Chapter 77 - The First Official Disciple
As Rygar's supersonic wind bullets tore through the air, they whistled like invisible projectiles, leaving a trail of death and destruction. The enemies tried to flee, but it was futile. Every movement was calculated, every target eliminated with surgical precision. Rygar kept his eyes sharp, his expression frozen in a mask of coldness as his body acted almost instinctively. Yet, something was bothering him.
'Why are these guys so weak?'
It wasn't that they were useless. Compared to ordinary warriors, they were strong—well-trained assassins, coordinated, attacking in numbers, enough to overwhelm individual warriors. Even Ghislaine had needed to retreat from some of their sieges. But for him? For someone who mastered large-scale magic and possessed an arsenal capable of turning the battlefield in the blink of an eye?
It didn't make sense.
His enemies were supposed to know about his lightning magic. They knew about its destructive power. If they were here to kill him, why were they attacking so randomly? Were they just throwing numbers at him without any real strategy? Or was there something he had yet to realize?
As he pondered, his golden eyes scanned the battlefield. No real challenge. Only one Saint-level warrior— the only opponent worthy of attention. He immobilized him with a precise lightning spell, making the enemy's body convulse in spasms before collapsing to the ground, unconscious. Rygar approached, assessing the fallen man for a moment before raising his hand and conjuring earth magic. The ground beneath the warrior split open, swallowing him up to his chest. With a second command, the earth solidified, trapping him firmly.
"I'll have a little chat with him later..."
He turned and continued his pursuit, killing them all with ease. None of them surpassed him in strength or could understand his attacks with the versatility he fought with.
After hunting down and killing almost all of them, he returned to the battlefield's starting point.
Rygar turned, searching for Ghislaine's position. Even outnumbered, the enemies couldn't match her speed, so she simply retreated when surrounded and hunted them down one by one. Her blade left trails of blood across the battlefield, slicing through anyone who dared approach. When only a few survivors remained, she halted the chase and returned to Rygar's side.
Her steps were light, but her gaze still carried the ferocity of battle. As soon as she arrived, her eyes landed on the immobilized Saint-level warrior, arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips.