Jack grimaced. The whiplash from triumph to dread hit like a punch to the gut.
They’d fought so hard, becoming the first in the game’s history to beat the Breach. They’d gained legendary titles, skills, and loot. And just as they returned, danger was waiting for them.
The crowd faded into the background. A few paces ahead stood the Slayer and his mount.
He was riding a T-Rex. A beast straight out of a nightmare.
Even from atop a megatherium—an enormous creature in its own right—Jack felt small. To this massive predator, the megatherium must’ve looked like a mouse to a cat. Its muscled jaws could crush a wagon. Its breath reeked of meat and menace.
Jack had faced plenty of monsters before. But this thing was different. Primeval. A king of kings. The kind of creature that made your instincts scream run before your brain could catch up.
And yet, it said a lot that Jack still felt more afraid of the rider than the beast.
The Slayer was a towering young man draped in the mantle of a white wolf. His muscles were like corded steel, and he had a pair of heavy blades strapped across his back. Power radiated from him in waves.
Looking at him made Jack feel like he was still level 1. It was as if everything he’d achieved in the game so far meant nothing before this guy.
Amari slid down from his horse and landed softly. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward.
“There’s no point running anymore, guys,” he said, not caring that the Slayer could hear him. “Not at our current level. We won’t get far.”
One by one, the others dismounted and took their places beside him. Marie. Horace. Rob. Jack hesitated, then dismissed Snowy. He placed the pot hive against the pyramid, next to where Horace had left the other one, and then stepped into line with them.
They stood shoulder to shoulder—a single front.
The Slayer followed suit, dismissing his T-Rex in a puff of smoke and landing with a quiet thud. He tilted his head, amused. “Oh? You guys aren’t running?”
“Why would we?” Amari said steadily. “You don’t scare us.”
The Slayer smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time,” he said. “Haven’t fought anyone quite like your crew since our fallout. Been itching for a rematch.”
Amari sneered. “You must be what? Level 53? 54? We don’t even have our class advancements yet. How will the fight be fair? It’ll be pure bullying. Why don’t you let us go? Let us gain more levels, and then we can fight. Or let’s meet at the arena. We can spar there.”
“Nah… In the arena, the stakes aren’t the same. You won’t give it your all unless you feel cornered. Here it’ll be more fun. Besides, you're slippery. I can't risk you running off on me. But I promise. It'll be a fair fight,” he said—with the same tone someone might use before stepping on an ant.
One by one, the few items the Slayer had equipped disappeared into his inventory. His swords, his jewelry, the white wolf pelt, his boots. The tension in the air didn’t vanish—but it thinned, like a thunderstorm pushed one hill farther.
“That should keep things interesting.”
Jack wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted—or honored. The guy was about to fight them half-naked and barehanded.
The Slayer started cracking his neck and knuckles as he studied each of them in turn. His gaze slid to Rob.
“Hi, Rob. I couldn’t believe it when you gave IronFoot and the others the slip.”
Rob went rigid. His jaw clenched as he swallowed.
“And this must be your cousin, Jack. You’ve got guts, man. I’ll give you that. Og passed me your message.”
He paused, fingers flicking through his interface with the lazy confidence of someone checking their texts mid-fight.
“Tell that idiotic wolf-Tarzan knockoff I’m coming to give him a spanking too. Those were your exact words, yes?”
The others turned to Jack, eyes wide.
Jack gulped. He glanced at the Slayer. Too calm. Too measured. He was the one in control, and he knew it.
In Portuguese, there was a saying: lose by a hundred, lose by a thousand—it was all the same. They were already screwed. He might as well go all in.
He cleared his throat. “Guys, you were absolutely right. The videos don’t do him justice. Look at him. He’s incredible. I can’t take my eyes off him.”
The Slayer furrowed his brow, caught off guard by the compliment—until Jack finished.
“He’s even uglier in person. Like someone slapped an alpaca’s face on a donkey’s butt.”
Every one of his teammates flinched.
Marie frantically waved her hand across her throat in the universal gesture for shut up, while Rob, who had already been pale, turned nearly transparent. Amari just closed his eyes in silent regret.
Jack fanned the air in front of his nose. “And goodness me. Is there a perfume-making or soap-crafting minor in the game? Because I swear this guy’s breath could peel paint. Rob, I bet they’re kicking themselves for dropping you—you were probably the only one brave enough to change this kid’s diaper.”
The Slayer’s eye twitched. “You…”
“Hush, whittle baby,” Jack said, leaning forward. “The adults are talking now. Go lie down, junior. Somewhere far enough we don’t have to smell you.”
While Jack kept talking, his fingers found the ocarina. The cool glaze met his skin—just steady enough to mask the tremble beneath. A quick glance told him the others were doing the same—making small, almost imperceptible movements.
Horace shifted a foot forward.
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Marie eased back a half-step.
Rob casually rested his hands on his belt, closer to his knives.
Amari didn’t move at all—he looked like he was already mid-fight, playing out every move in his mind.
The team was positioning. Preparing.
They’d survived the Breach.
They could survive him.
Jack took a breath and kept piling on. “Hey, Horace! What did the Slayer’s mom say to a leper gorilla?”
Horace’s voice came back weak. “W-what, J-Jack?”
“She said, ‘Oops—sorry, thought I was looking in the mirror.’”
That’s when the Slayer snapped and charged straight at Jack.
Good. He bit the bait.
If the Slayer was going to attack them anyway, better to decide who he attacked first. Now they knew exactly where to intercept.
Marie was already moving, lobbing small-radius bombs. Wherever the Slayer stepped—pop!—a mine had landed.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
But some of the explosions barely scratched him. There was the sound of metal meeting metal—damage negated, or at least heavily reduced.
What kind of skill blocks that much damage? He’s barely feeling her bombs!
Horace stepped into the Slayer’s path, shield raised.
Shield Bash!
He lunged, trying to stun the Slayer—but the strike missed. The Slayer swayed aside at the last second, movement fluid and effortless. Horace’s timing looked almost clumsy in comparison.
The Slayer’s fist rocketed forward.
Horace barely managed to raise his shield—
The impact rang out like a gong—CLANG!—as the blow launched Horace backward. His boots scraped against the stone as he tumbled, finally skidding to a stop.
The Slayer never slowed—he was still coming, straight for Jack.
Then Rob appeared behind him, the pommel of a dagger aimed squarely at his temple.
The Slayer slipped the strike and slammed a fist into Rob’s ribs. The blow sent him flying.
“Huh?” the Slayer grunted, surprised as Rob’s HP bar stayed green. “So little damage?”
Why’s he so surprised? Oh—right. The meal buffs.
The S-grade meal from before the Breach was still active:
Survival Stew:
+500 HP;
+300 Stamina;
[Rodent Sovereignty] – Ranged attacks deal +5% damage. Melee +10%;
[Royal Rodency] – Attacks deal 1% of a creature’s HP. 0.1% if it’s a boss;
[Prime Agility] – Passive stamina regen. +10% movement speed.
No wonder he was shocked. Five hundred bonus HP wasn’t just a boost—it was a whole extra health bar.
When he saw Horace’s health barely drop, he must’ve assumed it was because of the shield block. But now, seeing Rob—a squishy rogue—with that much health? That’s when it finally clicked.
In the meantime, the Slayer had probably come into the fight hungry—his way of keeping things “fair” and interesting.
Jack allowed himself a tiny smile. The Slayer had inadvertently walked into this fight with a massive disadvantage.
While he was distracted with Rob, a puff of shadow thickened behind him—soundless, sudden—Amari.
Shadow Walk!
Pommel Strike!
The Slayer froze—crowd controlled.
Jack gasped. Amari had been right beside him a heartbeat ago. He hadn’t seen him move—not even a twitch. And now he was behind the Slayer.
Did he just teleport? That had to be a new skill—probably from one of the legendary chests.
And it wasn’t just Jack. The Slayer had clearly been caught off guard, too.
For a moment, Amari unloaded everything he had. Bleed and acid debuffs took hold. One of Marie’s poisons landed. Then another. With the Slayer unequipped, the damage was stacking hard and fast.
The CC window ended. The Slayer surged forward with a growl, breaking free.
He was almost on Jack.
Jack turned and bolted. Time to run.
He took off like his life depended on it—because it absolutely did.
“HAAAAAA!” he screamed, arms pumping, legs flying. A glance over his shoulder confirmed it: the Slayer was barreling after him like a deranged bear.
“Get. Back. Here!” the Slayer roared.
“As if!” Jack shouted. “You think I’ll stop just because you asked? I knew you were dumb, but you keep raising the bar.”
He risked another glance and blinked. The distance between them was growing.
The Slayer noticed too. “How are you so fast?!”
Jack couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Hehehe. He doesn’t know about our free stat points.
The Slayer had probably thought they were further behind on stats. There was no way he could have guessed they’d received ten points from [The Defending Heroes] title and ten more from hitting level 30. Twenty free points, all dumped into Agility. Jack had done it because it helped with crafting—but as a side effect, it made him fast. Crazy fast. Add the buff meal, [Primate Agility], and the hide of the Flying Marmoset, and he was practically airborne.
He kept running with the Slayer on his heels—and the rest of the party trailing behind him, scrambling to catch up. It looked less like a PvP fight and more like a game of tag gone completely off the rails.
They were running laps around the pyramid. The passersby, NPCs, and players that had faded into the background during the standoff suddenly mattered again. Jack weaved between them, zigzagging through tight spaces and ducking low carts. The Slayer didn’t dodge, didn’t swerve—he simply barreled through bodies like a wrecking ball.
Then came the first dash.
Heroic Dash!
“Horace’s skill?” Jack panted, heart racing. “Oh right. Basic warrior ability—he’s got it too—”
Jack triggered his own [Dash], feet a blur as the cobblestones streaked beneath him. The gap stayed stubbornly unchanged.
But the Slayer wasn’t finished. Another skill—Wolf’s Sprint!
“Another dash?!” Jack gasped, forcing out another [Dash] of his own to keep the lead—barely.
He hurled another insult over his shoulder to hold the aggro.
“Try farting! Maybe it’ll give you a few bursts of speed—I heard you’ve got a talent for it!”
He could hear the Slayer snarling behind him, feel the fury boiling off him like heat. Good. Stay mad. Stay focused. Stay chasing me.
But then—
Predator’s Leap!
The Slayer vanished in a blur and reappeared just behind him.
Just how many dashes does this guy have?!
Jack had no choice. Time to use one of his trump cards.
He spun, arm snapping back as he shouted—
Time Freeze!
The ring on his finger flared, silver light rippling across its surface. A brittle sound cracked through the air—like glass shattering under pressure.
The Slayer froze mid-stride. One foot off the ground. Frozen.
Jack didn’t stop running, but he glanced back and grinned. “Aw, what’s wrong? Need a nap break already?”
The Slayer didn’t look shocked—just… annoyed.
Battle Call!
He recognized the skill. A basic warrior self-buff Horace used all the time. It also purged debuffs.
Nothing happened.
“Uh?”
Still nothing.
The Slayer twitched—but couldn’t move. [Time Freeze] held.
Jack couldn’t help but smirk. A skill from a legendary ring isn’t that simple, dude. It couldn’t be dodged or broken.
It was just enough time for the others to catch up.
Amari and Rob arrived first, hitting the Slayer with a brutal combo. Bleed, poison, and acid debuffs stacked instantly. When the CC was about to wear off, Amari’s new tabis flared with light. He stepped in and drove a knee into the Slayer’s ribs.
Shadow Kick!
The Slayer buckled—stunned again.
A burst of red aura exploded from him as he activated another cleanse.
Cleansing Rage!
Still nothing. The debuff held.
Now, the Slayer wasn’t just annoyed—he was shocked. Both of his cleanse skills had failed.
Jack watched from a distance. Amari had used yet another new skill. It had to be something special to be immune to cleansing. Could Amari’s tabis be a legendary item like his ring?
“Run, Jack! We’ll hold him!” Amari shouted, landing another strike.
Jack didn’t argue.
He spotted Marie and sprinted toward her while Amari and Rob kept the Slayer pinned. Marie’s bombs landed at the edges of the fight—never too close, never wasteful. Just enough pressure to keep the Slayer boxed in.
Jack reached her side and activated his ring’s second skill.
Time Field!
The air shimmered. Space twisted around them like heat off sunbaked stone. Sound bent. Light slowed. Jack stood in the eye of a temporal storm.
His heartbeat felt out of sync with the world, too fast for a moment frozen in glass.
Outside, everything crawled at half-speed. It was like looking through aquarium glass.
“Jack? What is this thing?” Marie asked, eyes wide.
“A time-acceleration field,” he said, already tracking her bombs. They were still flying—still hitting—but to anyone outside, it must have looked like Marie had grown an extra set of arms. She was throwing bombs twice as fast as she usually did. The Slayer’s HP was dropping noticeably quicker.
If her attacks work from here… then maybe… just maybe…
He raised the ocarina—and began to play Lilly’s Lullaby.
