Crisis: Thunderbolt!
Just before the explosive force could reach him, a scorching heat washed over first. In that instant, Tiny's thoughts accelerated at breakneck speed. His enhanced soul power amplified his cognition, making time crawl to an agonizing crawl. Heightened senses even let him gauge the explosion's scale from the tremors rumbling up through his feet.
Stronger than back then.
Far more powerful than the blast that had threatened his life during the Karina Castle rebellion. Instinctive will seized the mana that had begun flowing along the Ironclad pattern and wrenched it off course.
Ironclad won't cut it!
Sunset-hued mana split into red and yellow—one infused with infinite heaviness, the other with infinite lightness—before blending once more. Violent repulsion erupted, unleashing tremendous energy.
Destruction attribute.
An uncontrollable force bent on pulverizing everything, one he'd deliberately avoided. But there was no time for restraint now.
Doing it like last time would be idiotic.
Nullifying the thunderbolt head-on had been sheer folly in hindsight. He'd survived only by sheer luck; if the destruction attribute's power had been even a fraction weaker, it would've triggered an even bigger detonation.
So this time...
Focus.
Shape it into a wall that erases everything. Fortunately, the energy he'd thought impossible to control now bent slightly to his will.
Woooom.
Shaaa!
A transparent barrier materialized beneath Wolrang's paws, right on the earth's crust. Invisible to others, it was crystal clear in Tiny's eyes—the crude, translucent plane he'd barely managed to contain the destruction force within.
And then.
Kwaaaaaang!
With a deafening roar, the ground erupted and flames surged skyward. Yet the surface trapped behind that veil of destruction remained intact for a few precious seconds, every ounce of explosive force and fire nullified by the transparent wall.
And those few seconds were all he needed.
Woooom.
He summoned depleted mana anew, cloaking his body in sunset mana armor to weather the blast's aftermath.
Kwakwakwakwa!
Scorching flames devoured hundreds of meters around that corner of the Great Forest, illuminating the dark night in hellish brilliance.
“Gaaahhh!”
“F-Fire!”
“Uwaaah! S-Save...!”
Whether by luck or curse, the demons who hadn't been vaporized screamed as they were engulfed in flames.
Detonating without a care for their own minions, huh.
Trash through and through. A furious silver gale tore through the burning woods.
“That bastard!”
“Keng!”
The explosion seemed to have disrupted whatever had been jamming his senses. Tiny's mana detection and Wolrang's Soul Site had long since locked onto the six-circle black mages' positions perfectly.
One of them—an old black mage facing the oncoming silver wolf and rider—turned pale as death.
“H-How...!?”
He seemed genuinely shocked; the demonic qi trembling at his fingertips pointing at Tiny couldn't even form a proper pattern.
And yet, with the reaper right in front of him, he spouted nonsense.
“Die.”
Kwaaaaaang!
The six-circle black mage shattered without enduring a single blow, scattering to the winds.
At least that one.
“N-No. 8!? Block it!!”
“Stop him!”
The remaining two were marginally better. They barked desperate orders at their surviving minions while unleashing black magic.
- Haaahhh.
- Dieee.
- Give it baaack.
Black mist shrouded his vision as chilling wails from ghosts swarmed to possess his body. Black vines burst from the earth, binding Wolrang's legs.
Better than the one I just killed, but...
Paaang!
Sunset mana flared at full power, dispersing the black mist.
“Krung!”
Wolrang shredded the vines binding its paws, and Tiny surged toward the next target, tracing the flow of demonic qi. Straight at the one who'd panicked enough to waste breath on a curse in ghost form—useless against him.
“D-Damn it!”
The figure under the robe's hood—bushy brown beard the only thing visible—frantically formed hand seals. One method of manifesting magic by shaping patterns with fingers.
But his trembling hands mangled the seal, failing to invoke proper magic.
“Tch!”
Kwaaaaaang!
The botched explosion merely stalled the wolf rider briefly.
And in the end.
“N-No!”
“Yes!”
Sunset mana blazed from the warhammer plummeting like a meteor onto the retreating black mage's head.
Kwaaaaaang!
One left...
Huuu.
Deep breaths refilled his mana, but far slower than before. The initial clashes had drained him at full throttle, and manifesting—let alone controlling—the destruction attribute had consumed vast mana and mental energy. It might've looked easy, but every swing against those six-circle mages had poured everything into single, devastating blows.
Expected result.
No hesitation marked Tiny's charge toward the last foe, farthest away.
Pababak.
“Block him! Block him, I said!!”
The final target—a black mage with a long white beard peeking from his hood—bellowed. But no demons rushed to obey. Few survived their own catastrophe, and demons weren't the loyal sort anyway. Bound only by soul contracts.
Those who met their master's eyes had no choice but to hurl themselves at the enemy.
Kwaaaaaang!
Thud.
The enemy's brutish hammer swings pulverized them without mercy.
“Y-You useless trash!”
Time for a decision. The white-bearded black mage—Number Six from Malum—raised his staff toward the approaching silver reaper, then snapped it without hesitation.
Crack.
A rare artifact for wielding demonic qi. Os Virga boosted black magic efficiency and concealed its traces—a supreme treasure. But not worth his life.
In exchange for destroying it, he unleashed a single spell beyond his limits.
His cognition expanded wildly, his soul reaching a demonic beast he'd never dreamed of summoning—a summoner of netherworld flora and fauna.
Groooo.
“Come forth, lion of ruin!”
The massive wolf charging into view. Demonic qi mimicking that overwhelming reaper form tore open a dimensional rift, dragging forth the nearest match from the netherworld.
- Kyaaaaah!
A roar erupted from the massive oval black portal. Number Six's face lit with ecstasy; he'd planned multiple six-stage beasts, but...
A Ruler-class demon beast!?
Common knowledge held Ruler-class—comparable to superhumans at seven-stage—impossible without a full descent ritual. Yet here it was, and Number Six had no headspace to question why.
Luck's on my side.
Thud.
The beast's massive forepaw, cloaked in black muscle, rent the portal and planted itself in the world.
Groooo.
Just one paw emerging tainted that corner of the Great Forest black.
“Heh heh.”
Number Six's smile deepened at the ferocious presence.
Not just any Ruler-class. A legion commander's tier!
The Demon King's seven sin legions. Gluttony's Beast King commanded seven transcendent eight-stage beasts, each overseeing seven Ruler-class underlings—legends said each was near the pinnacle of their rank.
And this summon felt that caliber.
We're saved!
As if all his lifetime luck converged at once. With his life secured...
I'll claim full credit for slaying him.
The fruits of smashing Os Virga already tantalized.
But then.
“You mad bastard...!!”
The enemy, now at the black portal's mouth, bellowed at him. Enemy curses were the finest praise, no?
It's over now.
Number Six's smile widened. The enemy's face twisted demonically as red and yellow flames flickered ominously from his brutish hammer.
And.
- Krurrrr.
Before the black-horned beast could fully emerge...
“Where do you think you're crawling out?! Get lost!!!”
Crack crack.
His noticeably cracked hammer spewed not sunset light but an eerie gray glow, smashing the beast's horn.
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
Kwakwakwakwakwa.
The shockwave from that earth-shaking boom whipped up gale-force winds.
- Kyaaaaah!
The enraged beast's roar followed as the black portal shrank rapidly.
Pop.
It vanished without a trace in a pathetic puff.
Number Six's smile evaporated just as utterly.
“You crazy son of a...!”
Blood trickled from the pale-faced enemy's lips as he hoisted his crumbling warhammer. He looked defeated, yet his aura raged with world-devouring savagery.
“...You dare open a netherworld gate!?”
Number Six froze, too stunned to resist, as the sunset warhammer descended.
Kwaaaaaang!
* * *
“...We failed.”
“What!?”
Bam.
The black round table in the dark chamber shuddered violently, but no one present paid it mind.
“D-Does that even make sense!? The elders! The thunderbolts!!?”
“We confirmed over a thousand remaining thunderbolts detonating at once. An entire section of the Great Forest vanished, and the massive wildfire has the elves mobilizing.”
“And!?”
“The elders haven't returned. We spotted the target charging toward Bator from afar.”
“...Charging?! Unharmed? What the hell did those guys do!”
“A-At least reports say his weapon's broken...”
“That's your report!? You saying he's a superhuman or something!?”
“Possibly...”
Grind.
“You insane bastard!”
Splat.
The reporter's head exploded, plunging the table into silence once more. Moments later.
“Even if he heads to Bator, even if the Warlord moves, it's too late. Nergui won't heed the Warlord, and the orcs will fall.”
“Who doesn't know that!? That's not the issue! We need to think ahead—about our backs!! The orcs done just ends it!? Elves? Dwarves? The alliance!? Beastkin!?”
A cautious voice from the corner drew bellows from the head shadow.
“Still...”
“That bastard! That Morse bastard's the problem! Who knows what else he'll interfere with!”
“We have no more strength. No way to strike him even if we wanted. Unless we all go... or that one steps in again...”
“Shut up! Shut your mouth!! How badly did you screw this up for this outcome! How incompetent can you be!”
Bam.
Killing intent poured from the raging shadow pounding the table.
- Then do it yourself.
The thought flashed through the other shadows' minds, but none dared voice it. Besides, deploying three thunderbolts plus Elders 3, 6, and 8 felt excessive already.
To them, that Morse was a spy borrowing a strongman's power to thwart them—not a one-man army.
And their basis?
- Our leader said he's Blader-grade at best.
That carried the most blame for the failure, but none dared question it.
Silence gripped the table. It shattered when one corner shadow mustered courage.
“If anything, doesn't this confirm he's the hero? Even that one's words... ahem. Plus, his absurd growth so far proves it.”
That plunged the table into quiet again.
“...Perfect timing—that one's grand ritual ends soon. I'll report in person.”
A groan-like rasp escaped the head shadow.