The sky, once still, groaned again.
In the air still pulsing from the aftermath of the last clash, Veskar hovered motionless, his body like an organic statue suspended by an invisible force.But the aura radiating from him had changed—not just the fury of a beast anymore, but a tension like an ancient volcano on the verge of eruption.
Ren, now leaning against a tree trunk with half-disabled armor, squinted upward, eyes sharp and alert.
"Wait... something’s off..."
The sound of bones cracking and exoskeleton groaning echoed like branches snapping.Veskar’s back split open, like flesh being cleaved from the inside—thick black and deep crimson fluid burst out, dripping like molten blood onto the ground below.
From the wound, two crystalline wings began to grow, shaped like pulsing shards of red glass, reflecting light with an unnatural hue, like fire mixed with oil. Each wing strand was laced with dark crimson energy veins, resembling demonic blood vessels.
『Biomass detection: exceeding predicted scale. Veskar has surpassed standard mutant physiology. High probability of... pseudo-ascension.』
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"Ascension...? You mean... he’s leveling up from a living creature to... what?"
Ultro responded, voice heavier than usual.
『Not a creature... more like a vessel for astral power that couldn’t be fully contained.』
"So he’s basically... a living reactor? Forced to evolve using high-tier magic?"
A wave of energy exploded from Veskar’s body, forming a complex, triple-layered magic circle, each ring inscribed with ancient symbols Ren’s system couldn’t even begin to decode.
Ren narrowed his eyes. The red light surrounding Veskar no longer came solely from biological mutation but was now a fusion of magic and alien technology—glowing symbols slashing the air, then pulling themselves into his body one by one.
"...It’s like something’s possessing him."
His body now stood three meters tall, with extra arms growing from beneath his ribs, each bearing layered chitin blades shaped like curved swords. His former dark, hardened skin cracked apart, replaced by gleaming dark red chitin, crystal fibers jutting from his chest and back.
Veskar’s face transformed entirely—his faceplate shattered, revealing a hybrid visage of insect and man, with elongated, razor-toothed jaws and three pairs of glowing orange eyes, reflecting madness and power not his own.
On his back, Veskar’s red crystal wings now vibrated, producing a low-frequency sonic resonance that rippled through the ground like a death tremor. Cracks spread from the center of the fortress, splitting rock and creeping outward like hellish roots.
In the distance, the remaining Elf soldiers began to scream hysterically—not from physical wounds, but from direct assaults on their consciousness. Some stared wide-eyed, others collapsed to their knees clutching their heads, and the rest froze, drooling, unable to form words.
『Master... magic radiation has surpassed the neuro-synchronic threshold. Exposure beyond two minutes may cause central nervous system degradation... effects could be... permanent.』
Ren stayed silent for a moment. His breath grew heavier, but not out of fear.
There was awe... wild and cold. An undefinable feeling—a blend of respect for Veskar’s power, and a boiling challenge rising in his chest.
(So... this is the new limit of mutant evolution. Or a curse?)
Then, slowly, he raised his wounded right hand and pressed the side of his helmet.
"Deploy five defense drones from the western bastion. Now. Bring them to me."
『Command received. Class-N Raptor X Drones en route to your coordinates, Master. ETA: 8 seconds.』
FWOOSH—FWOOSH—FWOOSH!
The sky above trembled, and from the west—through the haze and magical ruins—five falcon-shaped mechanical drones soared in a triangle formation, their plasma jet engines carving blue fire trails into the sky. They flew with surgical precision, halting mid-air above Ren like guardian spirits forged in metal.
The drones lowered, hovering in a tight circle, slowly dropping altitude like sacred birds awaiting the final command from the ruler of the skies.
One by one, Ren touched the head of each drone, his armored hand glowing softly with pale blue light from liquid mithril transmutation energy.
The air around him buzzed violently, like friction between dimensions. In seconds, the drones’ surfaces began to break down—thousands of glowing nano-shards detached from their bodies, sparkling like stardust.
The particles swirled around Ren, forming a metallic vortex that merged into his damaged armor—filling cracks, reforging shattered pieces, embedding new components. His charred left shoulder now glowed with a multi-faceted armor structure, his right arm reassembled with a latest-gen pulse cannon, and his helmet reshaped into a dual-visor with enhanced targeting systems.
Ultro’s voice returned, steadier now.
『Armor regeneration complete. All systems active. Weaponry updated: Pulse Gauntlet V3, modified Skybreaker Fang, two active shoulder launchers. Combat readiness: optimal.』
Ren exhaled deeply, a brief sense of relief blooming in his chest.
(Good thing I didn’t design those drones just for support... but also as emergency spare parts. Humans can’t fight like gods—unless they’ve got a way to rebuild themselves mid-battle.)
He clenched his right fist, servo joints locking in with a heavy, confident mechanical click.
"...Alright, Veskar. You leveled up, so did I."
"Now let’s see... who ends who."
Veskar roared so fiercely the air around him trembled, his cry echoing like a war horn shattering the heavens. His crystal wings snapped open in a single motion, and his body launched forward like a living missile toward Ren—who didn’t flinch, activating his back-thrusters to meet the charge head-on.
As the distance closed in a blink, Ren raised both arms—and from his gauntlets, two plasma blades ignited, glowing blue-white with edges pulsing like energy waves. In an instant, they clashed mid-air—raw biological force versus pure technology—creating a sonic boom that cracked the sky like endless thunder.
Sparks, metal clashes, and energy bursts danced in the sky. Every strike carried annihilating power, and every parry was either the result of calculated combat precision or ancient instinct. They weren’t just fighting—they were composing a destructive symphony that could make the earth itself tremble.
Elsewhere—far from the burning skies—the northeastern battlefield had begun to shift drastically. The Elf forces, who had initially held their ground, were starting to lose momentum, especially after the human army deployed a new presence onto the field—one of the Kingdom of Yordan’s finest knights.
Clad in striking black-and-red armor with a massive sword strapped to his back, the knight tore through the Elven frontlines with a single swing. He wasn’t just a powerful warrior—he was a symbol of terror, one that swiftly shattered the defensive troops’ morale.
King Yordan, watching from behind his protective formation, grinned with satisfaction. "Keep pushing... Show those elves who truly owns this forest!"
With their top knight now leading the charge, the human army’s strength surged. Their assault became a tsunami, crashing against Elven defenses relentlessly—tearing through line after line under constant pressure.
Atop the defensive walls, Princess Elaria steadied her breath. Her fingers moved with practiced precision as she drew her longbow, now infused with wind spirit magic—each arrow flying like a bolt of green lightning, slicing through the morning sky.
But the tension turned into immediate danger when a massive shadow leapt high and landed beside her with a thunderous crash. Dust and shattered stone burst into the air. Elaria turned instinctively—and her face went pale.
A man in full armor stood tall, his black metal gleaming under the morning sun. On his chest glowed the emblem of the Yordan Kingdom, pulsing like an open wound. In his hand, a massive spiked steel mace.
"Well, well... hello, bitch," the man said with a deep, scornful voice that cut through the morning air like a blade to the pride.
Elaria clenched her teeth, snapping into a ready stance. "Kuh... Dolam!"
One of her Elven guards nearby stepped forward immediately, trying to shield the princess. "Your Highness! I—"
But before the sentence could finish, Dolam had already swung his massive mace with brutal force. The sickening crack of breaking bones echoed as the deadly weapon smashed into the elf’s body, slamming him to the ground with horrifying impact.
"—Get back!" Elaria shouted, eyes wide in horror—but it was already too late.
The ground quaked from the blow, and her guard now lay motionless, partially buried beneath rubble from the shattered wall. Blood seeped slowly from beneath his armor, mixing with the dust of war.
Dolam hoisted the mace with one hand, as if it weighed no more than a wooden staff. He glanced at Elaria with a gaze filled with arrogance and contempt. "Tch... So fragile. Is this all your guards amount to now?"
Elaria bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Fear gripped her chest, but the fire in her eyes didn’t fade—it only burned brighter in the face of the enemy who had once humiliated her in the shadows.
Dolam stepped forward, each heavy footfall shaking the earth beneath them. The grind of his armor matched the fury in his voice, and his eyes gleamed with seething hatred. "You never should’ve run from our basecamp, bitch... You’ll see—because of your selfishness, they will suffer. More than you could ever imagine."
The tip of Elaria’s bow trembled—not from fear, but from the overwhelming fury crushing her chest. She stared straight at Dolam, every bitter memory burning behind her eyes. "The only ego as big as the sky here... is yours!" she shouted, drawing her bowstring so tight it nearly snapped, wind spirits beginning to swirl violently around her.
Dolam roared, "AAAAH!" and charged like a rampaging giant gone berserk. His mace lifted high, ready to crush anything in his path.
Wind spiraled around Elaria, her dress whipping in the gusts, and the arrow in her bow began to glow—bright and deadly with magic.
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