CHAPTER 318: 318

The fight was raging like wildfire in the dark forest path. Moonlight flickered through the trees, casting pale glows across blood-soaked leaves and broken twigs. The eerie sound of chains clashing with weapons and cries of madness filled the air.

Vic had taken a defensive stance, his breathing heavy and legs sliding across the dirt from the impact of another chain strike.

The woman in front of him—wild-eyed, grinning, with ragged hair and torn robes looked like something born out of a nightmare.

Her chain was long and gleaming, blackened with some twisted energy. Whenever it touched something, it hissed, eating into life force. Vic’s left arm already bore a burn where it had grazed him, draining his strength and spreading a cold numbness.

"You’re so slow," the woman giggled. Her voice was cracked and high-pitched, like glass scraping against stone. "So dull. Are you even worth the choir?"

Vic didn’t respond apparently but screamed inwardly.

’’Now what’s up with this bullshit.’

He focused, his stance light. His sword trembled slightly in his hand. He wasn’t like the others; he didn’t have lightning or fire or some mystic power flowing through him. Just steel, discipline, and the teachings of his Lord.

Another chain whipped toward him. He ducked, narrowly missing it, but the backlash of energy brushed past his shoulder. His body jerked, and he staggered.

The woman cackled louder, spinning the chain above her head. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sound of your struggle? You should just stop resisting. Embrace it. Let me devour you slowly."

Vic didn’t say anything. His hand tightened around his sword. Then, his eyes narrowed.

"Reflection..."

He whispered the word to himself. A memory surfaced of his Lord’s voice, calm and cold in training.

"The world doesn’t always need power to break chains. Sometimes, you reflect the main brunt of the attack on the dealer."

His heartbeat slowed. The next time the chain came flying toward him, he didn’t dodge. He moved slightly—just enough. Then, with a single step forward and a twist of his blade, he guided the chain along the surface of his sword. It clicked, sparks flying off the edge.

The chain rebounded.

A shocked cry erupted from the woman. "What?!"

Her own chain whipped back toward her shoulder and grazed it. The impact caused her body to jolt and she stumbled back. Vic didn’t wait.

He lunged forward.

With a sharp turn of his wrist, he deflected the next incoming strike and spun low. His blade struck the woman’s thigh, drawing blood. She screamed, more in rage than pain.

"You cheated! That’s not possible! You’re a worm! How—"

Vic moved again, weaving between her erratic attacks. His mind was clear now. Her strength came from the chain—but she never fought directly. Her confidence made her lazy. She was expecting him to crumble.

He didn’t.

Every time the chain came for him, Vic used the same technique—redirecting it using angles, momentum, and her own force. With each failed strike, her breathing became heavier and her madness more unstable.

"You bastard!" she shrieked, eyes wide. She pulled the chain with both hands, aiming to bind him, to drain him dry.

Vic took a deep breath and then leapt sideways, letting the chain fly past him. He kicked off a tree, and in one clean movement, he brought his sword down on the chain. A loud crack echoed.

Sparks flew.

The chain didn’t break entirely—but it fractured, enough to lose its balance.

She staggered.

Vic didn’t waste it. He rushed in. One blow to her ribs. Another to her shoulder. His strikes were clean, fast, and deadly.

The woman screamed and spun with the broken chain, trying to strangle him. Vic ducked and drove his knee into her stomach. As she doubled over, gasping, he grabbed the chain with his bare hand despite the searing pain.

"Let me show you something," he growled, twisting it.

With a sharp jerk, he wrapped the loose end of the chain around her own arm and yanked. Her own cursed energy slammed back into her body.

"GYAAAHHHHH!" she screamed, her body convulsing, the backlash tearing through her. Her skin smoked where the chain touched, her lips foamed.

Vic stood over her, panting. Blood ran down his cheek, mixing with sweat.

"You want to devour others?" he said coldly. "Try tasting your own poison first."

And with one final strike, he slammed the hilt of his sword into her head cracking open her head. She collapsed like a rag doll, unconscious or dead.

Vic stepped back, eyes still sharp, heart pounding.

He looked up toward the others. The fight was still going on. He didn’t have time to celebrate.

But he had proven something: He didn’t need super powers.

The wind howled around the broken ruins on the outskirts of the forest, where three figures stood, panting and grim-faced, staring down their opponent.

.....

Across from them crouched a beastly woman—barefoot, limbs elongated unnaturally, and walking low on all fours.

Her muscles rippled like taut wires beneath her skin. Her long, jagged nails clicked against the broken stone like talons, and a savage grin twisted across her face, blood smeared over her chin. She tilted her head unnaturally and sneered at the trio.

"A B-rank and a C-rank think they can touch me?" she laughed, the sound sharp and wild.

"Since when did A-ranks fall to puppies?"

Chris, holding his blade in reverse grip, wiped the blood from his lip and scowled. "She’s fast... And feral."

Barret cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, muscles bulging beneath his torn armor. "There hasn’t been such a precedent," he said calmly, planting one foot forward.

"But there will be now," Gare added with a cold tone, his sword gleaming in the moonlight.

With no further warning, the beast-woman launched forward like a missile, claws swiping upward toward Gare. He barely had time to react but ducked and rolled sideways, her nails grazing across his arm, shredding fabric and skin.

Barret roared and moved in, swinging his heavy broadsword in a wide arc. She leapt back with inhuman agility, landed on all fours, then darted toward Chris like a blur. Her claws slashed out, but Chris twisted and used his momentum to slide under her, narrowly avoiding a disemboweling strike.

"Keep moving!" Gare shouted. "She’s using blind spots!"

Chris rolled out of range and came up beside Gare. "She fights like an animal. Fast... but reckless."

Barret circled wide, trying to get behind her. "Then let’s hunt her like one."

They moved in sync—Chris darted forward and slashed to bait her, then rolled aside. The woman lunged at him, but Gare intercepted from her left, landing two quick strikes that left shallow cuts across her ribs. She hissed and spun, slashing at him, only to find her claws clashing against Barret’s sword.

He grunted as he held the blade firm, resisting her monstrous strength. "Gah—she’s strong!"

Chris came from behind and jabbed his sword at her leg, but she kicked backward, knocking him off balance.

She snarled, "You think this teamwork is enough?!"

The ground tore beneath her claws as she spun midair and launched a flying kick at Gare, who crossed his daggers and blocked—barely. The force sent him skidding back with gritted teeth.

"Damn... she’s on something else entirely."

"She’s not invincible," Barret growled, moving beside him. "But we need to take a risk."

Gare narrowed his eyes. "I have a plan. I’ll let her get close, give her a false opening. When she takes it, you two finish it."

Barret stared at him for a second, then shook his head. "No. I’m bigger. I’ll take the hit. My body can handle more. You two are faster use that."

"But Barret—" Gare started, but Barret had already stepped forward.

The beast-woman sniffed the air and grinned, fangs glinting. "Big boy wants to play hero now?"

She lunged at him but Barret held his ground as the nails pierced into his skin.Instead of letting her go,he grabbed her with a jolt.

Chris and Gare flanked left and right.

The woman struck—her nails slashed down, tearing deep into Barret’s shoulder. Blood spurted, and he grunted in pain but didn’t retreat. Instead, with a thunderous roar, he brought his forehead down like a hammer.

CRACK.

The sound of bone shattering echoed as her nose caved in. She shrieked and reeled back, stunned.

"NOW!" Barret roared, grabbing her midsection and lifting her clean off the ground in a bear hug, locking her arms with his own as her claws slashed wildly into his back and side.

Chris moved in first, slamming his blade into her lower spine. She screamed, arching back in agony.

Gare followed, pulling out daggers and driving both his daggers into her upper back just beneath her shoulder blades.

She shrieked, her limbs flailing violently. But Barret held on like a vice.

Blood poured from her wounds. Her strength waned.

"Y-you... bastards..." she rasped, coughing blood.

Barret grunted, pushing her to the ground, still holding tight. "You made a mistake."

"We’re not fighting alone," Chris muttered.

"Something beasts like you don’t understand."

The woman thrashed one last time—but it was weak, broken. Her head dropped, her limbs slackened.

Barret panted heavily and rolled over, his body covered in gashes.

Gare knelt beside him and pressed his hand to the wound on Barret’s shoulder. "You mad ox... you almost got yourself killed."

Barret chuckled, wincing. "Yeah, but we won, didn’t we?"

Chris exhaled and sat down beside the corpse. "A-rank, huh? Damn monster... But she’s down."

"She isn’t a proper A rank.."Gare spoke and looked around.

"In fact none of them are."