Zakar smiled lightly. He had already deduced how to deal with the threat. It was simple. Attack with a clear mind. Well that itself was difficult and close to impossible.

Well the second option was to strike faster than the Ratgoon could detect. That would be a better way to deal with it. So that meant he had to depend on his speed.

He was pretty confident in his speed so that was not his primary problem. He was concerned about the weak who were obviously going to die since they lacked both speed and precision to indulge against the Ratgoon.

"Ok then. All I have to do is to leave some chunk of the Ratgoon for them to finish off as the final killers." Zakar muttered to himself.

"Everyone. Fight for yourself. If you can't face this thing then you do not deserve to return back with the strong." A young man exclaimed with a confident grin on his face.

"Damn idiot. An A rank huh?" Zakar whispered to himself and smiled.

Suddenly dozens if Ratgoons began to appear from nowhere. Everyone stared at them in shock and awe.

The player who had bragged a minute ago dashed forward with extreme speed and with his bulder strength he smashed against a Ratgoon.

His blow connected but another Ratgoon caught him midair and with its powerful jaws crushed his left leg into nothing but muscles and blood.

"Arghh!!!" He exclaimed in pain. Zakar sighed lightly.

"Bigger threats now. They look after each others back. This would things pretty difficult here. But... here goes..." he whispered and in the blink of an eye he was behind a Ratgoon.

Everyone gasped in shock. But he was not done. He shifted his body just before another Ratgoon struck at him. Then he swiftly picked up the player and in another blink of an eye, he was back at his spot with the man in his arms.

"What the..."

"Did he seriously do that?"

"Was that speed?"

"He is faster than the S rank? What rank is he again?"

Zakar smirked. Then he stared at the man he had just saved. His eyes glinted sharply.

"What was it you said about the weak?" Zakar asked amusingly. The player stated at him for a while and grinned.

"Damn you. I could have defeated them without your help." Zakar sighed.

"Ok. Seems like I made the wrong call." Then he grabbed him by the collar and swung him towards the Ratgoons.

"No!!! I'll kill you!!!" He exclaimed but as soon as he spoke the Ratgoons feasted on his body, tearing him apart.

"Tch. Just as I thought. They react to any form of killing intent."

"What's wrong with you!"

Zakar walked forward and smiled. His smirk was confident. He had collected every necessary information he needed. He was now going to act on it.

Zakar's voice cut through the panic like a blade:

"If you want to survive, listen to me. I'll weaken as many Ratgoons as possible. Each team finishes them immediately after. Don't hesitate. Don't think. Don't let intent form—just ACT."

A handful of Players nodded desperately.

Others trembled, unable to process anything beyond fear.

Several still stared at the mutilated corpse of the arrogant A-rank, unable to accept how fast powerful people could die.

The dozens of Ratgoons circled them now—silent, sharp, vicious, their violet eyes reflecting every heartbeat in the clearing.

Zakar slowly exhaled.

His fingers twitched once.

Then—

The Tyrann Sword flashed into his palm like lightning crystallizing into metal.

The blade drank the light around it.

It hummed.

It throbbed.

It gave off a pressure that made even the Ratgoons hesitate.

Zakar's eyes narrowed, calculating the distance, speed, angle, and aggression of every monster in front of him.

No intent.

No conscious desire to kill.

Just motion.

Just instinct.

Just technique.

The Ratgoons all inhaled at once, their bodies lowering.

Zakar whispered:

"…Showtime."

He vanished.

No crack of air.

No rush of wind.

No footstep.

Only the flicker of something passing faster than gravity could comprehend.

SHAAAAAK!

A Ratgoon's head flew into the air before the creature even understood what had happened. Its body remained frozen mid-pounce, as if confused by the sudden lack of sensory input.

Then it collapsed.

A group of four Players immediately screamed:

"Finish it!"

"Stab it! Stab it now!"

"Go! Don't hesitate!"

They rushed in and delivered the final blows. The system trembled:

[Kill registered: Team 8]

Zakar had already moved.

He blinked into existence behind two more Ratgoons.

One snapped toward him—too slow.

The Tyrann Sword sliced outward in a clean, horizontal arc.

CRRRRRRRRRAK—SHIIING!

Blood exploded in a ring around him, the metallic scent flooding the air. Both creatures hit the ground before their brains could register pain.

Three different teams dashed forward and punctured the bodies.

[Kill registered: Team 17]

[Kill registered: Team 3]

Another Ratgoon shrieked behind him and lunged.

Zakar didn't even turn.

He twisted his wrist.

The Tyrann Sword whipped around his back in a flawless reverse-grip slash.

GRAAAAAAAH—SKRRRRRT!

The Ratgoon's chest split open from jaw to stomach. Its insides spilled onto the dirt in a steaming, wet heap.

A hammer-wielding D-rank smashed its skull a heartbeat later.

[Kill registered: Team 11]

"Did you see that?" someone screamed.

"He's not human!"

"No one moves that fast!"

"He's… he's not ranking correctly! No way he's just a Death Player—"

Zakar ignored all of it.

He faded again.

THE RATGOONS RESPOND

Dozens of eyes glowed in unison.

Every Ratgoon suddenly crouched low—coordinated, synchronized.

Then—

FWOOOOOM!!

They all charged.

The ground vibrated.

Trees shook.

Players screamed and scattered like insects.

Zakar's expression darkened.

They're adapting.

One Ratgoon tried flanking him from the left.

Zakar pivoted, slashing.

CRACK!

His blade cut through three, not one.

Another leaped down from a tree.

Zakar's foot snapped upward, kicking it in the jaw, snapping its neck mid-air.

Three more swarmed his blind spot.

He spun the Tyrann Sword in an outward spiral—just one rotation—and dismembered all three.

He grabbed the last one by the skull and slammed it into the ground so hard the earth cratered.

Gasps erupted across the battlefield.

"That wasn't strength…"

"That was technique—!"

"He's using internal force? That's not a System skill…"

"He's fighting like a monster!"

Zakar didn't stop.

Not even for a heartbeat.

Six Ratgoons pounced simultaneously different angles, different speeds, different strategies.

The untrained eye saw chaos.

Zakar saw geometry.

He stepped forward, shifting weight with surgical control.

The first Ratgoon leaped—

Zakar ducked.

The second lunged—

Zakar twisted.

The third tried biting—

Zakar's knee smashed its ribs.

The fourth slashed—

Zakar parried with the flat of his blade.

The fifth aimed for his throat—

Zakar kicked its jaw upward.

The sixth tried to bite his spine—

FLASH!!

He spun.

A perfect circle of silver carved all six in a single, continuous, unbroken arc.

Meat rained from the sky.

Teams rushed in desperately to claim their finishing strikes, yelling in panic.

[Kill registered: Team 4]

[Kill registered: Team 19]

[Kill registered: Team 2]

[Kill registered: Team 20]

Zakar stood in the center of the battlefield like the axis around which death rotated.

His breathing steady.

His heartbeat calm.

His mind clean—empty—intentless.

Perfect.

"Zakar behind you!!!"

Three Ratgoons descended from above, jaws open.

Zakar flicked his wrist.

The Tyrann Sword extended outward in a minimalist arc—

SWOOOSH!

All three collapsed in four pieces each.

Blood drenched the grass.

More Players swooped in to finish them, crying in panic as they stabbed wildly at the twitching bodies.

[Kill registered…]

[Kill registered…]

Zakar didn't react. The battlefield was almost clear.

Only ten Ratgoons remained spreading out in a cautious circle around him.

Their violet eyes burned.

Their tails swished in warning.

They were learning to fear him.

Zakar rolled his neck slowly, cracking the joints.

"Alright…" he muttered. "Now the real fun."

He dashed—no, melted—into motion.

CRACK!!!

The first Ratgoon's arm flew off.

SHKOOOOOM!!

The second split from spine to jaw.

GRAAAAA!!!

The third shrieked as Zakar impaled it through the stomach and flung it into the fourth.

The remaining six pounced.

Zakar accelerated.

He disappeared completely from visual range.

Players froze in terror.

Then—

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!!

Six explosions of dirt erupted around the circle as he reappeared in six different positions in one second. Each position corresponded to a killing arc, and in the time it took for a Player to blink, all six Ratgoons lay on the ground bleeding out.

The Players didn't even need instructions.

They raced forward to land their finishing touches.

One after another, the system registered:

[Kill registered]

[Kill registered]

[Kill registered]

Until only one Ratgoon remained.

Zakar's Ratgoon.

His last one.

The creature trembled as he approached.

It hissed weakly, sensing only one thing in him:

No hatred.

No rage.

No bloodlust.

No intent.

Just inevitability.

Zakar crouched.

"You're the last obstacle. Sorry."

He vanished.

Then reappeared behind the creature, his sword dripping.

The Ratgoon's head slid off its neck.

THUD.

Zakar sheathed the Tyrann Sword.

THE SYSTEM RESPONDS

A deep chime boomed across the forest.

[All Ratgoons defeated.]

[All surviving Players will be returned.]

[Mission complete.]

A pillar of red light descended around Zakar.

The world began dissolving like mist pulled into a vortex.

Voices echoed faintly around him as entire teams stared at him with disbelief, admiration, and fear:

"He killed more than thirty on his own…"

"What is he…?"

"That wasn't natural movement…"

"He saved half the field…"

"He's faster than an S rank…"

"Who the hell is Zakar really…?"

Zakar didn't answer any of them.

The pulled sensation intensified, dragging him upward—

And the forest vanished.

Zakar appeared in the Rift Hall, the red glow receding from his skin. The noise of the other Players returning in waves quickly filled the space.

Some were missing limbs.

Some limped.

Some wept.

Some collapsed and vomited.

Some were eerily silent.

About half of the players had survived.

Zakar's fists tightened.

He had been too slow.

He didn't show it on his face.

But the weight pressed heavily on him.

A few surviving players approached him timidly.

"You… saved us…"

"If you weren't there…"

"You held the whole map alone…"

"Thank you…"

Zakar gave a small nod and turned away.

His eyes scanned the room until he found Sera, Myia, and Justin—still unconscious—lying exactly where he had left them before the mission.

He walked to them, crouched, and checked their breathing.

All stable.

He exhaled softly, relief flickering through his eyes.

"Another day… another survival test."

The Rift Hall lights dimmed, signaling the closing of Mission 02.

And Zakar, exhausted and blood-stained, prepared himself for the next nightmare the Academy would throw his way.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.