The battlefield exploded into motion.

The eight masked figures reacted at the same time. Dark symbols burned across their masks as twisted powers awakened.

The one in the center raised his hand. His aura was heavier than the rest.

"I am the Apostle of Madness," he said, his voice layered and unstable. "Your courage will break."

A wave of distorted energy spread outward. The air twisted. Sounds bent. Even thoughts felt slower, heavier.

John felt it—but laughed.

"Trying to shake my mind?" he said. "Too weak."

Golden sigils flared around his head, stabilizing his thoughts as he pushed forward.

Another masked figure slammed both hands together.

"Slaughter Domain."

Blood-red light flooded the area. The ground cracked open, forming jagged blades of hardened blood that surged toward John from every direction.

John snapped his fingers.

"Golden Bastion."

A dome of condensed gold formed around him. The blood blades crashed into it and shattered instantly.

Before they could react, golden chains tightened.

One masked figure screamed as the chains burned into his body.

"God of Corrosion, grant me ruin!" another shouted.

Black-green mist poured from his hands, eating through stone and metal alike. The mist touched a golden chain—and began to melt it.

John looked at them grining wildly " Such petty tricks won't work on me"

He raised his hand.

"Rule Power: Absolute Refinement."

The melting chain flashed brighter—and instead of corroding, it purified the mist on contact, turning it into harmless smoke. The masked figure staggered back in shock.

At the same time, a third enemy slammed his staff into the ground.

"Rot of the Abyss."

The earth turned black and soft. A decay field spread rapidly, draining vitality from everything it touched. Plants withered instantly.

Tina reacted.

"Greater Blessing: Radiant Vitality."

Golden-white light surged from her staff, countering the decay. The rot slowed, then stopped spreading.

Ray fired.

Lightning screamed through the air as his arrow split into three mid-flight.

"Storm Mark."

The arrows curved unnaturally and struck two masked figures. Electricity exploded across their bodies, locking their muscles and throwing them back.

Leon moved.

He appeared behind one of the masked enemies without a sound.

Two red blades crossed.

The masked figure froze—then collapsed, blood spraying as his dark aura faded.

"Assassin!" one of them shouted.

Too late.

John stepped forward again.

Golden spears formed behind him—dozens of them.

"Gold King Art," he said calmly.

"Judgment Rain."

The spears fell like meteors.

Explosions shook the ground as two masked figures were pierced and pinned down, their dark powers breaking apart under the pure authority of gold.

The leader snarled, his aura flaring violently.

"Madness will consume you all!"

His body twisted as black veins spread across his skin. Power surged far beyond normal Rank 6 limits.

John cracked his neck.

"Good," he said, grinning. "Now it's worth my time."

Golden chains reformed, thicker and covered in runes.

While the fight raged in the sky, Mike faced new opponents on the ground.

"So… it's you, right?" Mike said calmly, the Emerald Heart Sword resting on his shoulder as he looked at the masked man in front of him.

The man was Rank 4.

But something felt off.

"His aura is weak," Mike thought. "Too weak for someone his level."

"But it doesn't matter" Mike said coldly as for the first time he arrived in this new life of his, he is angry, " You will die!" Mike said looking at the maske figure who only grinned under his half face mask.

He almost lost what he wanted always, A Family.

After awakening in this world, Mike had been happy—not because traveling to another world was every otaku wet dream, but because he finally had a family.

A real one.

A loving father. A caring mother. A noisy little sister.

In his previous life, Mike had been an orphan. He could only watch other children laugh with their parents from a distance. His entire childhood passed without warmth, without protection, without anyone waiting for him at home.

But this Mike—this body's original owner—had been blessed.

And now that blessing was his.

"I won't lose them. Never," Mike said quietly.

"Are you an idiot?" the masked figure sneered. "Can't you sense the difference in our ranks?"

A long sword formed in the man's hand, pulsing with yellow-black flames that twisted unnaturally, as if they were alive.

"I am one who has been blessed by the God of Madness," the masked man declared proudly. "Do you really think you can fight me?"

The moment he finished speaking, his vision tilted.

"Huh…?"

He fell down.

But his body was still standing—headless.

The realization never fully reached his mind.

His head hit the ground a heartbeat later.

"What did you think this was," Mike said coldly, already turning away, "some kind of movie where villains get to talk?"

The corpse collapsed behind him.

Mike didn't look back.

Energy distorted around him, and in the next instant he vanished, reappearing dozens of meters away where another masked figure was attacking civilians.

It was Dimensional Step. He had used the same technique earlier to behead his previous target.

Now, he arrived before the next one.

"Hahaha! Slaughter them all!" the masked figure roared, swinging his weapon toward a man who was desperately trying to resist him.

But suddenly someone came behind him.

A green blade flashed.

The masked man's head was severed cleanly, rolling across the ground before his body even realized it was dead.

"Go inside. This is much safer," Mike said looking at the man.

He expanded the Shadow Domain once more. Darkness folded outward, forming a portal as the man thanked Mike and then he pulled his wife and little child inside, along with others who were badly injured and unable to move.

Once he was sure they were safe, Mike closed the domain.

Then he moved again.

Dimensional Step.

His speed increased even further. Mike became a blur—appearing, striking, vanishing—his movements sharp and relentless, cutting down masked figures one after another like ripe grain before a scythe.

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