Chapter 50: Quieted rage
The dark red aura erupting from Balthazar’s physical framework was no longer just a manifestation of raw strength; it was a localized cataclysm.
The absolute humiliation of being treated like a casual playground attraction by a magicless human had completely shattered the Dread Commander’s fanatical sanity. His internal organs roared, blood vessels instantly rupturing beneath his skin as he forced his biological limits past the point of no return.
HISS!
The stone courtyard didn’t just crack—it began to actively liquefy. The immense, radiant thermal energy leaking from the seams of his obsidian armor turned the gravel beneath his iron boots into a bubbling, glowing sea of white-hot slag.
High up on the battlements, the defensive runes along the inner walls began to scream. A violent, scorching wind whipped upward, instantly singeing the emerald military silks of the Elven Queen.
"Your Highness, the heat signature is escalating exponentially!"
Elder Everwood shouted, shielding his face from the blinding, crimson glare.
"The thermal backdraft is moving toward the lower civilian roots! If he unleashes a full discharge in that state, the entire southern quadrant of the capital tree will catch fire!"
The Queen’s amber eyes widened in sudden, absolute panic. Her exceptionally busty frame tensed beneath her golden chestplate as she realized the true gravity of Balthazar’s berserker state.
"The wards cannot sustain a localized thermal explosion of that magnitude. If the roots burn, the canopy falls..."
Down below, Vince’s purple eyes narrowed as the system interface in his peripheral vision flashed a series of rapid, amber warning indicators.
---
[ENVIRONMENTAL THREAT DETECTED]
* Target [Dread Commander Balthazar] has entered State: [Fanatical Blood-Overload].
* Current Ambient Temperature: 840°C (Rising rapidly).
* Structural Integrity of Surrounding Capital Roots: Decreasing by 1.2% per second.
---
Tch.
Vince clicked his tongue internally, his relaxed, mocking grin instantly vanishing into a sharp, frown.
The deal.
The Queen’s exact words echoed through his mind with absolute clarity:
"If you fail, or if a single branch of the capital tree falls, I will personally flay the skin from your bones."
More importantly, if the capital tree sustained permanent structural damage, his bargaining chip for the date—and the subsequent access to the high-tier royal resources—would be completely sabotaged.
He couldn’t afford to toy with the muscle-brain anymore. The time for entertainment was officially over.
"I WILL BURN this entire parasitic forest to ash, and you along with it!"
Balthazar shrieked, his voice completely distorted by the sheer volume of blood filling his throat.
BOOM!
Balthazar lunged. The sheer velocity of his movement was twice as fast as before, his melting iron silhouette tearing through the air like a demonic meteor.
He hoisted his glowing, white-hot executioner’s axe back, preparing to swing a massive, horizontal shockwave that would flatten the entire courtyard and ignite the primary root walls in a single, catastrophic sweep.
Vince didn’t drift back this time. He took a single, deliberate step forward, his fingers tightening around the leather-bound hilt of The Executioner’s Edge.
"System,"
Vince commanded mentally, his voice dropping into a cold, lethal register.
"Route all remaining vibration feedback parameters directly into the sub-sonic acceleration channels. Maximize the kinetic density of the next single strike. No delays."
---
[KINETIC OVERFLOW ROUTING COMPLETED]
* Output Level: 100% (Maximum Tier 4 Capacity).
* Active Skill: [Gale Step - Overdrive Variant].
* Warning: High physical strain detected on host baseline endurance.
---
Gale Step.
The sound that followed didn’t just crack the air—it shattered it.
The shockwave of Vince’s instantaneous acceleration tore a massive vacuum through the center of the courtyard, completely snuffing out the surrounding thermal flames for a fraction of a second.
To the watching elves, Vince didn’t just flicker; he became a solid beam of blinding purple light that sliced directly through the boiling, crimson aura of the Dread Commander.
The two weapons collided directly in the center of the melting stone expanse.
CLAAAAAANG!!!
A deafening, apocalyptic ring of metal against metal reverberated across the entire mountain range. Vince’s gunmetal-grey blade The Executioner’s Edge, reinforced to an impervious density, slammed directly against the haft of Balthazar’s white-hot axe.
The sheer, monumental kinetic load of the collision didn’t dissipate. Instead, it formed a massive, visible dome of compressed air that expanded outward like a physical wall.
The thousands of elven vanguard soldiers on the battlements were violently thrown backward, their silver shields clattering against the stone as the sheer atmospheric pressure nearly swept them off the edges.
Balthazar’s burning red eyes flared with a brief, terrifying instant of clarity behind his visor. He expected to push through. He expected his raw, suicidal berserker momentum to crush whatever resistance the magicless human offered.
But he was hitting an immovable mountain.
Vince stood perfectly planted, his boots sinking inches into the softening stone, his purple eyes gleaming with a dark, ultimate finality right in front of the Commander’s face. The massive, dense mass of his monstrous baseline didn’t yield a single millimeter.
"You’re bad for business, Balthazar,"
Vince whispered smoothly over the screeching friction of their blades.
With a sudden, violent twist of his torso, Vince utilized the maximum capacity of his Tier 4 reaction speed.
He slid his blade down the shaft of the axe, parrying the white-hot weapon harmlessly into the liquefied ground to his left, completely exposing Balthazar’s fractured, glowing chest plate.
Before the Commander could even attempt to recover his balance, Vince pulled his right fist back, the purple system energy visibly coiling around his forearm like a vortex of crushing gravity.
CRUSH.
Vince unleashed a brutal, straight redirection punch of saved hits directly into the center of Balthazar’s obsidian chest plate.
CRACK!!!
The impact was cataclysmic. The multi-layered obsidian armor, already brittle from the extreme internal heat, completely disintegrated into millions of flying, jagged shards. The sheer, concentrated kinetic discharge traveled straight through the armor, through Balthazar’s massive torso, and exploded out of his back in a visible cone of shattered air pressure.
Balthazar didn’t even have time to scream.
The sheer momentum lifted his seven-foot, heavily armored frame entirely off the ground, launching him like a cannonball. His body tore across the courtyard, blasted straight through the ruins of the massive fifty-foot outer gates, and skipped violently down the rocky mountain pass beyond, carving a deep, smoking trench into the hillside before finally grinding to a dead, unconscious halt half a mile away in the dirt.
The oppressive, suffocating dark red aura instantly vanished.
The raging thermal fires along the stones began to sputter and die, leaving behind a smoldering, melted crater where the two men had just stood.
The grand courtyard fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
High up on the battlements, the Elven Queen remained frozen, her hands still gripping the ruined marble railing, her amber eyes wide with a profound, unadulterated awe. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, her exceptionally busty frame rising and falling with shallow, staggered breaths. She looked at the smoldering mountain pass, then looked back down at the center of the ruins.
Vince stood entirely alone in the quiet dark. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, casting a shadow over his face. He didn’t look tired. He didn’t look injured.
With a smooth, casual flick of his wrist, The Executioner’s Edge dissolved into a faint streak of purple light, returning securely into his digital inventory. He slowly reached into his pockets, sliding his hands inside as he turned his head upward.
His purple eyes cut through the rising smoke, locking directly onto the trembling Sovereign Monarch of the Canopy.
A slow, mocking, highly confident grin crept back onto his lips.
"The Canopy is safe at last, Your Highness,"
Vince’s cool, deadpan voice echoed flawlessly through the silent, stunned plaza.
"I believe you owe me a date."
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