Chapter 93: The Den of Iron III

Chapter 93: Chapter 93: The Den of Iron III

The assembly hall broke into deafening carnage.

Across the cracked concrete floor, the ten-foot-tall Darkspire Drake drove forward like an unstoppable siege ram. Dino’s heavy, midnight-scaled tail lashed out, smashing aside two armored supply haulers with an ear-splitting screech of tearing metal. Lowering its horned head, the Rank-S drake charged straight for the Boulderhorn Toad, its red eyes locked on the target.

The giant toad croaked a loud shockwave, raising its stone brow horns to take the hit, but the sheer weight of an S-rank predator drove it skidding backward, tearing deep trenches into the solid rock.

While the two beasts shook the floor of the underground base, Impy went to work among the syndicate’s ranks.

SWOOSH.

The Dark Imp darted across the room like a ghost. In one second, he wore the face and bloody vest of a terrified spearman ducking behind cover; in the next split-second, he snapped back into his red, horned skin, driving sharp obsidian claws clean through the throats and chests of the men flanking him.

Before anyone could scream or raise their weapons, Impy vanished in a puff of purple smoke, popping up ten paces away as another familiar goon.

"Something’s on us! Shoot him—wait, that’s Garth—!"

"DIE, YOU MONSTER!"

Friendly fire broke out in blind panic as syndicate grunts attacked their own allies. Impy slipped right between their crossfire, laughing his high-pitched, shark-toothed giggle as he cut tendons and cracked skulls with easy Captain-rank brutality.

Along the dark eastern wall, Eric moved with a cold, quiet focus.

The Invisibility Potion was still running through his veins, wiping away his visual shape, his heat signature, and his scent. With the Wavecaller drawn low, Eric glided through the shadows using Shadow Steps.

SHLICK.

The pale-blue bone blade cut through the throat of a fleeing scout before the man could reach the airlock lever. Eric didn’t stop to watch the body fall; he spun on his heel, cutting off two panicked grunts trying to drag an ammo box toward the vents.

A clean horizontal slash and an upward cut dropped both men in two quiet strokes.

High up in the smoke-filled rafters, Coal held the high ground.

Skystride!

Dropping four black Shadow Clones, Coal dove in a tight spiral. While the decoys drew fire from the few archers and wand-wielders below, the real Coal dropped like a stone, his Shadow Talons cutting through the necks of attack hounds and snapping the spines of juvenile dark hyenas. Between Eric’s silent blade, Coal’s dives, and Impy’s chaos, the syndicate’s numbers were disappearing by the second.

Still, on a noisy floor full of seasoned killers, invisibility was never complete armor.

Near the command platform, Scarface Vane stood in the middle of the chaos, his scarred jaw set in an ugly sneer. Leaning on his iron-tipped cane, his red-rimmed eyes tracked the weird signs cutting through the hall: fleeing men dropping with cut throats from nothing, displaced gravel crunching under empty air, and blood dripping onto the floor from a blade no one could see.

"Over there!" Vane yelled over the noise.

He threw his palm forward, two summoning circles, one gray, the other a pale, freezing blue flaring across the stone.

ROAR!

HSSSSS!

Bounding out of the mist came an adult Ashfang Hound, its soot-stained jaw dripping hot spit. Beside it slithered an eight-meter-long Frostscale Viper, its diamond scales coated in thick frost, breathing out an icy fog that froze the stones solid under its coils.

"Come out, you sneaky little rat!" Vane shouted, drawing a small blade from his cane and sweeping it through the air. "Face me fair and square! You think some cheap trick hides you from a hound’s nose?!"

Eric stopped five paces out, blending right into the shadow of a steel beam.

His talent flared on.

Appraisal.

│ Race: Human

│ Talent: Rank D

│ Stage: Soldier

│ Level: 7

*Soldier Stage Level 7,* Eric noted, his eyes narrowing under his hood.

Vane was definitely no amateur. In a third-tier frontier town like Riverdale, a Level 7 Soldier was a real combat veteran. He was the second-strongest guy in the whole Iron-Tooth Syndicate, right under their Captain boss.

Eric turned his gaze to the two beasts pacing at Vane’s boots.

Appraisal.

│ Race: Ashfang Hound

│ Rank: E

│ Stage: Soldier

│ Level: 7

------------

│ Race: Frostscale Viper

│ Rank: D

│ Stage: Soldier

│ Level: 6

------------

*A Level 7 hound and a Level 6 ice snake,* Eric calculated, his pulse settling down into a calm rhythm.

On paper, Vane and his beasts held the level and numbers advantage over a Level 3 Soldier. But levels on paper did not win a fight. Eric had starlight-dense mana refined through the Seven Star cycles, Major masteries in both swordsmanship and footwork, a mid-range Crescent Slash, and an aerial partner right above him.

*The debt collector came back to collect,* Eric thought, a cold smile touching his lips. *Let’s see if he can handle the interest.*

Across the room, the clash between the Captains hit full speed.

The syndicate boss roared in fury, his suit jacket shredded to rags as he swung a massive, serrated greatsword. Every swing threw out heavy shockwaves that cracked the stone floor, aiming right for Alena’s chest.

Yet Alena moved with smooth, disciplined footwork. Her Blackthorn suit hummed, its blue conduits glowing bright. She was simply faster.

"Darkness Blast."

BOOM!

A tight ball of shadow hit the flat of the boss’s broad blade, killing his downward swing in a spray of sparks. Pivoting on her heel, Alena drove her free hand out.

"Dark Spear."

A three-meter lance of solid black mana formed in the air, shooting forward to punch straight through the boss’s left shoulder plate, ripping metal and flesh apart.

Whenever stray weak spell bolts flew at her from the surviving goons, a translucent dome of shadow, her Dark Shield snapped up around her.

The weak Soldier-rank attacks shattered against the shield like brittle glass, completely unable to break a Captain’s natural defense. To an S-rank combatant, blocking them was just a reflex, an easy habit rather than any real strain.

By now, Impy had taken down over half the foot soldiers, leaving the floor slick with blood and groaning men. Eric and Coal had quietly handled more than a dozen stragglers, sealing off the escape routes.

Yet in the middle of the room, the fight between the beasts was dragging out.

While Dino was busy pounding the Boulderhorn Toad, the boss’s other two beasts were teaming up against him. The Mistmane Lion breathed out thick clouds of fog to blind the drake, while the fast Ashscale Lizard darted in and out of the vapor, spitting streams of sticky fire across Dino’s ribs. Dino growled in annoyance, snapping its jaws and swiping its heavy claws at the targets.

Seeing her drake tied down in a three-way brawl, Alena’s eyes cooled with impatience.

"Enough playing around," she murmured.

She raised her left hand, a third summoning circle flaring under her boots. This one was tiny next to Dino’s massive footprint, glowing with a soft mix of purple and black light.

FLASH.

Out of the mist came a small, palm-sized figure.

It was a tiny pixie, barely six inches tall, wearing a dress woven from dark threads. Insect-like wings buzzed fast behind her back, and her small pale face had two glowing purple eyes.

"Piiii~"

The creature let out a cute chime as it hovered next to Alena’s cheek.

"Piki," Alena pointed her blade toward the fog. "Cast illusions on the lion and the lizard."

"Pii!"

The dark pixie shot forward like a tiny star, flying straight into the fog where Dino was fighting the pair.

"Piiii~"

Piki stopped mid-air over the fight, holding out her small hands.

ZAP!

A beam of dark-pink mana shot from her fingers, hitting the Mistmane Lion right between its eyes.

The lion did not bleed, and it did not roar in pain. But the second the pink glow sank into its head, its eyes went blank and dull.

Its ears pinned back, and it let out a low snarl, turning completely away from the Darkspire Drake.

With a roar, the Mistmane Lion jumped forward, sinking its teeth straight into the neck of its own ally, the Boulderhorn Toad!

"CROAAAK?!" The giant toad screamed in shock, thrashing wildly as its teammate bit deep into its hide.

"Pii!"

Piki giggled, snapping her fingers to fire another beam of pink light.

The beam hit the Ashscale Lizard right on the snout. The fiery reptile hissed in confusion, its glowing veins flickering as the illusion locked in. Whipping its tail around, the lizard breathed a stream of hot fire straight into the toad’s open belly!

By the trucks, the syndicate boss stared at his beasts in complete horror, his eyes bulging wide.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU IDIOTS?!" the boss screamed, his voice cracking. "THAT’S NOT THE ENEMY! STOP ATTACKING THE TOAD!"

While the boss yelled in panic, Eric stepped out from the shadow of the steel beam.

The ten-minute timer on his potion was finally fading, the clear blur peeling back to show his dark drake-scale armor and the pale bone edge of the Wavecaller.

Eric locked his eyes on Scarface Vane’s face.

"Looking for me, Vane?" Eric said, his flat voice cutting through the noise. "Let’s see if you still want to break my legs."