He moved through the maze with single-minded purpose, killing any robed figures he encountered without even slowing down. They tried to ambush him from hidden alcoves built into the walls. They tried to trap him with magical arrays that would have bound a normal intruder. They tried to collapse corridors on top of him using triggered mechanisms.

Nothing worked. His rage made him unstoppable, his skills made him untouchable, and his power made their defenses meaningless.

[Devour]. [Devour]. [Devour].

More skills. More power. More fuel for the rage burning in his chest like a furnace.

<System Notification - Combat Log> [Trap Detection] (Enhanced) acquired

[Enhanced Perception] acquired

[Labyrinth Navigation] acquired

[Dark Magic - Intermediate] (Enhanced from Basic) acquired

[Nightmare Realm Sense] acquired

Behind him, his companions followed as quickly as they could while fighting their own battles, cutting down the remaining defenders. But they were falling further and further behind, unable to match Satou's berserker pace that seemed to defy physical limitations.

"He's lost control completely!" Grimnir shouted, his own bloodlust making him grin savagely even as he worried for his brother. "I've never seen him like this before! Not even against the serpent king!"

"Can we stop him even if we wanted to?" Urgot asked between labored breaths as they ran through corridors littered with corpses, blood painting the walls.

"Would you want to?" Kelvin replied grimly, his expression hard. "Look at what they did to him. He deserves this revenge more than anyone deserves anything."

Shadow said nothing, but their pace quickened as if they too were eager to reach the heart of this fortress and confront its master. Their curved blade dripped with blood, and their movements had taken on an almost fevered quality.

Satou burst through another door, this one leading to what appeared to be a throne room based on the architecture and furnishings. It was massive—easily a hundred meters across and fifty meters wide, with a vaulted ceiling that disappeared into darkness overhead despite magical lights illuminating the lower areas.

The walls were carved with more nightmare imagery, scenes of suffering and terror rendered in excruciating detail by master artisans. Tapestries hung between the carvings, depicting famous tortures and legendary kills attributed to Merc Assault over his centuries of existence.

And at the far end of the chamber, seated on a throne made from what looked like solidified darkness given physical form, was him.

Merc Assault.

The nightmare demon who'd tortured Satou. The legendary assassin who'd killed countless victims over centuries of existence. The monster who'd tried to break Satou's mind and enslave his soul through psychological warfare.

He looked exactly as he had in the nightmare realm, burned into Satou's memory with perfect clarity—tall and gaunt with a build that suggested whipcord strength rather than bulk, with pale skin stretched tight over angular bones that seemed too sharp to be entirely human. His eyes were pools of absolute darkness with tiny pinpricks of red light in their centers like distant dying stars.

He wore elaborate robes that seemed to be woven from shadows themselves, the fabric shifting and flowing in ways that defied physics. His long fingers ended in claws that could rend flesh or pierce minds with equal ease, each one carved with runes that glowed faintly with power.

When he saw Satou burst into his throne room covered in the blood of dozens of his servants, radiating killing intent so intense it was visible as a dark aura that made the air itself seem heavier—Merc Assault smiled.

It was a terrible smile, full of teeth that were just slightly too sharp and too numerous. A predator's smile that had no warmth or humanity in it.

"Welcome, Satou," Merc Assault said, his voice carrying that nightmare-quality that made reality itself seem less stable just from hearing it. Multiple tones layered over each other in harmonics that hurt to process. "I've been expecting you. Watching your approach through my servants' eyes as you slaughtered them. Impressed, I must admit, by how thoroughly you've carved your way through my forces. Such rage. Such beautiful, focused hatred."

He stood from his throne with movements that were unnaturally fluid, like water flowing uphill. "You walked straight into a trap, you realize. My fortress, my domain, my power at its peak while you're exhausted from fighting through my army. You should have stayed in your comfortable little settlement and hoped I'd forgotten about you. Should have accepted that you survived once through luck and left it at that."

His smile widened, showing even more of those too-sharp teeth. "But I'm glad you came. The torture I have planned for you this time will make our first encounter seem like a pleasant dream by comparison. I've had weeks to prepare, to craft nightmares specifically tailored to break you. Jessica was just the beginning. Wait until you see what I've designed using your other loved ones. Your brothers. Your settlement. Everyone you've ever cared about, dying in ways that will haunt you for whatever remains of your shattered existence."

Satou's response was a wordless roar of pure rage that shook the entire throne room. His aura exploded outward with such force that it cracked the stone floor beneath his feet in radiating patterns, sending chunks of basalt flying. The tapestries on the walls burst into flames from the sheer intensity of power.

[Berserk Mode] activated fully in response to his emotional state, and his form began to physically change.

His muscles swelled, growing larger and more defined until they strained against his clothing. His eyes began glowing with crimson light that matched the red in Merc Assault's terrible gaze. Black markings spread across his skin like living tattoos, pulsing with power in rhythm with his heartbeat. His hair seemed to move as if in an invisible wind, and small arcs of dark energy crackled around his body like miniature lightning.

This was the full manifestation of his berserker state—a transformation that multiplied his already formidable combat capabilities several times over but at the cost of rational thought and self-preservation instincts. In this state, he was a weapon pointed at a target, nothing more and nothing less. A force of nature given purpose and direction.

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.