Chapter 138 Hidden Master
FlameDancer's eyes widened as she watched Eric move. She felt an immense pressure, a palpable aura of death that clung to him like a shroud.
She had been aware of his presence from the moment he arrived.
However, his movements were characterised by an inhumane swiftness, fluidity, and precision, which rendered them seemingly illusory. It wasn't until the Swordsman captain lay dead at his feet that the reality of the situation truly sank in, leaving her in stunned silence.
From the first Priest falling to the demise of the Swordsman captain, barely five seconds had passed. Eric moved like a phantom, a whisper of death that left a trail of bodies in his wake. Each swing of his blade was a symphony of lethal grace, blood splattering like crimson paint against the backdrop of the forest. It was easy to mistake him for a monster, a creature of nightmare-given form.
What snapped FlameDancer out of her daze was the sound of Eric's voice, low and cold, as he addressed the Swordsman captain. He was no monster but a player.
But if he was a player, what manner of player was he? What kind of attributes could grant such terrifying power?
Eric himself felt no surprise at his own actions. These players were nothing to him, their attributes less than half of his own.
Virtual games were a cruel mistress. The difference between levels, the accumulation of attributes, might seem insignificant at first glance. But those incremental gains, compounded over time, created a chasm of power, a gulf that separated the strong from the weak.
"Run! It's a monster!"
"I'm done for! This thing is going to kill us all!"
Despite knowing it was just a game, the five remaining Martial Alliance players were consumed by terror. Their hearts hammered against their ribs, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Their captain, their strongest fighter, had been slaughtered like a lamb. This was no ordinary opponent, no foe they could hope to overcome. Their only hope lay in escape, in regrouping with their comrades. Only then could they hope to find some semblance of safety in numbers.
"Trying to run? You're too late."
Eric initiated Zephyr Stride, propelling his form forward with alacrity, akin to an arrow released from astringent bowstring. The interval between them diminished in the span of a moment, as the retreating Assassin found himself encroached upon with astonishing swiftness. The Assassin, his blood turning to ice, tried to turn and fight, but Eric was too fast. The Abyssal Blade flashed, three shadows of the blade striking the Assassin's vital points with chilling precision. The Assassin crumpled to the ground, his escape cut tragically short.
The sight of their agile comrade, unable to even raise his blade in defense, sent a fresh wave of terror through the remaining four.
They bolted, their legs churning, desperate to outrun the specter of death that hounded them.
But it was futile. Eric stalked them relentlessly, the gap between them shrinking with every stride. His pitch-black blade, a grim harbinger of their doom, seemed to hover just out of reach, poised to claim their lives with a single, effortless swing.
One by one, they fell, their desperate attempts at escape proving utterly meaningless against Eric's overwhelming speed. The forest floor became a canvas for their fear, painted in shades of crimson and despair.
With the last of his pursuers dealt with, Eric turned his attention to the spoils of battle.
These Martial Alliance players were well-equipped, their gear a testament to their status within the guild. Most of it was level four or five Bronze Equipment, with a few pieces of Dark Iron Equipment scattered amongst the loot. Each player had dropped at least one piece of gear upon death.
Eighteen corpses meant eighteen pieces of valuable equipment, a small fortune if sold on the market.
As Eric gathered the loot, FlameDancer, her heart still pounding in her chest, forced herself to approach him. She offered a shaky bow, her voice barely a whisper. "My name is FlameDancer. Thank you for saving our lives."
She had been prepared to die, resigned to her fate.
The sudden appearance of this mysterious savior, this angel of death who had single-handedly decimated their attackers, was nothing short of a miracle.
Part of her worried that he might turn on them, that their equipment might be the next target of his wrath. But his actions spoke louder than her fears. If he had meant them harm, he would have struck them down alongside the Martial Alliance captain.
"No need for thanks. They were after me, not you. You should leave, all of you. It's not safe here. More of them are on their way." Eric's voice was low and even as he continued to gather the scattered equipment.
He had saved them on a whim, a small act of kindness to repay FlameDancer for her own efforts against the Martial Alliance.
FlameDancer stared at him, her eyes wide and luminous, her heart pounding in her chest.
"You... You're Kai Blackthorn?" She could barely contain the disbelief in her voice.
She had come to Tempest Canyon because of him, drawn by rumors of the Martial Alliance targeting his teammates. She had hoped to offer her assistance, perhaps even catch a glimpse of the legendary player himself.
Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would be saved by him, that fate would bring them together in such a dramatic fashion.
Was this destiny?
A faint blush warmed her cheeks as the thought crossed her mind. She chastised herself for her foolishness. Why was she thinking such things?
"Yes, I am Kai Blackthorn. Do we know each other?" Eric looked at her, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He was certain he had never met this striking woman before, yet she spoke as if they were acquainted.
Beside them, AquaBison, the Berserker, gaped at Eric, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and awe. He had heard FlameDancer's whispered words, and a wave of excitement washed over him. This was Kai Blackthorn, the legendary player, FlameDancer's idol!
He had always been skeptical of Eric's fame, dismissing it as hype and exaggeration.
Now, he was a believer.
There was no denying the skill and raw power that Eric displayed. To single-handedly dismantle an elite Martial Alliance squad that had brought their own team to its knees... It was a feat beyond anything he could have imagined. Shock gave way to admiration, a grudging respect for the man who had earned his legendary status.
No wonder FlameDancer idolized him.
"Eric, you see, FlameDancer is actually your..." AquaBison's words were cut short by a swift stomp to his foot, courtesy of FlameDancer. He winced, biting back a yelp of pain. The murderous look in FlameDancer's eyes told him to keep his mouth shut, and he wisely chose to heed the unspoken warning.
"My what?" Eric was now even more confused.
"It's nothing. AquaBison is just being silly." FlameDancer shook her head, her cheeks still flushed. "Eric, aren't you coming with us? It's really not safe here. The Martial Alliance has over two hundred players in the area, and they're surrounding this entire canyon. They have several powerful level 9 players with them, all equipped with Dark Iron gear. They've already killed a lot of our teammates. If they surround you, you won't be able to escape. You have to leave now, while you still can."
If it hadn't been for those high-level players, her team wouldn't have suffered such heavy losses or have been hunted like prey.
"Level 9 players?" Eric's eyebrows rose slightly.
Level 9 players were the elite of the elite in Willowbrook Town. The fact that the Martial Alliance had several of them at their disposal was concerning.
But level 9 or not, they were still just players.
If they wanted to test their mettle against him, he would be happy to oblige. He had a sword to bloody, after all.
"You should go. I'll stay and see what these so-called experts are made of." A small smile played on Eric's lips. He was actually looking forward to this.
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