Bendova's face drained of color as what appeared to be the grim reaper bore down on him, golden eyes gleaming from the depths of its hood, promising nothing but oblivion.
In a panicked scramble to stave off a fate similar to the one he endured before, the squealing Guildmaster unleashed a barrage of low-level fire spells, each one resembling a weak Magic Missile. But the Frost Drake's Fangs effortlessly cut through the projectiles as if they were no more than harmless leaves.
TISHHHHHH~
The flames dissolved into a smoky haze as they met the icy edges of the swords, casting a shroud over the battlefield. Bendova took advantage of the cover, slipping away to regroup. But before he could summon his allies, a sudden force hit him like a battering ram—Daisuke, swift and merciless, drove one sword deep into his chest and the other straight between his teeth.
WHAM!
The bastard's back slammed against a nearby tree, the blade piercing through the back of his skull, embedding itself in the trunk. Almost instantly, the Frostbite debuff sank in, icy tendrils spreading out from the wound. His eyes widened in sheer terror, while Daisuke's gaze sharpened with pure disdain.
He was done being used, done with being hunted, chased, and broken down. He was especially tired of being weak and feeling powerless. The taste of bitterness fueled him as he left the man pinned to the tree by the twin blades and drew his own daggers. With a snarl, his arms shot forward like bullets, delivering a ruthless flurry of stabs, each strike adding to the cascade of debuffs. By the time he was done, the man's form flickered and vanished, erased from existence.
Time slowed to a crawl.
The surrounding players stood frozen, their mouths agape as the vicious scenes played out before them. Emotions churned in the crowd—shock, disbelief, and a palpable edge of fear. Yet, the lure of victory and the promise of rewards from Haxks's forced confession held them in place, outweighing their instincts to flee. And their sheer advantage in numbers especially bolstered their resolve.
"Stand firm, everyone!" shouted one of the Men of Culture captains, rallying his guildmates. "No matter how powerful he is, he's still just one guy! He can't take all of us on his own—and sooner or later, he'll run out of stamina!"
Reassured by that logic, the players steadied themselves, weapons drawn and nerves steeled. A fierce battle cry erupted from their ranks as they charged forward in unison, each eye fixed intently on their mark, resolved to claim victory—or die trying.
Daisuke popped a handful of Etherberries into his mouth, feeling their energy course through him as he tore the dual blades from the tree, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent. Without a word, he chucked both a Poison Bomb and a Smokescreen onto the ground, letting the thick cloud roll out around him. Backed by Αφινίτη's Blessing and the last two minutes on his Shadow Veil skill, he melded into the darkness, his presence vanishing completely.
As the toxic miasma thickened and spread over the battlefield, the players tensed, weapons raised in defense, eyes scanning the dense smoke for any sign of movement. But within moments, their vision blurred, and the sharp sting of the poison began to take its toll.
Panic spread quickly as confusion gripped them—movements grew sluggish, and health bars began to plummet. Some fumbled desperately for antidotes. Every second lost in their disarray was another step toward their inevitable defeat—exactly as Daisuke had planned.
In an instant, he darted forward like a shadow in the haze, the Frost Drake's Twin Fangs gleaming coldly as he closed in on his first target. Daisuke's initial strike was swift—a slicing motion that severed the straps of his foe's chest plate. Before the player could even comprehend the loss of his armor, Daisuke spun low and delivered an upward slash across his chest, the icy blades leaving a trail of frost as the bastard stumbled back. Another flurry of fierce attacks had his HP dropping to zero and his body disintegrating.
Daisuke vanished again, zipping silently toward the next bastard who was struggling to keep his footing in the blinding mist. From behind, Daisuke raised one of his blades and thrust forward, piercing the player's back and twisting upward. The warrior let out a strangled gasp as the brutal attacks kept coming. His eyes bulged with shock, his body convulsing violently with each strike as his health dropped at a terrifying rate. The sword slipped from his hands as his body froze, veins turning a crystalline blue before his form shattered into shards.
Without a shred of remorse, the apostle of death looked around for his next target. Sixth Sense increased Critical Rate by attacking the enemy's weak points, and by extension, Critical Damage increased the chance of inflicting the Frostbite debuff. Daisuke swept across the battlefield like a cold specter, golden eyes burning with icy indifference as he dispatched countless souls to hell.
A burly player spotted him and charged with a yell, brandishing a spiked mace. Daisuke sidestepped the initial swing with a nimble pivot, his movements fluid and calculated. He brought one blade across the attacker's forearm, cutting deep enough to make the mace drop.
Taking advantage of the situation, he leaped up and kicked off the player's broad chest, launching himself into the air and spinning. With a fierce downward slash, he drove both daggers into the bastard's shoulders, sending him crashing to the ground.
[ViralPhantom: Yo, did you see those crits? Haxks is insane! 🔥
CritMaster3000: And here I thought my crits were lit 🫠🥲
GamerGal42: OMG, he just pulled off that combo like it was nothing! #madskills 🙀😻
RadiantKnight: Now that he's clearly using stronger weapons, his damage is far greater. But whether it's the short swords or daggers, his crit rate is insane! It's either at 100%, or Haxks is somehow bypassing the game's assist feature and landing those hits manually. But you'd need some god-level senses to pull that off!
MysticShot: Holy crap! This dude's on another level! Gotta step-up my game!
YeetMage: Can we take a moment to talk about the soundtrack? It's giving me life right now! 🎶
StormChaser: This is the content I signed up for! Haxks, keep it coming!]
Daisuke turned on his heels toward a group of three who had gathered their courage and were charging at him together. He flicked one sword into the air and summoned a Frost Prism and Lightning Bead to his hand. He tossed it at their feet, and as it exploded in a wave of ice, skewering and electrocuting them, he caught the sword and was already moving, blurring around them.
In their confusion, Daisuke ducked under one's pathetic excuse for a sword swing, grabbing the player by the collar and using him as a human shield against the other two.
Spinning the captive in a dizzying arc, he positioned him perfectly before plunging his sword multiple times through his chest, the force driving the victim into his comrades. As they turned to retaliate, all three were incinerated by the explosion of several Flarial Seeds.
In the midst of the chaos, a mage began to chant a powerful spell from a distance, light sparking from his wand. Daisuke's eyes locked onto him maliciously, his body coiled like a spring. In a flash, he sprinted toward the frightened mage, ducking and weaving through the mist to avoid incoming attacks.
Just as the mage unleashed a fireball, Daisuke vaulted into the air, his body twisting mid-flight as he delivered a vicious downward stab into the man's shoulder—one, two, a brutal barrage. The magic fizzled out of his wand as the mage screamed, only to be silenced as Daisuke delivered a final, bone-crushing roundhouse kick that sent the bastard disintegrating into a column of light.
In a quiet corner of the battlefield, a cleric was busy keeping a low profile, his voice barely audible as he murmured incantations to bolster his allies. Without warning, an Orc's head peeked out from the thick brush, and in a hushed tone, it whispered, "Human… accept dinkidoo."
Before the cleric could react, he was yanked violently into the dense underbrush, his robes scattering in the air as he screamed—his voice lost amid the chaos of the battlefield. He was just one of many victims, and by the time Daisuke's rampage was through, countless others met the same grim fate, enduring a level of trauma that couldn't even be compared to being eaten alive.
As the purple haze lifted, Daisuke watched with a stoic expression as the final vestiges of the players were consumed by a golden light.
[WokeWizard: Bro just obliterated an entire army, all while wearing the worst armor imaginable. All those who died seriously need to rethink their life choices.
KarenSlayer: And maybe quit the game while they're at it. Damn, what a bunch of losers.
PressF4Respect: I'd like to see you do better, asswipe.
DogeKnight: What if Haxks is secretly level 300 or something? With a level like that, pulling off something this insane wouldn't be out of the question, right?
RadiantKnight: Most of a player's defense is tied to their gear, so even if you're level 1000 with tons of HP, it wouldn't matter. Once your gear's subpar, you're basically a punching bag, and each hit takes a massive chunk of health. In Haxks's situation, he was so fast that no one managed to land a single hit.
DripLord: Holy crap! Guys, the Leaderboard just got updated! HAXKS WAS LEVEL 43 WHEN HE CLEARED THE DUNGEON!!
DankCrusader: WAIT! WHAT??]