"I have to agree, lad. Right now, you're leading the charge. But, I guess that means…it's also your choice," Korain told him.
As they were standing by the corner of a building, the blonde-haired girl, dressed in a white skirt and robes didn't notice them yet, only continuing to call out for help.
"Help, please…! Anybody!"
He looked forward, "She's in our path anyway, right? Just stay behind me."
"--" Xiaodan looked at Korain.
Korain glanced down at the adrogynous young man, shrugging his shoulders before looking forward, "Alright, then. Lead the way."
–
As he approached the compromised girl, she finally took notice as a relieved, but desperate expression stretched across her tear-drenched face.
"Oh…! Please! Please!"
Moving over, he brought his finger to his lips, "I'll help you, but you have to keep it down."
He gestured his finger around, suggesting that if she didn't stay quiet, the prowling fiends around the city would hear.
The girl nodded, gulping down as she looked up at him silently.
"Alright…What's wrong? Can you not walk?" He asked.
She shook her head, "...I twisted my ankle while on my way to the Tower."
It definitely seemed to be the case; one look at her ankle twisted the opposite direction it should be looked like a compromising injury to him.
Something struck him as odd about that when he looked at her, gathering her information from the System:
[Dasom | Level 18]
If she was heading to the Tower, and certainly in a rush at that, seeing as she managed to injure her ankle, it would be a given that she had the proper level to enter the Tower, but she didn't.
She's two levels short, he thought.
"...Alright, do you have any friends? Anybody you were with?"
Dasom looked at him for a moment before shaking her head, "...Well, actually, I did…but they left me here after I messed up my ankle…"
"I see…that's too bad. Well, I'll help you out," he said.
"Oh, thank you, bless you!" Dasom's expression lit up.
As the girl reached her hand up to him for aid, smiling with teary eyes, his expression remained unflinching as he extended his hand down, but not to grasp her own.
"Cast: Recon."
From his hand, the scouting spell exuded, propelling its deciphering mass of intangible air around the area.
It automatically filtered out his companions, but it registered any with ill intentions as his enemies:
[(5) Player(s) Detected. Hostile Intent Recognized.]
"--Huh?" Dasom looked up in surprise.
"Get back."
His calm words were for his two companions that stayed a safe distance behind as he reached for his daggers, swiftly drawing them as he glanced at either side just as the glass of both buildings neighboring him amidst the street shattered.
"Wait, hold on–I-I just wanted–" Dasom waved her hands, trying to dissuade him.
[Merciless Proficiency]: it was a proficiency he was ignorant of its capabilities, but it was something that acted "in his best interest"--a subtle alteration of his mind that gave him the proper fortitude to commit to the action he was about to take.
Without batting an eye as four players charged out from the buildings; two to his left, and two to his right, all wearing white uniforms, he uttered it:
"Esoteric Domain: Devil Slaying Hour."
[Spirit: -2000 | 600/3800]
Before any of the ambushing players could get the chance to strike, the personification of his inner realm stretched out, dragging the five unknown players inside of its hold instantaneously.
I can feel it; their killing intent. Perhaps it's my assassin proficiency being higher, but I can smell it in the air like the copper scent of blood, he thought.
In the enclosed realm holding a graveyard of blades and a world-sized clock up above, he looked forward as the five players all were taken aback by the change in scenery.
Dashing forward, he set his sights on the man dressed in all-white armor, who wielded a quartz warhammer.
[Level 18]
The same as the girl, the man was too low a level for the Tower, and too low of a level to stand a shadow of a chance against the red-haired assassin who wasn't holding out now.
"Graaah!"
Swinging wildly, the hammer-wielding player yelled out, disoriented by the nature of the Devil Slaying Hour before–
Squelch.
"--"
A slash right across the throat stifled his yells; instantly killing the lower-leveled player as his hammer fell from his hands.
He didn't bat an eye, moving forward as the companion to the hammer-wielding man took notice of his friend's fall seconds after, due to the altered perception. The player ahead of him was an assassin as well, though he wore all-white with only a single dagger in his hands.
[Level 16]
"--Wait, wait! We'll leave! You'll never see us again! So–"
Stepping back, the assassin-class young man who wore a rag around his head used a [Blink Step] in an attempt to retreat, but his variation of the skill was superior, reappearing behind the lesser assassin.
"Grk–!" The white-uniformed assassin spat out blood.
The dagger he wielded stabbed right through his neck, leaving him gargling on his own blood as he turned around just as a massive fireball was hurled towards him.
As he jumped up to evade it, the blazing attack smashed into the level-sixteen player, exploding and charring his body without fail.
The one who threw the fireball was a woman wielding a large, three-pronged staff with triple orbs on it, wearing lengthy, white-and-purple robes. She was without a doubt a mage-class.
"--Crap, no! Ta-Ro!" The orange-haired woman cried out.
[Level 19]
Angered by the tragic misfire, the ginger mage screamed out as she held her staff forward again, "Cast: Dragon's Smoldering Judgment!"
It looked to be the ultimate skill of the fire-wielding mage, manifesting the head of a dragon shaped by orange, roaring flames as it launched towards him, tunneling through the sands of his personal realm.
He landed on the ground, sprinting forward much to the dismay of the mage, who flinched just at the sight of the ruthless assassin not flinching as he was set to clash with the flameborn dragon.
"Twilight Cutter."
With a spinning slash of his daggers from afar, he unleashed the violet, rangeless slice that carved through the sands with impunity, cutting straight through the flaming projectile with ease.
"What–?!" The woman yelled out.
The twilight slash stopped as it reached her, leaving a massive gash that stretched from her forehead down to her abdomen.
"Ghh–!" The mage winced.
Though it wasn't enough to be instantly fatal, leaving him to finish the job as he blinked over, instantly cutting her throat as he moved past her towards the man who looked to be the most powerful of the group.
"Damn it…! Who the fuck are you?!"
It was a player dressed in pearlescent, white armor of sleek steel, wielding two claymores with a class he was unfamiliar with.
[Level 23]
Without a doubt, that man was the leader of the desperate, player-ambushing group, angered as his spiky, snow-white hair fluttered in the wind.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!--I'll kill you!" The dual claymore-wielding man slurred out his words in a rage.
Unleashed from those two, platinum blades was a massive set of slashes, released in a fit of wrath that carved through the sands harshly.
He didn't stop moving forward, dashing right past the attack as he continued to close the distance between him and the ringleader.
"Ngh…!"
The man stumbled back, clearly having trouble processing the lag between his body and the actions he ordered it to take.
"...Fuck!!!"
Without any thought, the ringleader unleashed everything he had, recklessly lobbing spells that razed the sand with lightning bolts, flames, and sharp gusts of air before–
Blink.
"Nothing personal, right?"
Those words quietly falling from his lips were the last that met the ears of the dual claymore wielder as his dagger sunk straight into his heart, being pulled out harshly as the player fell to his knees–bleeding out on the spot.
Last but not least was the girl who laid the trap in the first place.
Tick. Tock.
The massive clock ticked as the hand groaned, sliding across the far-reaching surface of the world clock.
Crawling backward, the blonde-haired young woman pleaded, "...Please! Th-they forced me to do it! Yeah! They forced me!"
Seeing that the vermilion-haired assassin wasn't stopping in his march towards her, Dasom changed her pleas again:
"We just needed some experience…! The Tower is about to open–! We would've been left here! You understand, right?! It's hell out here! It's…It's terrible!" Dasom cried.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom The crocodile tears didn't move him as he placed his boot down on her pale leg, anchoring her in place as she couldn't move away any further.
Though Dasom opened her mouth in another attempt to beg for her life, the look in the emerald eyes of the man standing over here already told her how futile it was. In those eyes, the decision was already made.
"You're right. This world is terrible. I have to look out for myself and the people close to me–that's why people like you can't exist," he told her coldly.
"Please–!"
Squelch.
Ending it swiftly, he dragged the perfectly sharp edge of his dagger across her soft throat in a seamless movement.
He stopped for a moment, standing there as the clock inside of the Devil Slaying Hour realm continued to tick.
Finally coming to a momentary stop, all of the collective experience combined itself into one prompt:
[EXP + 20000 | 14700/20000]
[Congratulations, Jeong-Hui. You've reached level 27]
[Remaining Skill Point(s): 4]
[Spirit (3900/3900) and Health Points (3550/3550) Fully Restored.]
[Assassin Proficiency: +4 | 50/9999]
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