Chapter 102: Night Of Crimson Slaughter!

“Beast-Form Awakening… interesting,” Bruce murmured.

The recruit roared and vanished in a flash of green, appearing beside Bruce with claws extended…

SWISH!

His strike tore through a boulder behind Bruce, melting the stone surface as if heated by plasma.

Bruce simply tilted his head aside, unimpressed.

“So you’re fast.”

Lightning surged again. The boy appeared behind him, then above him, then to the left, then the right.

Attacks came from every angle, a frenzied storm of claws, electricity, and killing intent.

Bruce blocked each one with a single hand.

Sometimes without looking. Sometimes barely shifting his stance.

Every strike he parried sent shockwaves through the clearing. Thunder cracked across the sky with each blow the boy threw. The power begin the attacks formed gales. Rocks split. Trees snapped like brittle sticks.

But Bruce remained unmoved.

’Strong ability,’ Bruce thought. ’But his foundation is sloppy.’

When the boy leaped back, panting and sweating, Bruce exhaled softly. “That all?”

He vanished.

To the recruit, it felt like the world blinked.

One instant Bruce stood before him, the next, a cold sensation touched his chest.

He looked down.

Bruce’s dagger was already buried through his heart. Clean. Precise. Effortless.

The boy didn’t even get to scream.

His body slumped forward as Bruce pulled the blade free, letting him fall in silence.

Bruce wiped the blood off his dagger with the back of his wrist, eyes unreadable. ’Interesting ability… shame about the user.’

This particular fight was strange from the start of the fight to the end, this particular person has not said a word. It just attacked Bruce like a feral beast.

Sighing, Bruce stepped over the corpse, his expression returning to its usual calm as he scanned the map again.

Dot after dot flickered across the screen.

So many left. So many to kill.

He sheathed his dagger with a soft click.

“Alright…” he said quietly, voice steady. “Next.”

He lifted his wrist and glanced at the map… and then paused, a faint frown forming across his face.

All the dots were gathering together.

Except for one or two solitary ones, the rest were rapidly clustering into a single territory.

Bruce blinked once. Then he smiled.

“So they’re adapting. They’ve realised running and avoiding me isn’t enough… so they’ve decided to form a group.”

He sighed lightly, shoulders dropping in a small shrug. Honestly, He understood them. He couldn’t blame them. After all, he had been terrorising them all day long. This change wasn’t unexpected. This desperate attempt at unity was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

If he were weak like them, he wouldn’t be against such a strategy either. In the end, it was simply another acceptable survival tactic.

To stand against the monster who had been killing recruits back-to-back since the morning, the recruits had all reached the same conclusion: join hands, deal with Bruce first, and stop letting him pick them off one by one. It was the smartest option they had.

Bruce exhaled slowly. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the terrain.

He checked his points: over seven hundred thousand from the recruits he had slaughtered so far.

At the start of the day, the recruits had been killing each other, competing normally. But once they realised Bruce’s kill spree was growing more absurd by the hour, they stopped entirely, instinctively, subconsciously, even unwillingly, and now they’ve began migrating toward one shared location.

To unite. To survive. To make a final stand.

Bruce let them.

He didn’t care. He was even amused.

They could gather all they wanted. Tomorrow, he’d kill them all.

And maybe, after killing them, he’d go find Jean and kill her too.

But that was tomorrow.

Right now… he had something else on his mind. Something he’d wanted to try for a long time.

His eyes narrowed.

Then without hesitation, Bruce raised his own arm and cut it off.

The severed limb fell with a wet thud.

A moment later, flesh knit, bones twisted, and a brand-new arm blossomed into existence as if nothing had happened.

But Bruce wasn’t focused on the regeneration.

He focused on the blood pooling from the cut piece he’d discarded, then healed and manipulated that blood, condensing and enhancing it, working on the scent until the iron-rich aroma became so potent it spread far and wide, saturating the air like a predator’s invitation.

A smelly strong enough to drive every beast mad. A smell that no carnivore can resist.

A lure.

A trap.

With that He waited calmly.

This was his plan. The perfect plan to clear every beast in this trial. Not one would remain.

The smell of Bruce’s blood, so rich, so intoxicating, so utterly unnatural, spread across the savannah like a crimson beacon.

And every beast felt it, every hidden S-Rank beast felt it.

They came. They came to taste it.

And then Bruce spent the entire night slaughtering them.

One after another.

Again and again.

S-Rank Wind Wolves!

S-Rank Laughing Hyenas!!

S-Rank Bloodhounds!!!

S-Rank Golden Mane Lions and their entire pride and packs!!!!

They all came with full force ignoring each other but focusing on the smell alone…

The moon shone coldly above as Bruce fought without pause, cutting down beast after beast, their bodies littering the ground until the earth itself was drenched in their blood. He didn’t rest. He didn’t slow. He didn’t tire. He kept watch, waiting for more, killing more.

From his hidden vantage point back in the real world, Bale watched silently.

He didn’t intervene.

He didn’t empower these beasts like he did with the Golden-Maned Lion before. That had already given him all the data he needed. So now, he simply observed. Enhancing the beasts again would be pointless and frankly, taking things too far. Bruce didn’t need the handicap, not that it would be handicap anyway. Vale had that feeling that Bruce at this point can easily face multiple real S-Ranks as well, but that would be too terrifying, Bale was too scared to test that out… It’s to be known that Bruce is A-rank and without mana core Inn this trial, if he achieves that at such rank, Bale fears he might have a heart attack from how shocking that would be, so he ignored that feeling…

He ignored that absurd feeling that made him think that Bruce can actually face multiple S-Ranks at once…

Meanwhile, the recruits, finally united, used this last night to group up at their chosen location, confident that tomorrow, with their strength in numbers, Bruce would finally meet his end.

Meanwhile, Jean watched the shifting dots with a faint smile. This development worked perfectly for her.

She didn’t believe they could truly kill Bruce. She wasn’t foolish. But if they weakened him, if they drained him, even a little… then she would strike. She would finish what they could not.

Her heart was cold, calculating, waiting in the shadows alone. Watching. Preparing for the perfect moment to leap.

As for Sophie… she remained seated in meditation, calm and unbothered. She felt the shift in the battlefield. She felt the gathering. She felt the tension.

But her mind didn’t waver.

In her heart, her Bruce would always be the strongest!

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