Chapter 82: A behemoth!

Pain exploded through his ribs as he crashed through a stone wall.

Ruan struck at an eye-stalk, blade slicing halfway through before sticking fast. The behemoth roared, shaking violently.

The general clung desperately to his embedded weapon, body whipping through the air like a rag doll.

“The armour is tough!” Ethan shouted, spitting blood as he stood upright.

The behemoth slammed Ruan into the ground with sickening force.

Their strategy had failed miserably.

Ethan scanned his surroundings, searching for any advantage against the towering monstrosity.

Buildings, debris, weapons scattered across blood-soaked stone—nothing that could penetrate that regenerating armor.

This is troublesome.

The behemoth loomed over them, six eye-stalks tracking their movements with predatory intelligence.

Its armor showed barely a scratch despite their silver-enhanced attacks. Each segment gleamed with unnatural resilience, wounds sealing almost as quickly as they formed.

Ruan crashed to the ground nearby, silver aura flickering weakly as he struggled to rise. Blood streamed from beneath shattered armor, pooling on broken cobblestones.

Unlike Ethan, the general had neither defensive talents nor regenerative abilities. Those injuries weren’t something he could simply push through.

He’s done. One more hit and he’s dead.

Ethan glanced skyward where Han battled the Harpy in spectacular aerial combat. Silver energies clashed with thunderous impacts, illuminating the night sky like competing lightning storms.

Yet neither scored a decisive blow.

Neither appeared to be truly trying.

This bastard.

What is he doing? Is he cooperating with the beasts to get me killed or does he want everyone in the city to die?

The behemoth advanced, each step shaking the foundations of nearby structures.

Buildings that had stood for decades began crumbling under the tremors radiating from its massive body.

Behind it, fresh waves of bronze-beasts poured through widening breaches in the wall.

The eastern sector was lost.

Ethan made his decision.

No victory awaited here—only pointless death. Survival demanded retreat, regrouping, reassessing.

“EVERYONE RETREAT!” His voice carried silver-enhanced authority across the battlefield.

“FIGHT DEFENSIVELY UNTIL THE CITY LORD HELPS US!”

Soldiers needed no further encouragement. They broke from crumbling defensive positions, falling back in groups rather than individual flight.

Some helped wounded comrades, others covered their withdrawal with archer fire.

Ethan dashed to Ruan’s side, lifting the general. Blood soaked into his clothing where Ruan’s wounds pressed against him.

“Leave me,” the general rasped. “I’ll slow you down.”

“Not happening.”

Ethan accelerated toward the inner district, Enhanced Speed activating despite the extra burden.

His silver eyes remained fixed on Han, tracking the general’s battle even as he retreated.

The behemoth roared behind them, its massive body pursuing with surprising speed for something so large. Buildings collapsed in its wake, creating a path of destruction that carved through the Second District like a physical wound.

Citizens who had believed themselves safe behind the inner walls now fled in terror, clutching children and precious belongings as they abandoned homes.

The streets filled with panicked civilians, creating human obstacles that slowed Ethan’s progress despite his speed.

Then something changed.

A pressure descended upon the battlefield, so dense it seemed to compress the very air. Ethan’s senses detected it first—a silver aura of staggering intensity emanating from the First District.

Ruan’s head snapped up, pain momentarily forgotten. “That aura…”

Relief washed across his blood-streaked face, tension draining from his battered body.

“The City Lord,” he whispered. “Lord Ezekiel has come.”

Ethan paused mid-stride, shifting the general’s body to better observe what approached. The aura radiated power beyond anything he’d encountered—silver energy honed to its absolute peak.

A streak of silver light cut through the chaos, moving with speed that rivaled Ethan’s. It zeroed in on the behemoth with deadly precision, carrying an axe that gleamed with concentrated power.

The City Lord.

His attack should have ended the battle instantly.

Should have.

Instead, something small and brown erupted from the behemoth’s mouth. It moved with impossible speed, intercepting the silver streak with a swing of what appeared to be… a wooden staff?

The collision released a shockwave that shattered every window within five hundred meters.

Dust cleared to reveal two figures locked in combat. The City Lord—a man appearing in his late thirties, though his true age remained unknowable—pressed his axe against a wooden staff wielded by a creature barely a meter tall.

A monkey.

Not just any monkey. Its fur shimmered with silver energy, eyes gleaming with intelligence that bordered on mockery as it matched the City Lord’s strength.

<Ferocious Beast: Lazy Monkey>

<Staff Talent: C->

<Rank: Peak-Silver>

“Impossible,” Ruan breathed.

The City Lord’s features hardened into cold fury. “You made me stop my breakthrough to the gold rank. I would’ve finally been able to have contact with the world spirit and become a junior city lord.”

His silver aura intensified. “You will pay with your life.”

World spirit? Junior city lord?

Ethan’s mind processed these unfamiliar terms, connecting them to fragments of information gathered throughout his journey.

But nothing of significance came up. Still it seemed quite important.

So that’s why he hasn’t appeared before. The behemoth forced his hand.

Everything started making sense.

The City Lord’s absence during the initial attack, his delayed response even as districts fell. He hadn’t been negligent—he’d been occupied with something transcendent.

A breakthrough to Gold rank.

While we fought for our lives, he was seeking personal advancement.

Ethan had abandoned the fight against the behemoth precisely because he’d expected the City Lord to intervene.

He’d just never imagined the intervention had been deliberately delayed for personal gain.

Ruan straightened, draining a healing potion with desperate urgency.

The magical liquid knitted his worst injuries, stemming blood flow and reconnecting severed tissues. Not a complete recovery, but enough to stand unassisted.

“I can fight,” he declared, silver aura flickering back to life around his spear.

The monkey grinned, revealing teeth too sharp for an herbivore. It spun its staff with flourish that blurred the simple wood into a circular shield of energy.

“Too slow, too slow!” it chittered, voice surprisingly deep for its diminutive size. “City Lord? More like City Fraud!”

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