Chapter 146: Merciless Slaughter

Marcus became a blur of motion, his body surging forward with explosive speed. He crossed the distance like a galloping horse, closing in on the Sorcerer in the blink of an eye. In the next instant, he was already behind the man, his gaze fixed on the unarmored stretch of flesh between the Sorcerer’s robes.

’That has to be a weak point,’ Marcus thought. ’Time to see if theory holds up.’

He raised the Skeleton Blade and drove it straight toward the Sorcerer’s spine.

“Ah!”

The Sorcerer sensed something wrong at the last second and spun around in blind panic, only to meet the cold, gleaming arc of Marcus’s blade. Terror flooded his face as a sharp cry tore from his throat, but Marcus felt nothing. The Skeleton Blade did not hesitate or deviate.

-1810!

It was a perfect critical hit. The Sorcerer let out a wet, gurgling sound before collapsing to the ground, his body going limp almost instantly. His defenses were laughably low. The damage was complete overkill. Even a basic attack probably would have been enough to erase him.

That left only the Archer.

Archers were built for speed. Agility was their lifeline, and retreat was supposed to be their greatest strength. He had fled toward the city alongside the Sorcerer, but he had already pulled far ahead, his long strides eating up the ground as he ran for his life.

“No!”

The Archer heard the death rattle behind him and dared to glance over his shoulder. The moment he saw his companion crumpled in the dirt and Marcus already turning toward him, his face drained of color. His eyes went wide, as though he were staring straight at a nightmare given form.

Then he screamed.

It was not a battle cry or a shout for help. It was raw, hysterical terror, the kind that scraped the throat bloody as it poured out. He screamed until his lungs burned, his voice cracking and breaking under the weight of his fear.

’What a joke’, Marcus thought coldly.

A grown man, playing a combat game, screaming like a scared kid. In Dominion, violence was inevitable. You fought with everything you had and killed your opponent, or you fought just as hard and died. There was no room for this kind of pathetic collapse.

What Marcus did not know was that these four had always been the predators. They were the ones who ambushed others, who relied on dirty tactics and overwhelming numbers. They were accustomed to watching people panic and beg. They were never meant to be on the receiving end.

The Archer, especially, was used to hiding behind his buddies and picking off targets from a safe distance. Watching all three of his bros get slaughtered in seconds, without even the chance to resist, shattered something inside him. His mind simply could not accept it.

Marcus had originally intended to take his time. He wanted to chase the Archer down slowly, to let the fear sink in, to make the man understand that escape was impossible. He wanted to be the thing that haunted him long after this fight ended.

But the screaming grated on his nerves. Worse, it was drawing attention. Players near the West Gate were already turning their heads, some of them looking around as if a World Boss had spawned to cause such an unholy racket.

’Change of plans,’ Marcus decided. ’I’m not here to make a scene.’

“Desperate Strike!”

-6520!

Marcus planted his feet and hurled the Skeleton Blade with his full strength. The Grandmaster-tier Desperate Strike tore through the air like a ballistic missile and slammed into the Archer’s back. The damage alone was enough to kill him several times over. Combined with the Archer’s forward momentum, the impact sent the body flipping end over end across the grass before it finally skidded to a stop.

Marcus walked over at an unhurried pace and retrieved his blade. He looked down at the corpse and let out a quiet sigh. It was a shame the system did not allow players to desecrate bodies. He genuinely felt like poking a few more holes in these bastards.

The entire fight had lasted less than thirty seconds. In his anger and haste, he had even forgotten to use Insight to check their names.

’Doesn’t matter,’ he thought. ’Whoever they were, they touched what’s mine. That’s all the reason I need.’

“Hey, what was that over there?”

“Are those bodies? Someone get PK’d?”

“Didn’t even hear much fighting. Couldn’t have been much of a brawl.”

The Archer’s screams had done their work. A small crowd began to gather, players whispering among themselves and pointing at the four corpses scattered across the field.

“He… he… he…”

A Sorcerer who had witnessed the entire slaughter stood frozen, staring at the scene in front of him. His face was pale, his eyes unfocused. The shock had locked his mind so tightly that he could barely speak.

“He what? Spit it out, man. You’re shaking like a leaf,” someone nearby complained.

“He… he… one…”

“For God’s sake, shut up!” a hot-headed Warrior snapped, grabbing the Sorcerer by the collar of his robes. “If you stutter one more time, I’ll PK you myself. Talk!”

The threat finally jolted the Sorcerer back to reality. He sucked in a deep breath, his chest heaving, and forced the words out. “He soloed them! A Knight just killed four players by himself!”

“Psh.”

“Boring.”

“I thought it was something actually interesting.”

The crowd’s excitement evaporated almost instantly. Player killing was nothing unusual. They had been expecting something far more dramatic.

“Hahaha! Kid,” the Warrior laughed, clapping the Sorcerer on the shoulder with a smug grin. “Do you know how many people I’ve taken down? I could wipe out ten of you. Four players is nothing. I could do that in my sleep.”

“No, you don’t understand!” the Sorcerer shot back, his voice suddenly sharp. He shook off the Warrior’s hand, eyes blazing. “He killed all four in under thirty seconds! You didn’t even see him move! You have no idea how strong that Knight was!”

The Sorcerer’s conviction was absolute. What he had witnessed had burned itself into his mind, and Marcus’s overwhelming power had become something close to faith. He refused to let anyone belittle it.

The Warrior blinked, startled by the smaller man’s sudden intensity. The certainty in the Sorcerer’s gaze made him hesitate despite himself.

“Thirty seconds for four people?” the Warrior muttered, trying to recover his composure. “Maybe they were just Level 10 noobs.”

“Exactly,” another player said, nodding. “Probably just some newbies getting bullied. What a coward. We should track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Yeah! Let’s hunt him down!” a few others echoed, the group mentality starting to buzz.

The Sorcerer laughed.

It was not a nervous laugh or a friendly one. It was cold and sharp, filled with quiet contempt, and it made the people around him uneasy.

“What’s so funny, kid? You wanna be next?”

“I’m laughing because you’re all idiots,” the Sorcerer replied calmly. He pointed toward the bodies. “Go take a closer look. Look at their faces. Then tell me they were Level 10 noobs.”

One player stepped forward and crouched beside the fallen Archer. He squinted, then stiffened as recognition set in. “Hold up… is that… SavageWolf_Wind?”

“It is!” another player exclaimed, rushing over. “And this one’s SavageWolf_Star! That’s SavageWolf_Stone, and that’s SavageWolf_Slayer!”

The crowd fell silent.

The names passed through the group like a shockwave.

The Savage Wolf Mercenaries were infamous throughout Dragon’s Peak Citadel. They were not random players or casual bullies, but a coordinated squad known for ruthless ambushes and relentless harassment. To see all four of them lying dead was not just another PK.

It was a massacre.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep