Chapter 79: Marcus and Cynthia (8)
Meanwhile...
Marcus gritted his teeth, his breath ragged as he fought against the endless, unyielding tide of watery opponents. The battlefield around him shimmered and churned—waves crashing unnaturally sideways, figures forming from the liquid all around them.
He ducked low, sweat flying from his brow as a razor-sharp trident narrowly missed impaling his skull. The wind from the strike hissed past his ear, and he rolled with the momentum, twisting around to retaliate with a sharp mana-infused punch.
"Isn’t this..." he muttered between breaths, limbs burning, lungs aflame, "...the dimension where Cynthia gets her power in the game?"
He pivoted on his heel, sidestepping an enemy just in time to drive his elbow into its chest, which burst into a splash of cursed water. Another figure lunged at him from the left—he spun and delivered a mana-coated roundhouse, shattering it mid-form.
"But that’s supposed to be in the later parts... this shouldn’t happen during the Trial of Pairs arc," he grumbled, tossing a fire-infused blast over his shoulder. It detonated with a hiss, sending steam and shredded enemies flying behind him.
The air smelled like scorched brine and ozone.
"Did my choices really affect the game that much...?" Marcus continued, voice cracking under strain. Mana crackled around him like a second skin, wild and unstable. His shirt clung to his body, soaked in sweat and water, every muscle trembling from overuse.
Still, he didn’t stop.
He didn’t dare stop.
"This is a good place to farm EXP... but at the same time... this body can’t handle this much prolonged fighting for long!" he shouted, force-summoning a pair of glowing pistols on his hands. With an expert flick, he unloaded mana-charged rounds into the crowd, each impact bursting like grenades on contact.