Lack of Control.
Elara's new body was S-Rank. Her agility stats were in the hundreds. Her brain, however, was used to F-Rank speed.
She meant to dash five feet.
She dashed fifty.
ZHOOM!
She moved so fast she turned into a golden blur. She completely overshot the Goblins, missing them entirely, and slammed face-first into the cavern wall on the other side.
CRACK!
"Ow!" Elara yelped, sliding down the wall. If she hadn't had High-Grade Pain Nullification and enhanced durability, she would have broken her neck. As it was, she just shook her head, dizzy.
The Goblins paused, confused, looking at the crazy cat-woman who just tackled a wall. Then, they turned their attention to the frozen human girl.
Three Goblins leaped at Seraphina, raising their rusted clubs.
"No! Get away!" Seraphina shrieked.
She threw her hands out in panic. She wanted to cast a simple [Mana Push] to knock them back. A Rank-F spell.
But she wasn't Rank-F anymore. She was a conduit for the Void.
Instead of a gentle push, a massive, distorted wave of Gravity Magic exploded from her palms.
BOOOOM!
The recoil was instantaneous. Seraphina was thrown backward off her feet, landing hard on her butt.
The spell didn't just push the Goblins. It obliterated the floor in front of her. Rocks shattered. Dust filled the air. But because she had closed her eyes and screamed, she missed the targets. The blast hit the wall to the left of the Goblins, causing a minor cave-in.
The Goblins, unharmed but covered in dust, looked at each other. They realized these women were powerful but clumsy.
They grinned. The fear left the Goblins. They sensed an easy kill.
"Kiiiyaaa!"
One Goblin lunged at Seraphina while she was on the ground, swinging a jagged knife toward her throat.
Time seemed to slow down for Seraphina. She saw the rusted blade coming down. She saw the Goblin's yellow, plaque-covered teeth.
'I'm going to die,' she thought. 'I'm going to die just like this. Useless. Zero will come in, find my corpse, and realize I was trash after all'
NO.
The thought of disappointing Lysander hurt more than the fear of death.
'I am his Void Empress. I belong to him. You filthy thing... you dare touch me?'
Something cold and dark snapped in her mind.
Seraphina didn't scream this time. She glared.
VOID GAZE
Her violet eyes flashed.
The Goblin froze in mid-air. It felt like an invisible hand had wrapped around its heart. It couldn't breathe. It couldn't move.
Seraphina raised her hand. She didn't use a spell she learned in a book. She let the Bloodline take over.
"Crush," she whispered.
She clenched her fist.
SQUELCH.
Space twisted around the Goblin. There was a sickening sound of wet crunching. The Goblin didn't even scream. Its body was instantly compressed into a ball of meat and bone the size of a basketball.
It dropped to the floor with a wet thud.
The other Goblins stopped, their eyes popping out of their heads.
On the other side of the room, Elara shook the dizziness from her head. She saw the Goblin try to stab Seraphina. She saw Seraphina crush it.
"She... she got one," Elara growled, her pride stinging. "She got the first kill!"
A Goblin turned toward Elara, hissing.
Elara stood up. She took a deep breath.
'Don't run,' she told herself. 'Don't rush. You are the wind. You are the sun'
She looked at her claws. They were long, black, and sharper than any sword.
The Goblin charged.
This time, Elara didn't sprint blindly. She watched the Goblin's movement. It was... slow. To her new eyes, the Goblin looked like it was moving through molasses.
'Is this... is this how Lord Zero sees the world?'
She smirked.
The Goblin swung its club.
Elara didn't dodge. She simply tilted her head to the left. The club passed harmlessly by her ear.
"Too slow," Elara whispered.
SWISH.
She swung her right hand.
There was no resistance. It felt like cutting through water.
Elara stood up straight and walked past the Goblin.
For a second, nothing happened. The Goblin stood there, confused.
Then, a thin red line appeared on its neck.
SPLAT.
The Goblin's head slid off its shoulders and rolled onto the floor. A fountain of green blood sprayed the wall.
Elara looked at her blood-stained claws. A shiver of pleasure ran up her spine. It wasn't fear anymore. It was power.
"I am strong," she whispered. A savage grin spread across her face, revealing her fangs.
"I am strong!"
She turned to the remaining four Goblins.
Seraphina stood up, dusting off her tunic. She looked at the ball of meat that used to be a Goblin. She looked at her hands, the violet energy swirling obediently now.
"I don't need to be afraid," Seraphina realized, her eyes glowing. "They are the ones who should be afraid"
The four remaining Goblins dropped their weapons. They were stupid, but they weren't suicidal. They turned to run.
"Oh no," Elara purred, crouching low like a lioness preparing to pounce. "Nobody leaves"
"Agreed," Seraphina said cold, raising both hands. Gravity in the room began to intensify, making the Goblins fall to their knees, unable to run.
The cavern filled with screams, but this time, they weren't human.
Outside the damp cave, the air was silent.
Lysander leaned against the trunk of an ancient pine tree, his arms crossed. At his waist hung the Twin-Star Mana Revolvers.
To Lysander, they were tactical semi-automatic magnums.
To the people of this world, they were impossible objects.
The black metal was smoother than any dwarven steel, absorbing the light around it. The barrels were etched with violet runic lines that pulsed with a soft, rhythmic heartbeat of mana. They didn't look like swords, bows, or wands. They looked like pieces of lost ancient technology.
Crunch. Snap.
The bushes rustled, and the Iron Vipers emerged.
[ENTITIES DETECTED: 5 ADVENTURERS RANK C]
The three men—Vargas (Warrior), Jace (Rogue), and Torr (Spearman)—walked in front, laughing loudly. The two women—Mara (Mage) and Elise (Healer)—trailed behind, looking exhausted and checking their map.
Vargas stopped mid-laugh when he saw the lone figure guarding the F-Rank dungeon.
"Hah," Vargas smirked. "Look at that. A lone guy standing guard at a Goblin cave? What is he, a beggar waiting for scraps?"
"Ignore him," Mara said from the back. "We have a schedule to keep"
But Jace, the rogue, didn't move. His eyes—trained to spot gold and treasure—locked onto Lysander's waist.
"Wait..." Jace whispered, squinting. "Look at his belt"
The other men looked. Their eyes widened.
They had never seen "guns" before. They didn't know what a trigger or a barrel was.
What they saw were two L-shaped artifacts made of a material that didn't exist in their kingdom. The objects glowed with a pure, concentrated violet mana that made their own enchanted swords look like cheap toys.
"What are those?" Torr muttered,
mesmerized by the sleek design. "Are they... short wands? Or maybe ceremonial scepters?"
"Look at the mana flowing through them," Vargas said, his voice dripping with greed.
"That's not common steel. That looks like Black Mythril or maybe even Dragon-Bone Metal"
"I've never seen a design like that in any shop," Jace licked his lips. "That craftsmanship... those must be relics from an Ancient Ruin. Just one of those could buy a mansion in the Capital"
The logic of the greedy took over instantly.
he artifacts looked legendary, easily worth thousands of Gold Coins.
The owner was standing alone in front of a Rank-F (Trash) Dungeon.
"Why does a nobody have treasures like that?" Vargas whispered, clutching his sword hilt. "He must be some lucky fool who found them by accident. Or maybe a weak noble flaunting his daddy's collection"
"He doesn't look like a fighter," Jace scoffed.
"He's just leaning there. Bet he doesn't even know how to use those things"
"Let's take them," Torr suggested, grinning.
"We sell them to the Black Market, and we retire"
"Are you three insane?"
Mara, the mage, stepped forward, her face pale. She sensed something the men didn't.
"Don't you see how calm he is?" Mara hissed, pointing at Lysander. "He is wearing a mask. He hasn't flinched. And those 'artifacts'... I don't recognize the magic signature. It feels... cold"
"So what?" Vargas waved her off. "It's five against one"
"We are here to hunt the Razor-Boar for our Rank Up mission," Elise the Healer added nervously. "We are not bandits. Let's just go"
"Shut up," Vargas snapped. "We're just going to make a trade. He gives us the shiny toys, and we let him live"
Ignoring the women's warnings, the three men approached Lysander. They fanned out, surrounding the tree.
Vargas stepped close, puffing out his chest to look intimidating. He eyed the strange black artifacts hungrily.
"Hey, friend," Vargas smirked, resting his hand on his sword. "You look a little lost. This is a dangerous forest"
Lysander didn't move. The red eyes of his mask stared straight ahead.