CHAPTER 90: AN OPPORTUNITY IN DISGUISE

"Go to the Hunter Guild," Daliah told the coachman through the speaking hatch in the carriage.

"But Princess, Prince Rowan clearly gave me instructions to take you home first. If I deny that, then I will..." Sean didn’t finish his sentence, but it was crystal clear what he meant. He was afraid of being punished for not following orders.

"Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you. But if we follow Rowan’s instructions, then he will never come out alive. And what do you think will happen to you then?" Daliah tried to threaten the coachman a bit.

She knew exactly why Rowan had asked the coachman to take her home first. He just wanted her to be safe. And he was never depending on backup from the royal palace. The people running from the market would surely go to the Hunter Guild. At least some of them would and ask for help. And that’s what Rowan was betting on. But it would be too late before they reached there. She, on the other hand, had a carriage and was already ahead of the others. If she could bring help, then her brother and Logan would both be safe.

Sean didn’t dare to show any more hesitation. The carriage shot toward the Hunter Guild at full speed.

Back in the market—

The area looked like the aftermath of a brutal war.

Dead bodies were scattered everywhere. The ground was soaked in blood. Some nearby buildings and wagons were still burning, with smoke rising slowly into the sky like silent cries for help.

And in the middle of that chaos, five figures were still fighting—holding back the tide of monsters with everything they had.

Almost all the civilians had managed to escape by now. They had used the gap Rowan created earlier to flee. That was his first goal—save the innocents.

And he had done it.

But his second goal?

That was still hanging by a thread.

He needed to stall for time—long enough for the people who escaped to reach the Hunter Guild and send help. Until then, they had to survive. All of them. One was already dead. And Rowan didn’t want the number to increase.

And right now, that was no easy task.

All four hunters—excluding Logan—were busy fending off the goblins and dire wolves. The battlefield was chaotic, and the monsters kept coming in waves.

The numbers were overwhelming.

But the four of them were doing well. Despite the pressure, they were pushing forward. The monsters weren’t strong individually. It was only their sheer numbers that posed a threat.

Still, the hunters were fighting hard—and slowly gaining the upper hand.

Because the biggest threat... wasn’t with them.

The Orc was still locked in combat with Logan.

And that was the real problem.

Logan was barely holding on. Every blow he exchanged with the Orc came with blood, exhaustion, and risk. He was powerful, but even he had limits. Rowan knew it very well.

A single misstep—one slip—could mean death.

Rowan couldn’t let that happen.

He turned to his three companions, shouting over the sounds of battle, "Everyone! We need to finish these goblins and dire wolves as fast as possible. Then we strike the Orc—together!"

His voice was steady, but urgent.

"If we delay... and Logan falls..." he didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

The other three nodded instantly. They understood.

They all knew—if Logan went down, they’d be next.

But if he could stall the orc just a little longer, and they could clear the monsters quickly, they might stand a chance.

It was the only option left.

The only way they could all come out of this alive.

With renewed determination, the four of them surged forward. Mana swords swung, spells lit up the air, and blood sprayed across the ruined street.

They had no time to rest.

Only time to fight.

Because the storm was still far from over.

And on the other side, Logan was locked on with the Orc. He couldn’t gain any advantage. And his injuries were only increasing. But he could tell. He could feel it.

The Orc was also getting impatient.

It swung its axe at Logan. The axe came at him, tearing through the air with a whistle. Logan jumped and landed on the very axe he was attacked with, and leaped toward the orc’s face. Clenching his fist, he threw a punch. His fist blazed with fire. If Rowan had time to see this, he would’ve gone crazy for sure out of shock.

The punch landed squarely in the orc’s face with a thud. Its large frame started to fall like a collapsing building, but it didn’t want to be the only one taking hit. Its left hand clenched into a fist and flew toward Logan. Logan crossed both his arms, and the punch landed on them. He flew back, skidding across the ground. His legs dragged on the ground, leaving a trail of dust.

"What a headache!" Logan bent his body to stop the slide, then charged at the orc again. Both his fists were soaked in blood. His breathing was uneven. But there was no crack in his spirit. He was going all out. He wasn’t gaining any advantage—but he wasn’t losing either.

And what’s more strange?

Logan actually had a faint smile on his face.

He was enjoying the fight. All the civilians were safe. The other four weren’t doing great, but they should be okay. Logan’s focus was fully on the battle.

This was the first worthy opponent he’d had after being reborn. He could finally put all his training and achievements to the test. He was already at the Martial Disciple level in cultivation, and a Tier One mage with five elemental affinities. This fight was an opportunity in disguise—an unexpected chance to test his true limits. To see where he stood in the food chain now.

He went for a flying kick aimed at the orc’s face, who had already gotten back up. Seeing Logan coming, it swung its axe again. Logan’s legs were covered in ice like a hammerhead. Both the axe and the kick collided.

Boom!

The clash echoed across the battlefield, and dust swallowed them both.