Chapter 300: Border Patrol, The First Incursion

Wraith stood on the porch, fully geared up in his black leather stealth armor, breathing heavily. He held a pair of mundane, razor-sharp iron daggers in his hands. He looked like he had just sprinted a marathon.

"What?" Sebastian asked flatly, leaning against the doorframe.

"A rift just opened," Wraith panted, pointing a dagger toward the dense forest north of Sanctuary. "About three miles out. It wasn’t the Elves this time. It’s a raiding party. Big guys. Heavy armor. They look like scavengers from one of the outer rim servers. They’re already setting up a camp and slaughtering the local wildlife."

Sebastian stared at the assassin for a long, quiet moment. He looked back into the cabin. The smell of fresh coffee was drifting from the kitchen. Valerie was standing by the stove, holding two mugs, looking at him with a tired, knowing expression.

"I just wanted to sleep in," Sebastian whispered, a profound sadness in his voice.

"I’ll put the coffee in a thermos," Valerie offered sympathetically.

Sebastian turned back to Wraith. His lazy, exhausted demeanor evaporated instantly, replaced by the cold, ruthless pragmatism of the Sovereign.

"How many?" Sebastian asked, stepping out onto the porch.

"About fifteen," Wraith replied, twirling the dagger nervously. "They’re bragging loudly. Saying they’re going to claim the ’Capital’ and take the Source Code for themselves. They think because the System is down, the world is defenseless."

"Give me two minutes," Sebastian said.

He didn’t bother putting on his heavy, ruined leather coat. He just threw on a pair of dark combat boots, laced them up tight, and grabbed the heavy, mundane iron broadsword leaning against the wall. He strapped the crude leather scabbard across his back.

"Be careful, Seattle," Valerie said, handing him a battered metal thermos filled with hot coffee. She kissed his cheek. "No magic. Just physics."

"Just physics," Sebastian agreed, taking a quick sip of the coffee. "I’ll be back in twenty minutes."

He and Wraith left the cabin, jogging quickly down the grassy hill, bypassing the town gates, and heading straight into the dense, overgrown forest north of the lake.

The woods were alive with natural sounds. Birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind. But as they closed the three-mile gap, the smell of cheap, burning fuel and roasting meat filled the air.

They approached the edge of a large clearing.

Sebastian crouched behind a thick oak tree, peering through the brush. Wraith melted into the shadows beside him, completely silent.

In the center of the clearing, a massive, jagged rift of violent red light was slowly closing in the air. Beneath it, a group of fifteen massive, heavily scarred men were setting up a crude camp. They wore mismatched, rusted plate armor and carried massive, crude weapons—giant axes, spiked clubs, and heavy crossbows.

They looked like classic, brutal Outer Warlord scavengers who had relied entirely on their high stats to bully weaker players.

In the center of the camp, they had strung up a massive, mutated wild boar over a roaring fire. The boar was squealing in agony, still alive as the flames licked its thick hide.

"Look at this place," the leader of the scavengers laughed. He was a hulking brute with a bald head covered in tribal tattoos, carrying a massive, double-bladed axe. "The air is so clean! No toxic smog! The rumors were true. Earth is a paradise. Once we butcher whoever runs this little town, we’ll be kings!"

"They don’t even have automated defenses," another scavenger sneered, kicking the screaming boar. "The Anomaly who broke the System is probably dead. And if he isn’t, we’ll crush his skull and take his loot!"

Sebastian watched from behind the tree. He took another sip of his coffee from the thermos. He screwed the lid back on and set it gently in the grass.

"Boss?" Wraith whispered, his eyes locked on the leader. "Do we flank them?"

"No," Sebastian said calmly. "We don’t hide. We make a point."

Sebastian stepped out from behind the oak tree. He didn’t draw his sword. He just walked casually into the open clearing, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.

*Crunch. Crunch.*

The sound of his boots stepping on dry branches echoed in the clearing.

The fifteen scavengers froze. They turned, raising their massive weapons, staring at the lone man walking toward their camp.

"Who the fuck are you?" the bald leader demanded, hefting his giant axe over his shoulder. He looked Sebastian up and down, sneering at the gray t-shirt and sweatpants. "You lost, peasant? Where’s your armor? Where’s your UI?"

"I turned it off," Sebastian said, stopping about twenty feet away from the group. "It was giving me a headache. Just like you guys are giving me a headache right now."

The scavengers erupted into cruel, mocking laughter.

"Are you the welcoming committee?" a scavenger with a spiked club chuckled, stepping forward. "Listen, string bean. We’re claiming this territory. If you know where the Anomaly is hiding, tell us, and maybe we won’t skin you alive."

Sebastian tilted his head slightly. He looked at the screaming boar roasting over the fire, and then looked back at the leader.

"I’m the Anomaly," Sebastian said flatly. "And you’re trespassing on my lawn."

The laughter instantly died. The bald leader narrowed his eyes, gripping his axe tighter. He didn’t sense any magical aura. He didn’t see any glowing admin codes. He just saw a guy in pajamas.

"You?" the leader scoffed, spitting on the grass. "You don’t look like a god. You look like a joke. Kill him."

Three scavengers charged forward, roaring like feral animals.

They were fast, fueled by adrenaline, but they were incredibly sloppy. They were used to relying on the System’s automated attack animations to correct their aim.

Sebastian didn’t flinch. He didn’t draw his sword.

The first scavenger swung a heavy iron mace directly at Sebastian’s head.

*SWOOSH!*

Sebastian merely tilted his head an inch to the left. The mace sailed harmlessly past his ear. Before the scavenger could recover his balance, Sebastian’s right hand shot out like a striking viper.

He didn’t punch. He grabbed the scavenger by the throat.

His thirty-percent physical synchronization flared. His biological steel muscles coiled. Sebastian didn’t use a skill. He just squeezed.

*CRUNCH!*

The scavenger’s windpipe and cervical spine completely shattered under the impossible grip. The man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blood instantly pouring from his mouth. Sebastian casually tossed the dead body aside like a discarded ragdoll. *THUD.*

The camp went completely silent.

The remaining two charging scavengers froze in their tracks, staring at their dead comrade in absolute, paralyzed horror.

"What’s wrong?" Sebastian asked, his voice dropping into a dark, echoing hum that made the very air vibrate. "Did you forget how physics works without your stat sheet?"

The second scavenger panicked, wildly thrusting a spear toward Sebastian’s chest.

Sebastian stepped into the thrust. He slapped the wooden shaft of the spear aside with his left forearm, breaking the wood in half with a loud *SNAP*. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, driving his heavy combat boot directly into the scavenger’s knee.

*KRA-CRACK!*

The joint completely buckled backward, snapping with a sickening, wet pop. The scavenger screamed in agony, collapsing to the ground.

Sebastian didn’t stop. He pivoted on his heel and delivered a brutal, spinning backfist directly to the third scavenger’s face.

*SQUELCH!*

The impact pulverized the man’s nose and shattered his jaw into a dozen pieces. The scavenger flew backward through the air, crashing violently into the burning campfire and knocking the roasting boar into the dirt.

The bald leader watched his three best men get absolutely dismantled in less than five seconds. Pure, unadulterated terror washed over his tattooed face. He realized he wasn’t fighting a man. He was fighting a biological monster.

"Shoot him!" the leader shrieked, backing away. "Shoot him!"

Four scavengers raised heavy crossbows, pulling the triggers.

*THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!*

Heavy iron bolts tore through the air.

Sebastian finally moved his right hand toward his back. He drew the heavy iron broadsword in a smooth, blindingly fast arc.

*CLANG! CLANG!*

He didn’t dodge the bolts. He parried them out of the air using raw, hyper-optimized physical reflexes. The iron bolts shattered against his blade, raining useless wooden splinters onto the grass.

"My turn," Sebastian whispered.

He sprinted forward. The ground literally shook beneath his heavy boots.

He waded into the remaining scavengers like a blender made of raw meat and steel. He didn’t use flashy magic. It was raw, visceral, unflinching butchery.

He swung the broadsword, cleanly severing a man’s arm at the shoulder. Blood sprayed in a massive, bright red arc across the clearing. *SHHHK!* He drove the pommel of his sword directly into another scavenger’s face, caving in the skull with a sickening crunch. He grabbed a third man by his rusted breastplate and physically hurled him twenty feet into the air, letting him crash into a massive oak tree with bone-shattering force.