Chapter 650: Nightmare on the Headland

“What?”

The Nightmare’s thought, charged with intense emotion, slammed directly and with perfect clarity into his mind. Roland froze for a moment, even subconsciously reaching up to his ear as if to check that he wasn’t just hearing things.

It was currently the year 487 of the Crystal Calendar. There was no way Holland could be deceiving him about the date.

And although he already knew he would become acquainted with this Nightmare before the year 490 of the Crystal Calendar,

in his theories, that meeting was supposed to have happened in the more distant “past,” perhaps through some unknown adventure or opportunity, such as…

this very encounter.

However, the Nightmare’s reaction completely upended that theory.

Its tone, so familiar it was almost a complaint; the name “Roland,” spoken without a hint of hesitation…

Roland was certain that at this point in time, he had never revealed his real name to this Nightmare.

The only possibility…

This Nightmare very likely also came from the “future” timeline!

‘But… I don’t remember ever getting involved with a legendary creature like a Nightmare…’

A thousand thoughts flooded his mind, but the battlefield was changing in an instant, leaving him no time to sort through them.

Under the continuous effect of the “Secondary Space Anchor,” the Nightmare had lost its most crucial advantage—mobility—and its movements were severely restricted.

The tall, thin Mage was clearly experienced. With a few taps of his Magic Staff, he added another layer of pale blue Force Field Restraint, further limiting the Nightmare’s struggles.

Seeing this, the besiegers’ morale soared, and their attacks rained down like a torrential storm.

Swords and blades struck its body, and spells bombarded it. The mysterious, shadowy luster around the Nightmare’s form dimmed at a visible rate.

For the first time, its phantom-fire eyes revealed clear exhaustion and pain, all traces of its previous ease and control gone.

Time was short. Roland’s eyes sharpened as he instantly suppressed all his confusion and shock, channeling it into decisive action. He turned quickly to Holland and Ellis beside him, his words fast and clear.

“Holland, Ellis, don’t engage directly. Stay hidden, use the terrain and your skills to disrupt the battle as much as possible. Create Chaos, distract them—especially that Caster and the other ranged attackers. Understand?”

His orders given, Roland hesitated no longer.

He took a deep breath. The Power within him surged, and he stomped hard on the solid reef behind him.

“BANG!”

With a muffled thud, rock fragments flew.

Where he had stood, the surface of the hard, black reef was now spiderwebbed with cracks.

And his figure, like an arrow loosed from a bowstring or a shell fired from a cannon, shot toward the chaotic core of the battlefield a hundred meters away, tearing through the air with an unparalleled, ferocious momentum.

“Hey!”

Only then did Holland manage to let out a short gasp, a mixture of worry and helplessness.

He watched Roland’s back, which was moving so fast it was just a Residual Shadow, and knew it was too late to say anything else.

So he spat fiercely on the ground and turned to Ellis, his face once again taking on that ferocious, “time to work” expression, but with an added glint of cunning in his eyes.

“Well, the boss is charging in. We can’t just stand around.”

Holland quickly scanned the battlefield layout, his voice low.

“Ellis, you’ve got sharp eyes and a quick mind. Take a look at that bunch of gray-cloaked bastards, and their ringleader with the Magic Staff. What kind of ‘surprise’ would they hate the most?”

“I’m gonna go loosen up that mob hacking away at the Nightmare, stir things up a bit for them!”

Ellis had already put away his notebook. His gray-blue eyes calmly analyzed the battlefield as his fingers unconsciously fiddled with the Spell Material Bag at his waist.

“That Mage is the key.”

“The ‘Space Anchor’ spell requires continuous Concentration to maintain. His defenses are relatively weak right now. I can try using ‘Magic Missile’ to disrupt his Casting Concentration, or use ‘Oily Technique’ to create a slippery area and block his teammates’ support routes.”

“Holland, while you’re creating Chaos, it would be best if you could draw some of the enemies toward you. Create a window for Mr. Rudolph to get close to the Nightmare.”

“Deal! Just watch me!”

Holland grinned, a savage glint in his eyes.

His huge body, as agile as a brown bear, slipped silently into a deeper patch of reef Shadow nearby. He began to circle around, looking for the best spot to “say hello.”

……

……

Cyrus, vice-captain and chief spell advisor of the Shadow of Ashes Mercenary Corps.

A cold smile of absolute control crept onto his pale, gaunt face.

The tip of the Magic Staff in his hand, which was inlaid with a fragment of the “Void Core,” pulsed with a steady Arcane Magic glow, like a breathing light. It precisely maintained the “Secondary Space Anchor” and the subsequently added “Shadow Binding” Force Field that enveloped the battlefield.

In the center of his vision, the powerful and proud Nightmare was already in a desperate situation.

Its proud Shadow-jumping ability was completely locked down. Under multiple restraints, its phantom-fire body struggled less and less, like an insect trapped in amber.

His well-trained Shadow of Ashes members were pressing forward in coordination with that greedy rabble, the gleam of blades and the light of Magic constantly adding new wounds to its dark hide.

The ghostly white Flame burning in the Nightmare’s eyes flickered violently. It no longer conveyed cold majesty, but an increasingly clear pain and helpless rage.

‘Almost there…’

Cyrus judged calmly.

‘Three more rounds of concentrated attacks, and its defenses will completely collapse. At that point, whether it’s forcing it into a slavery contract or Stripping its ‘Shadow Core’ and ‘Star Shards’ for alchemy, it will all be within my grasp. This mission will be more than just a success.’