An Extra’s POV - Chapter 331

Chapter 331: The Dark Gathering [Pt 9]
‘Looking at this guy’s Status Window, he has a bunch of interesting Skills. Same as the other two…’

Rey began to consider the possibilities of what could be as he looked at Fenrir, Ladon, and Enry.

‘All three possess nice abilities.’ A smile coursed through his face as he finally stopped his advance.

“You three should work together. If you can land a single hit on me, I’ll let you go.”

Instantly Fenrir shot him a look of surprise, as one would expect, but Rey didn’t bother explaining himself any further.

Using his [Absolute Spatial Domain], he teleported Ladon from where he was—away from the bunch—and brought him right beside Fenrir and the Black Magician.

With all three characters right in front of him, he repeated his words.

“Attack me. If you can land a single hit on me, I’ll let you live.”

“B-but how could we possibly…” Enry stuttered, making this the first time he was hearing the Mage’s voice.

It sounded so pure and innocent, a sharp contrast compared to the kind of person they were.

‘I don’t have time for this.’ Rey rolled his eyes and decided on the second option.

‘[Absolute Mental Control].’ His eyes glowed as he activated the Skill.

The moment he did this, Fenrir and co fell under his ability.

“Rise.”

They all rose to their feet, like puppets that were being expertly controlled by a professional.

“Fight me like you mean it. Use every Skill at your disposal.”

The three, all having blank expressions on their faces, instantly took stances for combat. It felt a little invigorating seeing them act this way.

‘Now I see why Belle was so obsessed with using her [Grand Charm] on everyone. It’s pretty useful.’

Rey didn’t really like using mental attacks on people, since he found it to be intrusive. However, he had already solidified his resolve against people like these.

If he could kill them, then surely controlling their minds wasn’t out of the options for him.

Besides, with [Dead Calm] still activated, he didn’t feel any emotional or moral weight based on his actions.

He just did what had to be done.

“Begin.”

**********

Fenrir was frightened.

‘W-what am I doing…?!’

He found his body to be moving on its own, with him being powerless to stop it.

It felt like he was seeing with his very eyes, and he was feeling every sensation that occurred within and without his body.

But… he could not control anything.

He was paralyzed, forced to see everything that would play out; a prisoner in his own flesh.

“[Greater Fiery Power]. [Greater Pure Boost]. [Greater Iron Fortress]. [War Cry]. [Beast Mode].” He heard himself mutter.

As expected, power swole within him, sending ripples of energy dancing all around his immediate surroundings.

As shockwaves rushed from his position, white fur took over his toned skin, turning him into a partial beast.

This was Fenrir at full strength!

From his peripheral vision, he could see his subordinates activate their respective Skills.

The Black Magician’s Skills focused heavily on debuffs and curses, which would essentially be lethal. Skills like; [Poison Magic], [Distortion], [Fear]. [Degrade]… with his only purely offensive Magic being [Shadow Magic].

If they could slow the enemy down with these heavy-hitters, then it was possible to win this battle… or so Fenrir hoped.

As for Ladon, he was mainly focused on offense.

He had the [Weapon Summon] Skill, as well as [Enchant Weapon], [Blazing Strike], and [Amplify].

These Skills, added to the incredible density of his armor, made Ladon incredibly destructive and versatile in multiple weapons and fighting patterns.

Fenrir could already see the Obsidian Blade summoning a few blades, holding one in each hand, while the rest floated in the air as a result of an effect from his [Enchant Weapon].

[Blazing Strike] allowed his blades to go up in flames, increasing their offensive abilities, while [Amplify] improved all of his physical abilities.

With all said and done, Fenrir was still much stronger than Ladon, but the latter was pretty strong himself.

Enry was also done casting his Spells, which caused a shroud of shadows to cover him as a defensive cover while an extremely Poisonous Magic would be sprayed on the target.

‘Enry’s strike will come first…’ Fenrir knew his subordinates well enough to predict that.

After all, The Black Magician would usually use [Fear] to paralyze the enemy—sometimes leading to their deaths—and then alter their perceptions using [Distortion], which practically tricked the mind with auditory and visual illusions.

Afterwards, he would use [Degrade] to wear down the defense or vitality of the opponent, while finishing them off with lethal poison.

For some reason, despite having the ability to make people suffer with his poison, Enry preferred a quick death through a deadly dose.

‘I doubt he’ll die if he’s attacked with the poison, but if Ladon and I strike immediately after, then maybe…’

If they landed one hit, then they would live!

Fenrir wasn’t in control of his body, but he desperately prayed for the success of himself and his allies.

~BOOOOOOOOM!~

The attacks were initiated, and Fenrir’s two captains struck in tandem while he followed suit and dealt the finishing strike.

The entire building trembled, and it even tore the ceiling open.

The Chandelier that was above them came crashing down, sending its glass fragments flying everywhere. The beautiful Crystal-like shards soon became sullied by the blood and gore beneath them.

But none of those mattered.

~WHUSH!~

~VWUUUUM!~

~BOOOOOOOM!~

More strikes and explosions rippled through the area, devastating the furniture that once stood glamorously at the center of the room.

The chairs were devastated, ripped to shreds by the shockwaves alone, and the table was broken into multiple pieces before burning down.

Several more strikes and the ground began to send forth debris.

Fenrir attacked ferociously in wolf form, utilizing a hundred percent of strength in each strike.

However…

“Okay. That’s enough.”

… It was all to no avail.

“I’ve seen enough.” The man called Ralyks told them, his tone a deep lull that told of nothing.

“Farewell then.”