The field was tilted heavily against him from the start.
Utterly unfair.
But Zeon harbored no complaints.
He knew fights in this era were like that. And that higher rank didn't guarantee victory.
A rank badge was just an indicator—not absolute.
'Use everything at my disposal.'
As he retreated via Sand Step, Hammersson pursued.
Zeon unleashed Sand Mixer where Hammersson stepped.
Gaaang!
Spinning sand snared his ankle.
“Hmph! That trick won't work on me.”
He'd watched his men fall to it—prepared.
He shook off the sand and leaped into the air.
Zeon fired Sand Missiles at the airborne foe.
“Useless.”
Hammersson sneered.
Trusting his tattoo-amplified aura shield.
It had nullified Zeon's attacks multiple times already. That boldness let him charge head-on.
“One arm won't do. I'll take a leg too.”
Shiaaak!
He lunged, targeting arm and leg.
Zeon hastily raised a sand wall to shield himself. But Sword Aura shattered it.
Zeon lay exposed.
“My victory.”
The moment Hammersson declared triumph—
Swoosh!
Two shadowy figures rose silently behind him.
Sand soldiers.
Sand Soldiers.
“What the—?”
Hammersson startled at the ambush.
He spun, striking a Sand Soldier.
Kwaang!
It exploded in a blast.
Hammersson patted his chest, eyeing Zeon.
“Clever ace up your sleeve. But that's the end of it.”
Having neutralized every skill, his confidence was absolute.
As he lunged again—
Gaaang!
Sand began whirling around him.
Zeon had unleashed Sand Mixer again.
“Useless.”
The instant Hammersson leaped—
Grab!
The shattered Sand Soldier reformed, hugging him tight.
“What?”
Shock crossed Hammersson's face for the first time.
The Sand Soldiers dragged him into the furiously spinning Sand Mixer.
His knees already sank into the sand.
“Damn it!”
He thrashed to escape the soldiers and sand. But the more he struggled, the deeper he sank—like quicksand.
He hurriedly activated his aura shield over his body.
Kwagagagak!
High-speed sand grains clashed against the shield, screeching eerily.
“You bastard!”
His desperate shout echoed.
Shoulders now submerged.
Struggling only pulled him deeper.
The shield held—for now—but it couldn't last forever.
Mana depletion would drop it.
Then the sand would shred him.
But Hammersson trusted himself.
A B-rank's mana outlasted Zeon's, easily.
Especially against a skill this mana-hungry.
And indeed—
Zeon's face was ashen from chaining skills; his mana nearly gone.
But he had a cheat item.
Elura's Tear—full mana restore, once per day.
Hwak!
Brilliant light flashed; mana fully recovered.
Zeon poured it into the Sand Mixer.
The faltering vortex roared back to life.
Kwagagak!
“Shit!”
Hammersson vanished completely into the sand.
Vision went black.
Only the roar of spinning sand.
Crack!
The shield fracturing in the darkness.
His mana hit empty.
The shield flickered wildly.
“N-no!”
His face paled.
Mana gone; shield vanished.
Unblocked, the sand ground into him.
“Kaaaaak!”
Hammersson's agonized scream echoed through the sand.
Then, Hammersson ceased to exist.
Moments later, confirming the blood-soaked sand, Zeon collapsed to the ground.
No life signs from Hammersson anywhere.
“Haa! Haa!”
Zeon gasped for breath.
His face deathly pale.
Even Elura's Tear couldn't prevent total depletion.
One slip in the Sand Missile-Sand Soldier-Sand Mixer chain, and he'd be dead.
Hammersson had been that strong.
The fight drove it home.
What he lacked.
Anti-personnel skills.
Sand Blaster and Sand Missile weren't enough.
Sand Mixer excelled at AoE, not singles.
He needed stronger PvP skills.
Shelving that thought, Zeon looked to Dayton.
“Heh heh! Elf bitch, where's Elharon?”
He dangled a mangled lump of meat.
The female elf who'd led the rangers.
Around her lay gruesomely pulped remains—elf rangers and dwarf warriors.
While Zeon battled Hammersson, Dayton had slaughtered them all.
He tossed the female elf aside like trash. She'd stopped breathing.
His gaze shifted to a squat dwarf sprawled on the ground.
Gofrey, leader of the dwarf warriors.
His limbs were brutally crushed.
“Kuh!”
Gofrey stared at Dayton in terror.
A monster immune to mana particle blasts, elf rangers, dwarf warriors.
Even Elharon had no such beast.
Dayton squatted before Gofrey.
“Shorty. Speak.”
“Kuh!”
“Where's Elharon?”
“That's...”
“Speak, and I'll spare your worthless life.”
“R-really?”
“Heh heh! What use is snuffing out trash like you?”
“Then...”
Conflict flickered in Gofrey's eyes.
The moment he opened his mouth about Elharon—
Bang!
His head exploded.
Blood and brains sprayed everywhere.
Dayton's face splattered too.
He casually wiped it off, muttering.
“Cursed to explode if they reveal Elharon's location, huh. Filthy heteromorph bastards!”