Chapter 155: The end of Vance’s arrogance

“Then we strike now!” Vance decided with desperate authority. “While he’s distracted!”

But Ethan’s voice carried across the battlefield with conversational clarity. “Are you planning to join your subjects eventually, or will you continue hiding behind their corpses?”

The question froze all three Gold-rank leaders as they realized their ’strategy’ had been transparent from the beginning.

“He’s been watching us the entire time,” Walsh whispered with dawning horror.

The last twenty-five subjects died while their leaders watched.

…

The stronghold fell silent except for the groans of wounded survivors and the crackling of fires that had erupted during the systematic slaughter. Nearly three hundred subjects lay dead across multiple platforms.

Lord Vance stood among the carnage, his Peak-Gold aura flickering with barely contained fury and growing despair. Beside him, three remaining Gold-rank captains maintained defensive positions despite witnessing the futility of conventional resistance.

“Impressive demonstration,” Ethan said conversationally, stepping over corpses casually. “But ultimately unnecessary. I’m not here for genocide.”

Vance’s C+ grade Swordsmanship talent blazed to life as his weapon materialised in his grip. Decades of combat experience guided his stance while enhanced capabilities prepared for what might be his final battle.

“Then what do you want?” he demanded, though his voice carried notes of desperation rather than confident authority.

“Territorial reorganization. New management structure. Your cooperation in implementing necessary changes.”

The first Gold-rank captain—a specialist in earth manipulation—couldn’t contain his tactical assessment any longer. “You massacred a hundred of our people and call it negotiation?”

“Your people chose violence,” Ethan replied with patient explanation. “You targeted me first. I’m simply responding to established hostility with proportional force.”

Truth.

The remaining captains spread into tactical formation around their lord, their individual auras combining into coordinated threat display that would have intimidated most territorial opponents. Professional military experience guided their positioning.

“You want cooperation?” Vance’s grip tightened on his enhanced blade. “Then you’ll have to take it.”

Poor choice.

“So be it.”

Combat erupted as four Gold-rank combatants attacked simultaneously.

Vance led the assault with sword techniques that demonstrated decades of refinement. His C+ grade talent created cutting edges that could slice through mountains while enhanced speed made his strikes blur at the edges of perception.

The earth manipulation specialist created battlefield hazards that should have limited mobility options. Stone spikes erupted in geometric patterns while pit traps opened beneath seemingly solid footing.

A fire-based captain contributed thermal attacks that turned the air itself into weapon. Superheated plasma streams sought vital points while environmental temperature climbed toward dangerous levels.

The final captain specialized in metal manipulation, his talent turning nearby architecture into projectile weapons that struck with pile-driver force while sharp edges sought to dismember through precision targeting.

Ethan’s response demonstrated the gulf between Gold-rank coordination and Platinum-rank.

Enhanced Speed activated. Reality became a frozen sculpture as their coordinated assault appeared sluggish despite enhanced capabilities.

Instead of overwhelming counterattack, he chose educational precision. Each defensive technique showcased capabilities that operated beyond their understanding while avoiding fatal damage.

Vance’s sword strike—fast enough to challenge most Gold-rank opponents—met crystal-hardened flesh with ringing impact. The blade, enhanced with C+ grade technique, failed to penetrate skin that had achieved mineral perfection.

The lord’s eyes widened as his masterwork technique accomplished nothing except demonstrating the futility of conventional assault. Decades of sword training reduced to educational exhibition.

“Impossible,” he breathed, professional assessment recognising his helplessness.

The earth specialist’s attack met geological mastery that dwarfed his capabilities entirely. Volcanic force erupted through his stone constructs, turning defensive barriers into molten obstacles while thermal energy overwhelmed his environmental control.

The captain stared at his liquefied constructs with growing horror. His earth manipulation—refined through years of combat—had been casually overwhelmed by superior technique that operated on different principles entirely.

“My best techniques… meaningless,” he whispered, tactical understanding recognizing hopeless disadvantage.

Fire attacks met volcanic control that made their capabilities seem like candle flames. Ethan’s volcanic mastery absorbed their plasma streams while radiating heat that forced them backward despite their enhanced resistance.

The fire captain’s expression shifted from confidence to confusion to growing fear as his attacks were not just blocked but absorbed entirely. His flames became fuel for techniques that exceeded his understanding.

“He’s not defending,” the captain muttered. “He’s feeding off our attacks.”

Metal projectiles met wind manipulation that redirected their force harmlessly aside. Enhanced steel became educational tools as Ethan demonstrated control over battlefield dynamics that made their positioning strategies obsolete.

The metal specialist watched his attacks being casually redirected with expressions of mounting despair. Professional military experience recognized when tactical situations had evolved beyond salvage.

Ethan’s counterattack came with precisely measured force—enough power to demonstrate overwhelming superiority without causing permanent injury.

Volcanic mastery created thermal pressure waves that sent all four combatants flying backward into prepared soft landings. No broken bones, no fatal injuries, just absolute demonstration of power disparity.

They struggled to their feet, enhanced constitution allowing rapid recovery from impacts that would have killed normal humans. But their eyes now carried the weight of witnessed impossibility.

“Again,” Vance commanded, though his voice lacked conviction.

Denial. Expected psychological response.

The second assault came with desperate fury as they recognized their approaching defeat. Enhanced techniques pushed beyond safe parameters while coordination reached levels that spoke of accumulated combat partnership.

Professional soldiers giving everything they possess.

Ethan’s defense demonstrated even greater disparity.

Water manipulation created barriers that absorbed their attacks while redirecting force through physics that challenged their understanding. Pressure waves sent them stumbling without causing injury.

Crystal spears erupted around their positions—not to impale, but to demonstrate precision control that could have eliminated them instantly. Razor-sharp points stopped millimeters from vital locations.

Wind blades carved through their equipment without touching flesh. Enhanced armor fell away in pieces while weapons developed hairline cracks that rendered them useless.

The psychological impact was devastating. Four Gold-rank combatants found themselves disarmed and defenseless within seconds, their professional capabilities rendered meaningless by power that operated on different scales entirely.

“No,” the earth specialist whispered, staring at his destroyed equipment. “This can’t be happening.”

Denial shifting toward acceptance. Psychological progress.

“Our coordination means nothing,” the fire captain muttered, professional assessment recognizing tactical hopelessness. “Individual power… transcends everything we understand.”

Vance’s C+ grade sword lay broken at his feet, its enhanced metal unable to withstand casual contact with techniques that exceeded its material limitations. His life’s work reduced to educational debris.

“Years of rank advancement,” he said hollowly. “Months of regional dominance. Territorial empire. All of it… meaningless.”

The third assault came from pure desperation rather than tactical hope. Four combatants who understood their defeat but couldn’t accept psychological surrender.

Ethan’s counter-demonstration eliminated their remaining illusions.

Enhanced speed carried him through their formation faster than perception could track. Each combatant found themselves gently relocated to different positions without understanding how the movement had occurred.

“How?” the metal specialist asked, staring at his new position with expressions beyond confusion. “I didn’t see… feel… anything.”

Crystal manipulation reshaped the platform beneath their feet, creating individual pedestals that lifted them to different heights while demonstrating control over their environment that exceeded their resistance capabilities.

“We’re insects,” the fire captain said with hollow realization. “Individual insects challenging natural disasters.”

Volcanic mastery warmed the air around them—not to injury, but to demonstrate environmental control that made their positioning irrelevant. Comfort or discomfort existed according to his preference rather than their defensive capabilities.

Lord Vance collapsed to his knees as the weight of absolute defeat crushed his ego entirely. Everything he’d believed about power, advancement, and territorial control had been systematically dismantled.

“What are you?” he whispered, professional curiosity the only emotion surviving complete psychological devastation.

“I’m Ethan,” Ethan smiled.

The simple introduction carried more weight than any grand proclamation. A name spoken with casual confidence by someone who had just redefined the boundaries of individual capability.

Vance stared at the carnage surrounding them—three hundred subjects dead, defensive systems destroyed, his life’s work reduced to cooling corpses and scattered debris. The magnitude of his strategic failure became undeniable.

“I… I destroyed everything with my own hands,” he said with growing horror. “My subjects. My territory. My empire. All sacrificed for pride.”

His voice cracked as the realization hit him.

Every death lay at his feet—not from external conquest, but from his own refusal to recognise when resistance became suicide.

His gaze fixed on nearby corpses. “Loyal subjects who believed in my leadership. I sent them to die for nothing.”

The three remaining Gold-rank captains shared their lord’s growing despair. Professional soldiers understood when tactical decisions led to unnecessary casualties through command failure.

“My Lord,” the earth specialist said quietly. “We… we surrender.”

“Unconditional surrender,” the fire captain added, his weapon clattering to the platform surface. “Sir Ethan, we are under your mercy.”

Vance’s shoulders sagged as he processed the complete destruction of everything he’d built. Decades of advancement, years of territorial expansion, hundreds of loyal subjects—all lost because his ego couldn’t accept the mathematics of overwhelming individual superiority.

“I surrender,” he whispered, the words tasting like ashes. “Complete submission to your authority.”

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