Chapter 74: Abyssal General

Chapter 74: Chapter 74: Abyssal General

Julian was bleeding.

The pristine white suit he had worn on national television was shredded, covered in black mud and his own blood. He stood near the base of the obsidian fortress, his hands raised, pouring every ounce of his Level 61 mana into a shimmering, dome-shaped Enchanter’s barrier.

Outside the barrier, the Capital’s elite twenty-man raid team was being systematically slaughtered.

"Form up! Shield wall!" Vane screamed, his aristocratic composure completely shattered.

But his men weren’t listening. The Dragonheart A-Ranks were used to fighting feral, predictable dungeon monsters. They were not prepared for the Abyssal Legion.

A phalanx of heavily armored Orcs locked their iron shields together, advancing with terrifying, synchronized precision. Behind them, Dark Elven archers fired volleys of armor-piercing arrows coated in corrosive purple mana, whittling down the Dragonheart mercenaries.

Twelve of Vane’s men were already dead on the cavern floor. The remaining eight were backed against his cracking magical barrier, exhausted and terrified.

A massive, twelve-foot-tall Demonic Brute stepped through the Orc phalanx. It wielded a spiked iron pillar like a baseball bat. With a guttural roar, the brute swung the pillar directly into Vane’s barrier.

CRACK.

The A-Rank magical dome splintered like cheap glass. Vane dropped to one knee, coughing up blood as the magical feedback ruptured his internal pathways.

"We’re dead," a Dragonheart Vanguard whispered, dropping his heavy sword. "It’s an army. We’re all dead."

The Demonic Brute raised the iron pillar to deliver the killing blow.

It never fell.

A blinding, cataclysmic streak of sapphire and gold light dropped from the cavern ceiling like a tactical nuke.

Evelyn Vance hit the center of the Orc phalanx.

She didn’t use her sword. She used the terminal velocity of her S-Rank descent, channeling [Divine Pulse] entirely into her boots. The kinetic impact struck the cavern floor with the force of a localized earthquake.

The shockwave of pure holy fire vaporized the disciplined shield wall instantly. Thirty heavily armored Orcs were lifted entirely off their feet, their iron armor melting before they even hit the ground. The Demonic Brute was thrown violently backward, crashing through a row of black iron tents.

Julian Vane stared at the glowing crater in absolute disbelief.

Evelyn stood slowly from the center of the impact zone, her massive celestial wings unfurling to their full wingspan. She didn’t look back at Vane. She just drew the Bloodhound’s Fang, the silver blade humming with lethal intent. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Commanders!" an Orc captain screamed in the abyssal tongue from the rear ranks. "Re-form the lines! Target the anomaly!"

The captain didn’t get to issue a second order.

The shadow directly beneath his boots twisted. Sylvia materialized seamlessly from the darkness, her new tungsten daggers flashing in the dim light. She drove both blades perfectly through the gaps in the Orc’s iron collar, severing his spinal cord instantly.

Before the surrounding soldiers could even raise their weapons, Sylvia dropped back into a [Shadow Well], vanishing completely. Ten yards away, another Dark Elf commander silently collapsed, a tungsten blade having slipped perfectly through his ribs.

The command structure of the Abyssal Legion immediately began to fracture.

The Demonic Brute that Evelyn had knocked away scrambled back to its feet. It ignored the Valkyrie and locked its glowing red eyes on Julian Vane’s exposed flank, charging with terrifying speed.

"Look out!" Vane yelled, scrambling backward in the mud.

A blur of dark motion intercepted the giant.

Donald stepped into the path of the charging brute. He didn’t raise his golden shield. He didn’t even brace his footing.

Nyx detached from his shoulder. The winged black cat shot forward like a bullet. She didn’t attack the brute physically; she simply phased straight through the monster’s massive chest.

The brute stumbled, letting out a confused, rattling gasp as its legs suddenly gave out.

[Familiar (Nyx) engaged target: Abyssal Brute (Level 55).]

[Skill Triggered: Phantasmal Siphon.]

[Nyx has stolen: +24 Strength, +18 Stamina.]

[Transferring stats to Investor...]

Donald’s eyes widened behind his gold mask as the stolen stats flooded his system. His base 71 Strength violently skyrocketed to 95. The sheer physical density in his muscles felt like he could bench-press a commercial airliner.

The weakened brute swung its iron pillar down at him.

Donald didn’t dodge. He raised his left arm and caught the heavy iron pillar with his bare hand.

The kinetic force cracked the stone beneath Donald’s boots, but his arm didn’t buckle. He held the massive weapon in place effortlessly.

"My turn," Donald whispered.

He drove his right fist forward, the heavy titanium plating of the Thunderclap Pile Bunker slamming directly into the brute’s chest. He pulled the trigger.

BOOM.

The B-Rank compressed thunder core detonated at point-blank range. The concussive blast of blue lightning blew a hole clean through the brute’s torso. The massive monster was launched backward, tumbling end-over-end across the battlefield before crashing dead into the mud.

Donald slowly lowered his arm, venting a thin trail of blue smoke from the gauntlet. Nyx fluttered back to him, landing gracefully on his shoulder and purring loudly as the stolen stats hummed in his veins.

The remaining Abyssal soldiers, witnessing their commanders assassinated from the shadows and their heavy infantry annihilated by blinding light and lightning, finally broke. They turned and retreated behind the massive steel gates of the obsidian fortress, abandoning the encampment.

Silence fell over the cavern, broken only by the crackle of residual holy fire.

Evelyn let her wings fade, resting her silver sword on her shoulder. Sylvia materialized from the shadows near a ruined siege engine, elegantly wiping dark blood off her tungsten daggers.

Donald casually walked over to Julian Vane.

The Dragonheart Emissary was still on his knees in the mud. He stared at the three of them, his mouth opening and closing as his brain completely failed to process what he had just witnessed.

"You..." Vane stammered, looking up at Donald’s golden mask. "You took the Hollow Drop. You jumped down a two-mile vertical shaft."

"The elevator was broken," Donald said smoothly, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.

"This isn’t a dungeon," Vane gasped, pointing a shaking hand at the retreating army. "It’s a dimensional breach! It’s a warzone! The Capital didn’t know—"

"The Capital didn’t do its due diligence," Donald interrupted, his voice dropping into a cold, corporate chill. "You walked into a hostile market blind, Vane. And it cost you your assets."

Donald gestured to the dead Dragonheart mercenaries scattered across the mud.

Vane flushed with a mixture of humiliation and rage. He forced himself to stand, gripping his ruined white suit. "I still hold the Royal Charter, Investor! This domain belongs to Dragonheart!"

Donald pulled his burner phone from his pocket and tossed it into the mud at Vane’s feet.

"Check the Association registry, Julian," Donald said. "My secretary filed the paperwork twenty minutes ago. The Investment Guild officially invoked the Vanguard Clause. The Royal Charter is suspended until the boss is cleared."

Vane stared at the phone. "You’re insane. You can’t clear the boss. Look at that fortress! The commander inside is likely a Level 80 anomaly. We have to retreat. We have to call the Capital and request a Royal Army battalion."

"If you call the Capital, Genesis City gets put under martial law," Evelyn stated, stepping up beside Donald. Her blue eyes were burning with cold authority. "I’m not letting your armies occupy my city."

"You don’t have a choice!" Vane spat.

A massive, deafening horn blew from the obsidian fortress.

The heavy steel gates slowly began to grind open.

The air pressure in the cavern violently shifted. A suffocating, oppressive aura flooded the battlefield, so heavy that the remaining Dragonheart mercenaries fell to their knees, gasping for air. Even Sylvia took a step back, her violet eyes widening beneath her mask.

[WARNING: Extreme Threat Detected.]

[Target: Abyssal Vanguard General]

[Class: Dimensional Warlord (Level 85)]

A towering figure stepped out of the fortress gates. He was nine feet tall, clad in jagged, magma-forged plate armor. He didn’t carry a shield. He held a massive, two-handed executioner’s sword that dripped with liquid hellfire.

"Retreat!" Vane screamed, turning toward the Outer Spiral tunnel. "If you fight that thing, you will die!"

Donald didn’t look at Vane. He kept his eyes locked on the towering Warlord.

"Sylvia," Donald ordered calmly. "Take Vane and his surviving men to the tunnel. Keep them alive, but make sure they have a clear view."

Sylvia nodded. She melted into the shadows, reappearing behind the panicked Dragonheart survivors and shepherding them toward the exit path.

Donald looked at Evelyn. "Do you want the left side or the right?"

Evelyn smiled, a feral, blindingly bright expression crossing her face. She raised the Bloodhound’s Fang, pointing the tip directly at the towering General.

"I want the head," Evelyn declared.

"Done," Donald said.

He didn’t check his bank account. He didn’t need to. He tapped into the deep, heavy well of his newly acquired 78 Mana, feeling the temporary stats from Nyx still surging violently through his blood.

Donald and Evelyn stepped forward simultaneously, leaving the Capital elites cowering in the mud behind them.