Chapter 129: A Demanding Hero

Its heavy footsteps shook the ground as it rushed toward Cassandra, raising one clawed hand to strike. The blow came down with enough force to damage the road, but Cassandra stepped aside at the last moment. The troll’s claws struck the asphalt, scattering fragments across the street.

Before it could recover, Cassandra drove her shoulder into its torso.

The impact sent both the troll and Rico flying backward. They crashed into a parked vehicle with a tremendous bang, crushing part of its side and sending its alarm blaring into the night.

Rico rolled across the damaged bonnet before dropping onto the road. He groaned and pushed himself upright, visibly stunned by the force of the collision.

"What kind of strength is that?"

Cassandra did not answer.

She approached the parked vehicle, gripped its damaged frame, and lifted it with both hands. The metal creaked under the pressure as she raised it above the troll, which was struggling to regain its footing.

Rico’s eyes widened.

"Wait! Don’t you dare!"

Cassandra brought the vehicle down.

The impact struck the troll with overwhelming force, pinning it beneath the wreckage. Metal buckled, glass shattered, and dust rose into the air. The creature struggled briefly before its body dissolved into a surge of mana, returning to its owner’s soul space.

Rico stared at the empty space where his summon had been.

For a moment, he seemed unable to understand what had happened.

Then he realized that Cassandra was turning toward him.

"No, no, no. This is bad."

He scrambled to his feet and attempted to retreat, hoping to find an opening between the damaged vehicles. His earlier confidence had vanished, replaced by the desperate determination of someone who had finally recognized the danger he was facing.

"I can’t let this happen," he muttered. "I need to finish the job before I fail the boss."

He had barely taken several steps when Cassandra closed the distance between them.

Her powerful kick struck him squarely and sent him rolling across the road. He tumbled several times before finally coming to a stop near the roadside barrier. His attempt to escape ended there, and his consciousness faded before he could make another move.

Cassandra looked down at him briefly before turning back toward the remaining fight.

Meanwhile, Penthesilea had already entered the thick of the battle.

Her metallic form spread across her body, covering her powerful limbs and torso with hardened grey metal. The protection reinforced her durability and allowed her to withstand attacks that would have seriously injured an ordinary fighter. At fourteen feet tall, she also possessed an enormous advantage in reach and physical strength, forcing her opponents to work together if they hoped to overcome her.

The caracal struck first, slashing toward her with its claws.

Penthesilea raised her arm and blocked the attack. Sparks flickered where the creature’s claws scraped against her metallic protection, and the impact produced a sharp sound that echoed across the road.

She seized the opportunity and grabbed the creature by its upper body.

"You’re quicker than you look," she remarked. "But not quick enough."

With a powerful movement, she swung the caracal sideways and slammed it against a nearby wall.

The impact shook the structure. Cracks spread across the surface, and a section of the wall crumbled around the creature as it fell into a heap of broken material.

Rita’s eyes widened.

"Hey! Get your hands off my summon!"

She rushed forward, her enhanced speed allowing her to close the distance in a matter of seconds. Her claws flashed toward Penthesilea’s side, aiming for an opening between the hardened sections of armour.

Penthesilea turned to face her.

Rita managed to land a glancing strike, but the metallic protection absorbed much of the attack. Before Rita could withdraw, Penthesilea stepped forward and delivered a brutal punch.

The blow struck Rita with enough force to throw her backward. She landed heavily on the road and slid across the asphalt before coming to a stop.

Her feline Echo flickered.

Rita tried to push herself upright, but her strength failed her. Her transformation dissolved into a brief shimmer of mana, and her caracal summon vanished from the ruined wall as its connection to its owner was automatically withdrawn.

Rita collapsed, unconscious.

Penthesilea lowered her fist and glanced at the fallen woman.

"That was foolish."

She turned toward Bronx, who had been watching the exchange with growing disbelief.

He had expected his companions to struggle against such an imposing opponent, but he had not anticipated seeing Rita defeated so quickly. The Amazon’s strength was far beyond what he had expected, and her metallic defence made it difficult to determine where he could land an effective attack.

Still, Bronx refused to surrender.

He thrust both hands forward, sending thick vines racing across the ground. The tendrils twisted around Penthesilea’s legs and climbed toward her waist, while smaller roots spread beneath the asphalt and tightened around her boots.

Penthesilea attempted to move, only to feel the restraints pulling tighter.

Bronx’s expression brightened.

"Got you!"

He pulled his hands apart, and the vines responded by wrapping around her arms and torso. Their thick, fibrous strands strained under the pressure, but they held her in place long enough for Bronx to prepare his next attack.

"Let’s see how you handle this!"

He tightened the restraints, drawing additional mana into the plant-like tendrils. Roots emerged from the cracks in the road and wound around Penthesilea’s lower body, creating a dense network of bindings designed to restrict her movement.

For a moment, Penthesilea remained trapped.

Then her expression changed.

The situation reminded her of the battle competition, when Victor had used his RootBear summon to restrain her with a similar technique. At the time, she had overcome the bindings through sheer strength, and she recognized that Bronx’s approach relied on the same basic principle.

The vines might have been strong, but they were not unbreakable.

Penthesilea drew a deep breath and tightened her muscles. The metallic protection covering her body pressed against the restraints, and the surrounding vines began to creak under the increasing strain.

Bronx frowned.

"What are you doing?"

Penthesilea gave him a cold look.

"Something you should have considered before attempting to restrain me."

With a powerful grunt, she tore her arms apart.

The vines snapped one after another, their broken strands whipping through the air. She twisted her body, ripped the roots from the asphalt, and forced the remaining bindings to loosen. The entire restraint system collapsed within moments, leaving Bronx staring at the broken remains of his carefully prepared trap.

"What? How did you break through that so easily?"

Penthesilea seized one of the remaining vines before Bronx could withdraw it. She pulled sharply, dragging the plant creature toward her with such force that it stumbled across the road.

Bronx’s eyes widened.

"Wait! Let go!"

Penthesilea ignored him and continued pulling until the creature was close enough for her to strike. She drew back her fist, preparing to deliver a finishing blow that would force the summon back into its owner’s soul space.

Bronx immediately tried to release the vine, but the sudden loss of control left him off balance.

Then he felt something behind him.

A shadow fell across the road, accompanied by a powerful presence that made the air seem heavier. Bronx slowly turned his head, and his body froze when he saw Cassandra standing directly behind him.

Her enormous figure blocked the light from the nearby streetlamp, while her glowing eyes remained fixed on him.

Bronx swallowed hard.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

Cassandra tilted her head.

"You seem surprised."

Bronx attempted to step away, but his legs refused to move immediately. The sight of Rico’s defeat and Rita’s unconscious body had already weakened his confidence. Now, with another towering opponent standing behind him, he finally understood how badly their situation had deteriorated.

"Look," he began, raising his hands slightly. "Maybe we can talk about this."

Cassandra took one deliberate step forward.

"You had your opportunity to leave peacefully."

"We didn’t know you were going to attack us!"

"You were carrying stolen goods."

Bronx’s expression faltered.

Cassandra continued, her voice calm but firm.

"You entered a facility that did not belong to you, stole valuable materials, and attempted to escape. What exactly did you expect to happen?"

Bronx glanced toward Penthesilea, who was still holding his plant summon by its vine.

"I expected to get paid."

"Then you should have chosen honest work."

He gritted his teeth and tried to summon enough mana to escape, but Cassandra was already moving.

Her decisive strike landed before he could complete the action. The powerful blow sent him sprawling across the road, and his plant Echo flickered as his concentration broke. Penthesilea released the vine, allowing the plant creature to dissolve into mana and return to its owner’s soul space.

Bronx struck the ground and remained motionless.

Within moments, the fight had ended.

Cassandra surveyed the scene, taking in the damaged vehicle, the fallen criminals, and the broken restraints scattered across the road. Penthesilea stood nearby, her metallic form still active as she looked toward the unconscious opponents with a warrior’s calm.

"That was easier than expected," Penthesilea remarked.

Cassandra glanced at her.

"They were relying too heavily on their summons."

"They were relying too heavily on everything."

Penthesilea dismissed her metallic form, allowing the hardened grey protection to recede from her body. She rolled one shoulder before looking toward the vehicle.

"At least the goods appear to be intact."

Cassandra followed her gaze.

"Most of them, perhaps. Mark will need to check."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Mark emerged from the shadows near a nearby building. He had been watching the confrontation from a rooftop, using his vantage point to observe the criminals’ movements and coordinate his summons. Now that the fight was over, he descended to the street and approached the wreckage.

His green hoodie concealed much of his appearance, and the white stripes running along its sleeves caught the light as he moved. He looked from the damaged vehicle to the three unconscious criminals, then toward his summons.

"Nice work, both of you."

Penthesilea inclined her head.

"Your instructions were clear, dear Prince."

Cassandra gave him a brief nod.

"The road was clear until they arrived. Their own decisions brought them here."

Mark glanced at the cracked asphalt and the crushed parked vehicle.

"Well, I suppose we could have done this with a little less damage."

Penthesilea looked at the wreckage.

"They resisted."

"That’s one way of putting it."

Cassandra folded her arms.

"Would you have preferred that we let them escape?"

Mark shook his head.

"No. We did what we came here to do. I’m just hoping the owners of these vehicles don’t make me pay for the repairs."

Penthesilea gave him a faint smile.

"You are a demanding master, dear Prince."

Mark looked at her.

"And you’re a very expensive summon when you start breaking things."

She laughed softly, apparently pleased by the exchange.

Mark turned toward the stolen goods and began inspecting the packages that had fallen from the damaged trunk. Most were still intact, although a few had been knocked out of place during the impact. He carefully checked their contents against the information he had gathered about the reported theft, making sure that nothing had been left behind.

The work took longer than he had hoped, but he eventually managed to gather the recovered valuables into two large bags. With the help of his summons, he transported the items away from the roadside, leaving the unconscious criminals behind for the appropriate authorities to collect.

He did not remain at the scene to celebrate.

There was still a job to finish.

---

Later, back at the assaulted facility, the workers were searching the surrounding rooms and corridors for any clue that might help them locate the criminals. The discovery of the break-in had thrown the building into confusion. Several storage containers had been opened, security equipment had been damaged, and valuable materials had disappeared from their designated locations.

The staff had already contacted the authorities, but they had no clear information about the criminals’ identities or their escape route. Some workers checked the storage rooms for missing items, while others examined the damaged security equipment and attempted to determine how the intruders had entered the facility without being detected.

At the reception area, a woman stood behind the counter with a worried expression. She had been responsible for recording several of the stored materials, and the disappearance of the valuable items had left her concerned about the consequences.

"If we can’t recover everything," she said to a nearby colleague, "we’ll have to explain how they managed to get past our security."

Her colleague rubbed his forehead.

"We don’t even know how they got in. The system should have detected them."

"Then something must have happened to it."

"That’s what we’re trying to find out."

The woman looked toward the entrance, hoping that the authorities might arrive with useful information. Instead, the doors opened, and a young man wearing a green hoodie with white stripes along the sleeves stepped inside.

His hood concealed much of his face, making it difficult to identify him. He carried two large bags, one in each hand, and walked toward the reception counter without showing any sign of hesitation.

The workers noticed him almost immediately.

One of them stepped away from a nearby storage area.

"Excuse me. Can we help you?"

Mark continued toward the counter.

The woman behind it watched him cautiously. His appearance was unusual, and the timing of his arrival made her wonder whether he had come to report something related to the incident.

"Sir, this facility is currently dealing with a security breach," she explained. "If you’re here for business, you’ll need to wait until the authorities have finished their investigation."

Mark stopped in front of the counter.

"That’s convenient," he replied. "Because I’m here to help with that."

Before the woman could ask what he meant, he lowered both bags onto the counter.

The heavy packages landed with a solid thud, causing her to step back in surprise. Mark loosened the fastenings and opened the bags, revealing the recovered valuables packed carefully inside.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

The woman stared at the contents, her eyes widening as she recognized several of the missing items. A worker standing nearby leaned forward, examining the packages with growing disbelief.

"Wait," he exclaimed. "Those are ours!"

Another worker hurried toward the counter.

"How did you get them?"

The woman carefully examined the recovered materials, checking their markings and protective containers. The items matched the descriptions of the missing valuables, and the crystal-bearing objects were still intact. Relief gradually replaced the shock on her face as she realized that the facility’s stolen property had been returned.

"Oh, thank goodness," she whispered. "They’re all here."

Mark rested his hands on the counter and leaned forward slightly.

"Your theft has been handled with clear justice," he said. "The people responsible won’t be coming back to steal from you anytime soon."

The woman looked up at him, still trying to understand what she was hearing.

"You found the criminals?"

"Let’s just say they’re no longer in a position to cause trouble."

"But how did you manage to recover everything? The authorities haven’t even given us an update yet."

Mark tilted his head.

"Perhaps I was more interested in solving the problem than waiting for someone else to do it."

The workers exchanged bewildered glances. They had expected to spend hours documenting the losses and waiting for investigators to arrive, not to have their stolen property returned by a mysterious young man carrying two bags.

The woman drew a breath and straightened behind the counter.

"Sir, we really appreciate what you’ve done. You’ve saved us a great deal of trouble. If there’s anything we can do to thank you, please tell us."

Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly beneath the shadow of his hood.

"Anything?"

She nodded cautiously.

"If it’s within our authority, of course."

Mark smiled.

"Good. Because I don’t do things for free, just so you know."

The woman blinked.

One of the workers looked at him with renewed suspicion, while another glanced at the bags as though he expected Mark to take them back.

Mark raised one hand in reassurance.

"Relax. I’m not asking you to hand over the valuables again. They’re yours. I simply believe that recovering stolen property deserves a proper reward."

The woman hesitated before responding.

"I understand. But the amount would have to be approved by our management. We can’t make that decision at the reception desk."

"Then contact whoever can approve it."

She glanced at her colleague, who immediately began reaching for the communication device on the counter.

"Of course. We’ll notify the facility manager and explain what happened."

Mark nodded approvingly.

"Excellent. I knew we could come to an understanding."

The woman looked at him more closely, trying to make out his face beneath the hood.