Chapter 38: New Skills and Rounding Up Prisoners

John stared at the blue holographic text with genuine surprise.

Until now, his system had been entirely focused on modern military logistics, hardware summons, and tactical personnel. At the end of the day, despite commanding warships, fighter jets, and elite special forces, John was still a regular human being with baseline physical vulnerabilities. If an enemy otherworlder with high-tier cheat skills ambushed him in close quarters without his body armor or security escort, a clean strike could still kill him.

Having an innate movement cheat changed the entire dynamic.

"Let’s see how this works," John murmured.

Focusing on the new skill in his interface, John willed it to activate.

SWOOSH!

His body dissolved into a faint wisp of dark purple mist. In the blink of an eye, he completely vanished from the edge of the crater and materialized instantly thirty meters away, standing smoothly behind a shattered stone wall without making a single sound.

Immediately, a small red timer icon popped up in the lower corner of his HUD:

[Shadow Step: Cooldown — 00:29... 00:28...]

"A thirty-second cooldown at level one," John noted to himself, watching the timer tick down. "In a high-intensity firefight or against multiple skill-users, half a minute is an eternity."

The four Delta Force operators, who had been maintaining a rigid 360-degree security perimeter, whipped their rifles around in shock before realizing it was their commander standing thirty meters out.

Lowering their weapons, the operators looked at each other in disbelief. The team lead let out a low whistle before lightly clapping his gloved hands.

"Damn, boss," the team leader said with a grin behind his tactical balaclava. "Didn’t know you had teleportation in your kit. That’s one hell of an evasive maneuver."

"Gives high-speed insertion a whole new meaning, sir," another operator added, clapping along with a chuckle.

John offered a faint smirk, walking back toward the team. There was no mana drain or loss of balance, and the skill felt completely natural. But that thirty-second delay needed fixing immediately.

He reopened the holographic status menu and tapped directly into the skill tree.

[Skill: Shadow Step (Rank B) — Current Level: 1 / 5]

[Current Stats: Max Distance: 30 meters | Cooldown: 30 seconds]

[Upgrade Cost: 5,000 System Points per Level]

[Upgrade to Level 5? (Total Cost: 20,000 SP)]

[Deducting 20,000 System Points...]

[Shadow Step has been upgraded to Level 5 (Maxed)!]

[Maximum teleportation distance increased from 30 meters to 150 meters.]

[Cooldown reduced from 30 seconds to 5 seconds.]

The system interface refreshed smoothly:

[Host: John Smith

Level: 60

Cumulative Experience: 590,000 / 2,600,000

Souls: 1,325.

System Points: 1,590,550 SP

Skills:

Marksmanship - Level 5 / 5 (Maxed)

Hand-to-Hand Combat / CQC - Level 5 / 5 (Maxed)

Tactical Awareness & Command - Level 5 / 5 (Maxed)

Shadow Step - Level 5 / 5 (Maxed)]

John felt the spatial awareness around him expand dramatically. With a single thought, he could now instantly blink anywhere within a one-hundred-and-fifty-meter radius, slip through solid obstacles, and re-engage the skill every five seconds.

He holstered his Desert Eagle and brought his SCAR-H back to a low-ready stance.

"Alright, show’s over," John ordered, turning toward the center of the settlement. "Delta elements, let’s head to the town square. It’s time to secure the beachhead and see what’s left of the locals."

The MH-60M Black Hawk lifted off once more, carrying John and his four-man Delta security element back toward the center of the settlement.

Through the open cabin door, John leaned out against his safety harness and looked down at the sprawling shoreline below.

The battle was entirely over. What was left of the proud Solarian invasion fleet burned along the surf, sending thick pillars of black smoke drifting into the late afternoon sky. Down on the blood-soaked sand and across the cobblestone roads of the harbor square, the imperial forces had been thoroughly broken.

Hundreds of surviving human infantry, spearmen, and crossbowmen were forced onto their knees in long, orderly rows. Their weapons—swords, polearms, matchlocks, and shields—were piled up in massive heaps under the watchful barrels of American soldiers.

Every captured soldier had their hands clasped tightly behind their heads, trembling in complete terror as squads of US mechanized infantry and Delta operators swept through the lines with raised M4A1 carbines and suppressed SCARs, maintaining absolute control over the beachhead.

The helicopter flared its nose and touched down smoothly near the edge of the shattered market square.

John unclipped his harness, hopped down onto the gravel, and walked toward the primary holding area, his combat boots crunching against the ash-covered dirt.

"Commander on deck!" a Delta operator called out.

The soldiers snapped to attention, clearing a direct path for John as he approached the front of the square.

Gathered under heavy guard near the wreckage of an overturned supply wagon was the imperial command group. Surrounded by armed operators stood Grand Inquisitor Lord Valerius and Father Corvin, along with a handful of high-ranking knights. Their polished armor and immaculate vestments were now coated in soot, dirt, and blood.

Unlike the common soldiers who were trembling on their knees, Valerius and the battle-priest were standing stiffly, glaring at the surrounding US operators with arrogant indignation.

"Savages! Heretics!" Corvin spat, clutching his golden sun amulet with shaking, bloodstained fingers. "You dare lay hands upon the ordained clergy of the Holy Solarian Empire?! We are the chosen emissaries of the Radiant Goddess Viona! Release us this instant, or the heavens will strike down your metal abominations!"

Valerius sneered with equal disdain, crossing his gilded gauntlets over his chest. "I am Grand Inquisitor Lord Valerius! I answer only to the Emperor and the High Pontiff! I will not kneel to common foot soldiers and sorcerers who hide behind cursed machines!"

A Delta operator standing behind the arrogant Inquisitor didn’t even blink.

Stepping forward with chilling efficiency, the operator drove the heavy polymer buttstock of his rifle violently into Valerius’s solar plexus.

THUD!

"GURK—!"

The breath was brutally forced from the Inquisitor’s lungs in a wet gasp. The concussive blow bypassed his gilded plate, sending a shockwave straight through his diaphragm. Valerius’s eyes bugged out in shock and agony as his knees completely buckled, slamming him hard onto the dirt face-first before the operator planted a combat boot firmly on his shoulder blades, forcing his head into the sand.

"Shut your mouth and stay down," the operator barked coldly, racking his bolt.

Father Corvin went completely pale, his fanatical screaming instantly dying in his throat as he dropped to his knees voluntarily, terrified of receiving the same treatment.

John stopped just three paces away from the groveling imperial leaders, resting the muzzle of his SCAR-H downward at a relaxed low-ready. He looked down at the Inquisitor with cold, unimpressed blue eyes.

"You talked a lot about divine supremacy when you were slaughtering unarmed locals," John said calmly, his voice slicing right through the quiet tension of the square.

The two looked up to him and their eyes widened.

"You..!"