“It’s probably time we go ahead and finish off that Ironsworn Ravager,” Silvie said, brushing her hands together after finishing her meal. “The equipment and materials it drops will be more than useful for the Exalted Dungeon.”

  “Won’t we be enough without it?” Kei asked, his voice edged with a hint of reluctance.

  “No matter your identity—or what you are—never make the mistake of underestimating anything with the word Exalted in it,” she replied firmly. “Entire universes have gone to war over things like this. Even something as small as an Exalted boxer would be treated as a priceless treasure. So a dungeon?” She shook her head. “We’ll need every edge we can get.”

  Kei glanced toward the sky, then back at her. “Just how much do you know about this stuff?”

  “My organization has deep archives—records left behind by our predecessors across multiple iterations,” Silvie explained. “They’ve done everything possible to prepare us for what might be ahead.”

  Then his gaze drifted toward the distant battlefield. “Still… I feel kind of bad. They’ve been working so hard to beat that thing. Trained for it. Bled for it. And we’re about to walk in and take the prize.”

  He exhaled softly. “Feels a little trashy, doesn’t it?”

  “For what it’s worth,” Silvie said, tone thoughtful, “there’s some pretty impressive people out there. Especially Mr. Number One and the scythe girl. I can actually see them becoming real powerhouses someday.”

  She stabbed at the last bit of food in her bowl before continuing. “But at this rate, no matter how many times they knock the Ravager down, it’s just going to get back up. That thing specializes in vitality.”

  Kei blinked. “Each Apex Boss has a specialty?”

  Silvie nodded. “Boar equals vitality. The Hare was speed. That monkey over there—” she gestured at Zeph, who was currently pretending not to exist, “—was all about dexterity. Which honestly makes it way more surprising that you managed to beat it. That must’ve been an ordeal.”

  “Yeah… a true ordeal,” Kei muttered, rubbing his side, the ghost of a wince flickering across his face as he remembered Zeph stabbing him clean through with its tail.

  He turned to glance at the Zephyr Monkey, eyes narrowing slightly—as if to say “you sure you don’t want to let her kill you?”

  Zeph immediately looked away, tail twitching nervously, like it wanted a lawyer present before continuing the conversation.

  “The longer we wait—and the more they beat on that thing—the angrier it gets, and the more dangerous it becomes,” Silvie said as she equipped her mythic gear. The Wildsap Coil uncoiled in her hands, thrumming with restrained nature energy. “It’s basically a waiting game… for when a lot of them start dying.”

  She glanced over, her expression serious. “So the sooner you teleport us back there, the less likely those people are to die.”

  Kei didn’t respond with words. He reached for his mask—crafted from Wooloo’s horn—and slipped it over his face once more. A quiet shift spread through the air around him.

  The pulse of his merged forces answered.

  Aether sparked and flared, flickers of electricity snapping along his arms and shoulders—but not with the usual blue-white hues of typical lightning.

  Instead, the arcs glowed a sharp, vibrant green. Laced with speed. With storm. With purpose.

  The system chimed:

  [Force Recognition Achieved]

  [New Unique Force Unlocked: Verdant Volt]

  —Fusion of Storm Pulse and Stormwind—

  [Verdant Volt — A dynamic lightning-based force that carries the adaptive velocity of Wind Force and the crushing pressure of pulse-based shock currents. Attacks chain through conductive surfaces, accelerate through air, and destabilize barriers with kinetic disruption. Green lightning signifies increased reaction to movement and directional wind patterns. Designed for precision pressure bursts, sudden momentum shifts, and overwhelming multi-hit barrages.]

  Kei exhaled slowly.

  His body shimmered faintly, green lightning coiling around his limbs like living wire.

  Silvie’s eyes widened slightly. “That… looks cool.”

  He turned toward her.

  “Hold on,” he said quietly.

  And they vanished—swept into the storm he now carried.

  Jin stood before the fallen Ironsworn Ravager. This had to be the fifth time he’d knocked it down—but as always, the beast roared and rose again.

  The battlefield was a disaster zone of cracked magma, shattered stone, and smouldering debris.

  Jenny’s twin-bladed scythe pulsed faintly, the rhythm of her kinetic energy stuttering as her reserves dwindled.

  Before the Ravager could fully rise, a sweeping crescent slash carved across its flank—delivered by Kaito, his lunar blade glowing with silver-blue brilliance. The arc left a searing trail of light in its wake as it bit deep into the beast’s hide, sending a spray of blood sizzling across the molten battlefield.

  Above, arrows rained from unpredictable angles—but only one stood out. Reese’s final arrow—the very first one Kei had ever crafted for him—cut through the smoke and buried itself with a resonant thud in the Ravager’s exposed shoulder. He didn’t have a quiver left, just that last shot—and he’d made it count.

  Down below, Kai fought like a man possessed. His spear, broken and still jutting from the boar’s ribs, had long been abandoned. What remained was pure adrenaline. Overdrafting himself with raw force, he slammed into the beast with fists and feet—each strike boosted by explosive bursts of Adrenaline Force. His movements weren’t elegant, but they hit like war drums. Survival. Rage. Desperation.

  Talia danced beside him, a flicker of speed and illusion. Her mirages no longer fooled the Ravager, but she pressed on, slashing at joints and weak points, her daggers moving like twin shadows.

  Owen held the line, battered but immovable. His armor had fused to his skin in places, Reinhardt’s gear melted and crumbling. Yet he refused to fall. Draggbane, chest heaving and embers dim, stood back-to-back with him, every breath forced.

  The battlefield was cracked earth and smoke. Magma hissed from broken seams. Around them, fighters struggled to stay conscious. Only the efforts of the healers—led by Seth weaving life into flesh—kept the raid from collapsing entirely.

  Then came the sound. A deep, resonant ring of force. Kaito and Talia pulled back just in time as concentric pulses of kinetic sound detonated against the Ravager’s flank. Sonar Rings erupted in rapid succession, flipping the massive beast onto its side with a guttural screech.

  The Ironsworn Ravager convulsed, thick black blood pouring from its mouth.

  Lisa stood at the edge of the blast zone, shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. Her hands crackled faintly, fingertips trembling from exhaustion.

  “I can’t believe how sturdy its insides are,” she said, voice half-broken, brushing damp hair from her face.

  But the Ravager... still moved.

  Barely.

  But still.

  A quiet sigh echoed across the battlefield.

  “I’m sorry, everyone. Thank you for your hard work... but this needs to end now.”

  Kei’s voice rang out clear, calm—and unmistakable.

  The masked figure stood atop the Ironsworn Ravager, Silvie at his side.

  Dozens of heads turned toward him. The moment his voice cut through the chaos, something unspoken shifted across the field. Relief. Not shouted. Not celebrated. Just felt. Deeply.

  For those who recognized him—his voice, his presence—it was like a dam breaking. Hope rushed in.

  Draggbane and Kaito, both exhausted and burned nearly to the bone, found themselves standing straighter without realizing it. They couldn’t explain the feeling. Couldn’t understand why their instincts immediately deferred to him.

  But they did.

  They had come to respect Kei— not for his strength alone, but for the quiet, undeniable way he anchored everything around him.

  From a distance, Jin and Jenny locked eyes, then gave the faintest nods. As if in silent agreement, they let their forces fade, retreating before they overreached. They had carried the raid. Frontline, vanguard, and shield. But they knew now it was time to step back.

  This wasn't their moment.

  Kei raised a foot.

  With a stomp, Verdant Volt pulsed through his limbs, slamming into the Ravager’s spine.

  Green lightning cracked through the boar’s massive body like roots tearing through stone—arcing, branching, blooming. The monster seized up, body twitching violently as its regeneration stalled for the first time.

  Silvie’s presence flared beside him, coils of Vine and Nature force lashing out to bind the Ravager in place. Roots pierced the cracked earth, locking the beast down like nails through a coffin lid.

  Kei exhaled once and called on all the aether he could muster.

  Cyan-green arcs of storm pulsed through the air, the fusion of Stormwind and Storm Pulse igniting with furious clarity—Verdant Volt roaring to life in full.

  The battlefield blurred.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  And then—

  Kei and the Ravager vanished in a burst of blinding wind and green lightning.

  Seeing all eyes shift toward her, Silvie thinned her lips… then gave a single, casual wave.

  No words. Just a smug, knowing flick of the wrist.

  But the attention on her wasn’t just curiosity or awe.

  It was disbelief.

  Because it wasn’t only her—it was the fact that the massive, hulking boar they’d been fighting tooth and nail, the one that refused to die no matter what they threw at it… was gone.

  Just gone.

  The Ironsworn Ravager—this nightmare wrapped in magma, stone, and fury—had vanished alongside the masked figure.

  Gone with the wind.

  Kai collapsed first. His adrenaline wore off all at once, and his legs folded beneath him like snapped branches. He hit the ground and didn’t even care.

  Talia and Reese weren’t far behind, their weapons hitting the dirt with dull thuds. Owen let out a long breath and leaned against a scorched slab of rock, finally allowing his shield to drop from his arm.

  They didn’t cheer.

  Didn’t speak.

  They just… let go. Let the exhaustion sink in.

  Because they knew.

  Now that Kei had stepped in—it was over.

  They didn’t need to finish it anymore. They could stop pushing past their limits. They could rest.

  And if they were being honest with themselves?

  They were proud.

  Of what they accomplished. Of how far they’d come. Proud that their training, effort, and cooperation had carried them through this hell of a fight—even if they hadn’t dealt the final blow.

  Their bodies were broken, but their spirits? Steady. Fulfilled.

  They’d held the line long enough.

  Now Kei would finish what they started.

  Seth rushed toward Jin, healing light already gathering in his palms.

  But Jin raised a hand to stop him.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, voice calm but firm. “There are others with worse injuries. Heal them first.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked a short distance away. His steps were steady, but the weight behind them was clear. He found a spot just off the main battlefield, sank down, and finally let himself rest.

  Jenny, meanwhile, had already taken her hair out of its ponytail, the long strands falling freely down her back. She stored her scythe in her inventory with one practiced motion—then immediately slumped over where she stood.

  Kaito rushed toward her, clearly worried.

  “Hey—are you okay?”

  By the time he got to her, she was already on the ground.

  Fast asleep.

  Snoring softly.

  He blinked, baffled.

  Lisa arrived a moment later, walking up to where her friend lay in the dirt. Without any ceremony, she dropped right on top of Jenny like a second blanket, burying her face into her back.

  Jenny didn’t even twitch.

  “...It’s like you’re two different people,” Kaito muttered, crouching beside them. He stared at the collapsed duo, still struggling to connect the image of the whirlwind gymnast with the girl now drooling into the grass.

  He shook his head.

  Still hard to believe it’s the same person.

  As if sensing something, Kaito and the others turned toward Silvie—only to find her staring silently up at the sky.

  Her eyes were wide. Focused.

  They followed her gaze.

  And then, the world seemed to pause.

  High above—so high it looked like a dream—Kei and the Ironsworn Ravager were falling from the heavens. Plummeting.

  The beast’s massive body spun helplessly, its limbs twitching as arcs of vibrant green lightning tore through it in pulses. Verdant Volt surged from Kei’s hands, ravaging the boar’s body, locking it in place mid-descent. It couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. It could only fall.

  Silvie moved, calm and deliberate.

  She planted her feet against the cracked earth, her fingers tracing a wide arc as green aether flared violently from the ground. The area around her surged, thrummed—then burst.

  A massive spike of condensed Vine Force erupted skyward like a spear thrown by the world itself.

  Silvie didn’t even flinch.

  And then—

  The Ravager hit.

  The spike pierced through it clean, the sheer force of its fall driving the weapon through bone, muscle, and core.

  The impact cracked the earth. A wave of wind rippled outward. Dust clouded the battlefield.

  The Ironsworn Ravager twitched once.

  And as if to make sure it couldn’t heal back from such an injury, the vine spike thrummed in excitement, draining the Ravager’s vitality down to its roots.

  Kei appeared next to Silvie.

  “I got this from here,” she said, eyes still fixed on the struggling beast. “I’ma drain it until its vitality wears out.”

  Kai, Talia, Reese, and Owen stood at a distance, their bodies battered, their weapons lowered. They watched with steady gazes and calm expressions—with a quiet sense of acceptance. The moment Kei arrived, they’d known it would end like this.

  Kei just nodded and clasped his hands together in quiet prayer—for the soon-to-be fallen Apex Boss.

  Kai, Talia, Reese, and Owen watched in silence, faint smiles tugging at their lips. They were used to Kei's actions by now. Lisa eyed him from the side, a quiet look in her eyes, her own smile barely there but present.

  For what they witnessed… no one else could’ve been more surprised.

  The calamity of a creature that had brought them to the brink—again and again—was just… defeated. As if it had always been simple. As if it had never stood a chance.

  They’d almost died, clinging to life with every last ounce of strength, and then… it was over.

  They couldn’t even say they’d weakened it. If anything, they’d made it worse—pissed it off, pushed it harder, forced it to grow stronger than when they first encountered it.

  And now?

  It was done. Just like that.

  Some were unwilling to accept it.

  Some stared in silent awe.

  Some praised the strength they’d just seen.

  Some were too drained to speak.

  And others, quietly, simply accepted that the fight was over.

  Silvie scanned the battlefield, watching all the subtle expressions—the conflict, the acceptance, the pride.

  “Sadly,” she murmured, “that’s the difference between us.”

  Her gaze lingered on the others. On their worn bodies. Their spent aether. Their bleeding hands.

  “In the new world we’re about to be part of… potential is the most unfair advantage.”

  She sighed softly, almost invisible in the wind.

  As Jin sat, watching the monstrosity he had felled again and again finally reach what seemed to be its true end, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just quietly waited for the moment to pass. For the endeavor to finish.

  But then—his shadow shifted.

  Without warning, a dark blade emerged—wreathed in shadow, shaped like a serpent. It lunged toward his neck, silent and precise, like a venomous snake about to strike.

  Jin didn’t react. Didn’t flinch. He simply watched the incoming blade with calm curiosity, as if studying a rare animal.

  Clang.

  The weapon was knocked off-course—veering violently to the side as a small metal orb struck it mid-air, ringing with sharp impact.

  The masked figure—Kei—stood at a distance, arm extended from the throw.

  His posture didn’t shift. His mask didn’t move.

  But the message was clear.

  The shadowy hand recoiled with a sharp twitch of pain before it vanished back into the shadows.

  Jin, unbothered by the ambush, simply closed his eyes again and continued resting—as if nothing had happened.

  But the shadow didn’t vanish.

  It shifted.

  From Jin... to Kei.

  Without warning, Kei felt something wrong. His movement—his control—slipping. He tried to lift his arm, but it resisted, stiff and unresponsive. As if… it no longer belonged to him.

  Then his shadow twitched.

  And his own arm followed—snapping upward with unnatural force, fingers curling toward his throat.

  It was trying to strangle him.

  Immediately, Kei pulsed a surge of green lightning—Verdant Volt—through his arm, disrupting its nervous signals with a focused jolt. The limb seized mid-motion, then went limp, falling away as if disconnected.

  He stared at his shadow, now trembling beneath him like something cornered—and angry.

  An annoyed grunt echoed across the clearing.

  Kei stared down at his limp arm and the trembling shadow beneath him. “Well, that’s not cool,” he muttered.

  Then, without warning—his sight vanished.

  Utter darkness.

  He blinked, waved his remaining good hand in front of his face. “Okay. I'm really blind. Well, that sucks.”

  Still waving his hand around, he suddenly twisted to the right—just barely dodging a dagger of shadow that hissed past his cheek. Another followed. Then another. Kei weaved, ducked, spun—instinct guiding his movements as shadow-blades zipped toward him like serpents in the dark.

  Outside his perception, the others watched in silence.

  They saw the masked figure standing in place—one hand fanning in front of his face, confused—then, without warning, dozens of black daggers burst into existence around him, each one dripping menace and radiating a lethal aura.

  And in the next breath… they saw him move.

  A blur of evasive footwork, flowing twists and turns, each motion clean and precise as the shadow daggers tore through the space he’d just been. None struck true.

  The masked figure danced with death.

  Blind. Unshaken.

  Annoyed and frustrated by his repeated failures, the shadowy figure surged from Kei’s feet like a rising curse, driven by desperation. His target wasn’t Jin anymore—but the blinded Kei.

  His dagger pulsed with compressed Shadow Force—until it wasn’t a dagger anymore. The weapon swelled mid-air, stretching into massive, wicked-edged greatswords formed entirely from writhing darkness.

  He lunged from above, twin blades descending in a brutal overhead cleave aimed to slice Kei clean in half.

  But then—

  Keuk.

  The air cracked—not from steel, but from Kei’s hand snapping up and locking around the attacker’s throat.

  The figure choked, eyes wide.

  Kei hadn’t dodged. He hadn’t flinched. He had waited.

  As the shadow blades came down, his working hand released a sudden, invisible burst of Verdant Volt, disrupting the daggers mid-descent with pinpoint pulses of force. The trajectory stuttered—just enough for Kei to slip his arm upward through the opening and catch his enemy by the throat.

  No sound. No warning. Just a grip like iron locking around his neck.

  From across the field, Kai, Talia, Reese, Owen… even Kaito and Draggbane turned to see the attacker for the first time.

  When they saw the figure dangling helplessly in Kei’s grasp—his cloak writhing, his eyes wild with disbelief—their reactions were all the same.

  A long, silent breath.

  A quiet moment of pity.

  Because they knew who that was now.

  And even if he didn’t realize it yet…

  Nyx Everhollow had just signed his own death warrant.

  Watching with faint amusement, Silvie’s focus slipped for just a second. Her vines paused mid-pulse, the draining of the Ironsworn Ravager hitching slightly.

  Because Kei still hadn’t let go of the shadow figure—his grip locked tight around Nyx Everhollow’s throat, the assassin dangling in the air like a caught phantom.

  And then, the system chimed.

  [Participant: ------] has successfully defeated one of the Five Expanse Apex Guardians, overcoming insurmountable odds and claiming victory against the Vipersteel Basilisk, Master of Steel.]

  Several raid members looked up, confused.

  That wasn’t the name of the boar they were fighting.

  And sure enough—

  [Participant: ------] has successfully defeated one of the Five Expanse Apex Guardians along with raid members, overcoming insurmountable odds and claiming victory against the Ironsworn Ravager, Master of the Earth.]

  Two announcements. Two different bosses.

  Everyone caught it. Everyone understood.

  Silvie slumped forward dramatically, vines still draining the last bits of life from the Ravager’s twitching corpse.

  “Why do I always lose the kill credit by literal seconds?!” she groaned, flopping her arms like a frustrated child. “I was so close!”

  The boar gave one final shudder before going limp, finally still. The vitality drained dry. Its long, brutal reign ended.

  Meanwhile, far from the battlefield—deeper in the forest…

  Trees were uprooted. Trenches carved into the ground like claw marks. The land was stained with venom and ichor.

  There lay the remains of another Apex: a titanic serpent coiled like a collapsed fortress. Its metallic scales shimmered like forged platinum, twisted and cracked in places. It had died in fury. In motion.

  And next to it stood a figure—tall, lean, and ragged with wounds.

  His clothes were plain. His stance, effortless. But his eyes—sharp and green like emerald blades—cut across the scene with silent judgment.

  The Vipersteel Basilisk was dead.

  And he had done it alone.

  No party. No raid. No flare of system-bolstered advantage.

  He flexed one hand, fingers twitching slightly. Then slid both hands into his coat pockets, stepping past the corpse without a word.

  Victory wasn't worth celebrating.

  It was merely… expected.