Chapter 26 : As Expected of a Captain


    A sudden sharp whistle cut through the air, a distinct sound that signaled something tearing through the wind at an astonishing speed.


    The assailant’s senses flared. Something was coming, something fast. He didn’t need to see it to know, he could feel the pressure in the surroundings had changed, an invisible force bearing down on him with lethal intent.


    Those senses screamed at him to move, forcing him to glance back to see what was going on.


    And at that moment, he saw it.


    A glint, like a mirror that reflected light on a hot day.


    But it feels sharp and cold…


    For no more than a quarter of a second, that glint existed in his vision. A fleeting shimmer, like a phantom in the dark. His mind barely had the time to process it, let alone react.


    Srrrssh


    And a sickening, pierce of a sound roared.


    His movement halted. A sharp, foreign force tore into his chest, cutting through the thin armor, through flesh. His body jolted as if struck by lightning, an unbearable shock spreading from the point of impact. For a moment, he felt weightless as if his own body no longer belonged to him.


    His knees wobbled and his vision blurred. The strength he had just summoned to propel himself away, the sheer will to escape, was now disappearing. His body betrayed him, locking up as the world around him slowed.


    All that escaped was a broken gasp.


    “Da…nn..”


    Though his vision wavered, his eyes struggled to focus as he forced himself to look down at his chest.


    That blade…


    It was unmistakable, the very same weapon that had clashed against his own mere moments ago, the very same blade Aron had wielded throughout their battle. The polished steel gleamed under the dim light, slick with fresh crimson. It had found its mark, buried deep into his chest.


    He never saw Aron throw it. He had been watching him, hadn''t he? Yet, in the instant he turned to flee, the weapon had already been sent flying with such accuracy.


    … No, maybe because he was too focused on retreating just now that he didn’t have the chance to see what Aron was doing.


    A slight realization crashed over him.


    His fading vision locked onto Aron, and in that instant, understanding finally dawned upon him.


    Aron hadn’t moved forward. He hadn’t pursued. He hadn''t even broken the stance he had been in before.


    …Wait, it isn’t the same stance?


    That is not the stance of a coiled serpent, ready to strike like before…


    It was the stance of someone who had just thrown something, an object hurled with immense force and perfect precision. The slight twist of his torso, the residual motion in his extended arm, the way his fingers were still slightly curled as if they had only just released their grip, it all pointed to one undeniable fact.


    “Did he predict… My move...”


    He gritted his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He knew his own endurance, knew that a single stab, even to the chest, wouldn’t kill him instantly. He had fought through worse.


    So… What the hell… is this!?


    His fingers trembled as he instinctively reached for the wound.


    …That guy…


    He hadn’t just landed a clean hit.


    He had landed a perfect, critical strike?


    Somewhere in his chest, past the layers of armor and muscle, the blade had struck that somehow disrupted his body''s ability to recover, one that drained his strength far faster than it should have.


    Such critical hit?


    And hit my vital points?


    Like, how!?


    How could Aron have thrown a blade with such wild accuracy?


    Damn it…


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    ****** luck…


    As his body gave in to gravity, he felt the last remnants of his strength slipping away.


    A faint glow began to emit from his wounds, flickering softly like embers in the wind. It started at the point where Aron''s blade had pierced his chest, then spread outward in thin streams of light.


    His health bar, now barely visible in the corner of his vision, drained rapidly. The red sliver that remained was no longer enough to sustain his existence.


    Drrrrbg


    As he fell down, in the end, it finally reached zero.


    The moment the last point of his health was depleted, his entire body pulsed once with an eerie, golden glow before fragmenting into shimmering particles.


    The particles scattered into the air, drifting like dust caught in a fading light. Within seconds, the last trace of his presence vanished, leaving nothing behind but the faint remnants of his defeat.


    “Good-... Never mind…”


    Aron closed his eyes as he strode forward, his boots making soft yet deliberate sounds against the ground. The battlefield was silent now, still tension was like the echoes of a vanished storm.


    As he approached, a faint spark caught his attention. A little sparkling, subtle yet distinct, right where the assailant had perished. It flickered like a dying ember, barely visible to the untrained eye.


    Aron stopped a few steps away, his gaze fixed on the spot. He knew this glow well. It was the telltale sign of an item drop, something left behind after a defeated player or NPC. However, it wasn’t the dull flicker of common loot, nor the faint hue of ordinary gear.


    Cautiously, he moved closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade as if old instincts warned him against lowering his guard too soon.


    Aron bent down and reached for the glowing object, his fingers closing around its cool, solid form. As he lifted it, the glow began to fade, revealing the true nature of the item beneath.


    With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the inspection window, a translucent interface appearing before him with detailed information about the item. His sharp eyes scanned the text, taking in the name, rarity, and attributes in a matter of seconds.


    His brows raised slightly.


    “Huh… Interesting,” Aron muttered to himself, tilting the item slightly as he examined its details further.


    “Hahah…”


    Aron let out a small chuckle as he pocketed the item. "As expected of a captain of a squad in that guild," he muttered, shaking his head with an amused smile.


    It made sense now, why the two assailants had such solid teamwork, why their attack pattern had been so refined. They weren’t just random obstacles looking for trouble,


    Yes.


    Aron had known who these two people were. More like, who these two players were.


    The first attacker, the one who had initially tested the waters, was RazorVeldt, a name that had been floating around in various PvP circles. He was known for his speed and precision, a player who specialized in high-mobility combat, often overwhelming opponents with relentless strikes before they could react.


    The second assailant, the one who had launched the coordinated follow-up attack, was DreadPierce. Unlike RazorVeldt, he relied more on brute force and relentless aggression. His combat style was known to be about pressing the opponent into a corner, forcing mistakes through sheer intensity rather than speed alone.


    Both of them were members of Iron Accord, a well-established guild in the Second World.


    Aron looked around for a while, shaking his head as he glanced at the spot where the two had vanished into scattered light particles. “So in this quest, my obstacles are literal players right off the bat, huh? Such a greeting.” His tone carried a mix of resignation and amusement.


    That meant the system had specifically created a quest for other players to hinder his progress, Aron thought. If that was the case, then this was an intentional mechanic designed to pit players against him.


    A counter like quest.


    It wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare for it to happen.


    Aron rubbed his chin in thought.


    If the system had assigned a mission to obstruct me, then what kind of rewards did it promise to the other side?


    Depending on how lucrative the reward was, more players might come after him…


    "Alright, let’s not waste any more time no more. Better get going before the system assigns more trouble my way." Aron let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as he turned away from the spot where the two players had been slain.


    Aron looked around one more time before turning away, his thoughts already shifting toward his next destination. There was no point lingering here any longer as he had more pressing matters to attend to.


    The glint of loot from their fading bodies had already vanished into his inventory, but he barely spared it a second thought. He could check the details later. Right now, his priority was reaching Hollow Verge before more obstacles showed up.


    His boots echoed against the damp stone streets as he quickened his pace. The encounter had already cost him a bit of time after all.


    …


    The cityscape around him was a mix of rusted metal, crumbling brick, and neon flickers of faulty streetlights. Hollow Verge was like a lawless expanse where battles could erupt in the shadows without warning.


    Still, he didn’t slow down.


    His grip was still on his shield, his mind already running through possible scenarios.


    "Guess I''ll find out soon enough," he muttered to himself, his smirk somehow returning.


    Aron’s steps slowed as his eyes scanned the surrounding structures, his mind carefully matching the details he saw with the information he had gathered. The further he walked, the more the environment changed like how the brick walls became more corroded, metal pipes snaked out of ruined buildings like rusted veins, and the air itself seemed thicker, heavier with an eerie silence.


    Then, his gaze landed on it.


    A towering structure, half consumed by time, loomed at the end of the dimly lit street.


    “The outer side of Rusted Spire… huh?”


    Even with just a glance, he knew he had found his destination. The place carried an oppressive aura, as if the weight of forgotten battles and abandoned ambitions had settled within its very foundation. A massive entrance stood before him, its once grand archway now chipped and scarred with deep gashes. Cracks ran along the walls, and faded insignias hinted at what the building once represented before it fell into ruin.


    The data he had brought together described it as an old, forsaken part of District 17. It was a remnant of a past era within the game, a relic that still clung to existence but had long lost its original purpose.


    Aron knew better than to underestimate forgotten places like this.


    A clue for the Unique Rarity item…


    He took a few steps forward, his boots kicking up dust from the uneven pavement.


    “Well then… let’s see what’s inside.”