Henry stood up, brushing the dust off his coat, a sinister chuckle rumbling from his throat. "Did I hit a nerve, or maybe your fragile ego?" he taunted, a twisted grin spreading across his face. He eyed Johnatan with a mixture of amusement and disdain, relishing the opportunity to provoke him.
Johnatan, unfazed, met Henry's gaze with a smile of his own—one that was both confident and menacing.
"Well, congratulations,"
he replied with a smirk,
"you've made this man furious and ready to pummel you to until there's nothing left."
With a flourish, Henry drew his pirate sword, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light of the cave.
"I'm not some pushover,"
he declared, his voice filled with arrogance.
"Since coming to this world, I've gained power beyond your imagination."
He revealed a red emblem on his arm, encircled by a bold, dark ring.
The system in Johnatan's mind activated, providing him with critical information. "Henry's emblem is red, indicating his adeptness in melee combat. The circle shape signifies a Great Emblem, placing his level between 120 and 129."
Johnatan remained unfazed, his expression calm and confident.
"Interesting,"
he murmured, his grip tightening on his sword. The two warriors launched at each other, their swords clashing with astonishing speed, moving faster than the eye could see. Each strike sent shockwaves through the cave, their blades moving at speeds that surpassed the sound barrier.
As they fought, Henry couldn't resist the urge to berate Johnatan.
" You were always weak, Johnatan," he sneered.
"Even now, you're nothing compared to me. I've become a force to be reckoned with—a Great Marshall of alevion"
Johnatan, maintaining his focus in his flow state, found an opening and delivered a swift slash across Henry's chest. Henry staggered back slightly, a deep wound forming on his torso. But before Johnatan could press the advantage, the wound began to close, healing almost instantaneously.
Henry chuckled darkly as his injuries vanished.
"You see?"
he boasted, spreading his arms wide.
"No matter how many times you strike, I'll always heal. That's my skillset—the Great Marshall of Healing. I am invincible."
Johnatan couldn't help but chuckle at the declaration.
"Great Marshall of Healing? That's a pretty lame name for a skillset,"
he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His expression shifted into a menacing smile, his eyes narrowing with a deadly intent.
"But I'll tell you what, Henry,"
he continued, his voice low and dangerous.
"I'm going to enjoy this. I'll cut you a thousand times I would love to. I won't even use my chaos damage—it would end you far too quickly. No, I'll just use my ordinary physical attacks. To take advantage of your healing abilities and torture you before I end you."
Henry's face twisted in anger, his ego bruised by Johnatan's mocking words. His smile turned into a furious snarl, and his grip tightened on his sword.
"You think you're that strong, don't you?"
he growled, his voice seething with rage.
"I'll show you what it means to face a true warrior!"
Johnatan and Henry continued their fierce battle, swords clashing in the air as they leaped and spun through the cavern. With each exchange, Johnatan's strength and speed became more apparent. His eyes glowed a pure white, and his grin grew maniacal as he relentlessly drove Henry back.
Henry, once confident in his abilities, found himself struggling. He tried to parry and counterattack, but Johnatan's blows came faster and harder, each one more powerful than the last. The sheer force of Johnatan's strikes was overwhelming. For every one of Henry's moves, Johnatan had ten. It wasn't long before Henry could no longer keep up.
In mid-air, with a sudden burst of speed, Johnatan swung his sword with the flat of the blade, striking Henry across the side. The impact sent Henry hurtling downwards, slamming into the ground with a resounding crash. The rocky floor cracked beneath him, dust and debris flying up in a cloud around his fallen form.
Henry lay sprawled on the ground, panting heavily. His body was covered in cuts and bruises from Johnatan's onslaught. His healing ability, which he had once believed made him invincible, now struggled to keep up with the sheer volume of injuries he had sustained. Each wound closed more slowly than the last, the once-rapid regeneration now faltering under the strain.
Hovering above, Johnatan looked down on Henry with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction.
"Is that all you've got, old man?"
he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.
"In fact, I could have beaten you even in our past lives. Back then, I respected you, so I didn't fight back. But here and now, there's no one to call for help. You're all alone, and even I'm holding back."
Before Henry could muster a response, a new presence arrived. Laron emerged from the shadows, his expression grim.
"The pirates have been eliminated,"
he reported. His voice was steady, but his eyes were blazing with fury. As he approached, he caught sight of Henry lying on the ground, broken and battered. Recognition flickered in his eyes, and his fists clenched at his sides.
Seeing Henry in such a state stirred something deep within Laron. Old memories surfaced—memories of pain and suffering, of past injustices. Anger welled up inside him, his face twisting with rage. It was clear that he had his own reasons for hating Henry, reasons that went beyond the current battle.
Laron's voice was low, almost a growl.
"So, this is the infamous Henry,"
he said, his tone cold and filled with resentment.
"The man who thought he was above everyone else. I've waited a long time to see you brought down."
Johnatan stood over the defeated Henry, his eyes burning with both satisfaction and a lingering hatred. But something in his demeanor shifted when he turned to Laron.
"Do you know this man?"
he asked, his tone more curious than confrontational.
Laron's face contorted with anger as he stared at Henry.
"Know him?" Laron spat, his voice thick with venom.
"This is Grand Marshall Henrald, one of Eduard Stan's commanders. He was ruthless in his time—a tyrant who inflicted immense suffering on our people, . He enslaved us, forced us into labor for the rest of our lives, and he... he's the one who raped and killed my mother, while forcing my father to watch them commit horrors before ending them both."
Johnatan's expression softened as he listened to Laron's words. He now understood the depth of Laron's anger and resentment.
"I see,"
he said quietly.
"Then it seems you have a score to settle with him."
Stepping back, Johnatan sheathed his sword.
"Laron, I'm giving you the right to finish this," he said.
"I have something more pressing to attend to."
Laron's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and confusion crossing his face.
"What could be more important than this?" he asked, his voice barely masking his emotions.
Johnatan turned his attention to Myra, who had been silently watching the scene unfold.
"Myra,"
he called out,
"I need you to transform back into your water dragon form. Can you do that quickly?"
Myra nodded confidently.
"Simple as cake,"
she replied, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Johnatan's expression grew serious.
"There's something I sensed—an ominous creature lurking underwater in the well behind the rock throne. I need to investigate it, and I'll need your speed in the water to get there."
Laron furrowed his brow, glancing from Johnatan to the rock throne.
"An ominous creature?"
he echoed.
"What kind of creature are we talking about?"
Johnatan shook his head.
"I don't know exactly. But its presence is powerful, even more so than Henry's. It radiates the same kind of aura as him, which makes me think Henry might be drawing his strength from it."
Without another word, Myra transformed into her massive water dragon form, her scales shimmering as they caught the faint light of the cavern. She lowered herself so Johnatan could climb onto her back.
Laron's eyes followed them as they prepared to dive into the depths.
"Be careful,"
he warned, his voice heavy with concern.
"If this creature is as strong as you say, you might be walking into another trap."
Johnatan nodded, a determined look on his face.
"I know. But we can't afford to leave any threats unchecked. I trust you to handle things here."
With that, Myra launched herself into the air and dove into the water with Johnatan on her back, the two of them disappearing beneath the dark surface. The water rippled briefly, then stilled, leaving Laron alone with his thoughts—and with Henry.
Laron turned his attention back to Henry, who was still struggling to stand, his body battered and his face contorted in pain.
"It's just you and me now,"
Laron said coldly, his hands igniting with flame.
"And you have a lot to answer for."
Laron sat down on the rocky ground, his breath steadying as he calmed himself. He watched Henry's battered body twitch and convulse, slowly recovering through the agonizingly slow process of his healing ability.
"I'll wait for you to recover,"
Laron said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"It wouldn't be right to finish you off when you're like this."
Henry's eyes flickered with both confusion and fear as he lay on the ground.
"Why… why would you give me time to heal?"
he grunted, struggling to push himself up.
Laron's eyes were cold and unyielding as he gazed at Henry.
"When I was a child,"
he began, his voice low and steady,
"I lost both of my parents because of you. I swore that one day, I would get my revenge. For years, I harbored a burning hatred for you, a need to see you suffer for the pain you caused."
Henry chuckled weakly, his lips curling into a sneer.
"So, you're just like the rest of them—thirsty for revenge."
Laron shook his head slowly.
"Not quite. You see, time has a way of changing things. Now, after many decades of suffering under human hands, my people are finally beginning to find some semblance of peace. We're trying to live good lives, free from the horrors of our past. I no longer hate you as I once did. Now, I only pity you."
Henry's face twisted into a mockery of a grin.
"Pity me? You're the one who's still trapped under the thumb of a human. Johnatan may be your so-called master, but he's just a bastard with no future—a man who lacks everything necessary to lead."
Laron's expression remained unchanged, his eyes narrowing slightly. As Henry's insults continued, a cold, terrifying aura began to emanate from him. The air around him seemed to grow heavy, and the ground beneath him cracked slightly under the pressure of his restrained power.
Henry's grin faltered, and his voice caught in his throat. He felt a chill run down his spine as he stared into Laron's eyes, his own fear growing with every passing second.
"You don't understand,"
Laron said calmly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Johnatan is no ordinary man. He is not just my master, but someone who has shown me a new way of life—one not driven by hatred or revenge. However, you've insulted him, and for that, you will pay."
Henry tried to respond, but no words came out. He was paralyzed with fear, unable to look away from Laron's intense gaze.
"Don't worry, Henry,"
Laron continued, his tone almost soothing.
"I won't kill you quickly. Once you're fully healed, I'll make sure you feel every ounce of pain, every bit of anguish and despair, that you've inflicted on others. You'll experience all the suffering you've caused my people—and so many others—slowly, painfully. You'll wish you had never crossed paths with me or my kind."
Henry's eyes widened in terror as he realized the full extent of Laron's words. The Primeval wasn't just going to kill him; he was going to make him suffer—a fate worse than death.
As Laron sat and waited for Henry to heal, the cave fell silent, save for the distant echoes of the ongoing battle outside. Henry could do nothing but lay there, dreading the moment when his body would be whole again.
Deep in the underwater cave, the dark, murky waters pressed heavily around Johnatan and Myra as they swam deeper. Despite the crushing pressure, Johnatan's superhuman abilities allowed him to withstand it longer than any ordinary human. His lungs expanded to their maximum capacity, and he could hold his breath for nearly an hour, but he could still feel the strain as they descended further into the abyss.
"Myra,"
Johnatan communicated through telepathy, his thoughts calm but urgent.
"Can you sense it too? The creature… it's close."
Myra, gliding effortlessly through the water, nodded.
"Yes, I can feel its presence. It's massive and powerful… but we have to keep going. Are you ready?"
"Always,"
Johnatan replied.
"We have to act fast. My lung capacity isn't infinite, and the deeper we go, the more pressure I have to endure."
As they continued their dive, the system in Johnatan's mind chimed in with a warning.
"Alert: Water pressure is reducing strength and speed by 30%. Your combat effectiveness will be impaired in this environment."
Johnatan acknowledged the warning.
"Understood,"
he thought, knowing that he'd have to rely on his wits and Myra's natural affinity with water to overcome the challenges ahead.
With a shared determination, they surged downward toward the creature's lair, the water growing colder and darker as they approached.
---
Back in the cave, Laron stood over Henry, who had finally managed to recover from his injuries. Henry's eyes gleamed with malice as he sat up, his body still aching from Johnatan's relentless attacks.
"Your master is a fool,"
Henry sneered, his voice filled with scorn.
"He's charging into his own demise. That creature he's heading for? It's no ordinary monster. It's Bellion, a kraken underling of Cthulon. It devours the souls of anyone foolish enough to enter its domain."
Laron listened silently, his face impassive as Henry continued.
"And you, Laron? You think you can beat me? I've got news for you—I'm stronger than ever. Bellion has given me power beyond anything you've seen before!"
As Henry spoke, his body began to convulse and mutate, muscles bulging grotesquely as his form transformed. His sword, once a separate weapon, melted and fused with his hands, creating a monstrous amalgamation of flesh and steel. His laughter echoed through the cave, a horrible, grating sound that sent chills down the spines of anyone who heard it.
Laron, however, remained unfazed. His eyes never left Henry's hideous new form as he calmly replied,
"Is that all you've got, Henry? Do you really think that this borrowed power will save you? I've grown stronger too, and I have something you never will—a clear purpose and the strength of my convictions."
With that, Laron's own aura began to flare, a fiery energy that crackled around him like a living thing.
"Come then,"
he said, with laron in his fighting stance and magic circle above his palms
The battle between Laron and Henry erupted into a fierce exchange of power and might. The cavern shook with every clash, the echoes of their combat reverberating through the dark, damp cave walls.
Laron, standing firm, started the battle with a basic fireball spell, hurling it directly at Henry. The glowing orb of flame illuminated the cave as it sped toward its target. Henry smirked and, with a swift movement of his weapon, deflected the fireball harmlessly to the side, sending sparks scattering across the rocky ground.
Unfazed, Laron moved on to his next attack. He summoned a chain lightning, the crackling bolt of electricity arcing from his fingertips toward Henry. The lightning struck Henry squarely, but he merely grunted, his mutated form absorbing the shock with a sneer of contempt.
Laron's expression didn't change. Without a moment's hesitation, he unleashed a barrage of water bullets, each one moving at lightning speed toward Henry. As the bullets approached, Henry raised his arms and absorbed the water into his skin, his laugh echoing through the cave. "Is that all you've got, Laron? All your attacks are useless against me! Bellion's power makes me invincible!"
Laron smirked, his calm demeanor unwavering.
"Invincible, you say? Then be prepared to witness the true nature of my powers."
With a swift motion, he raised his hands and began to channel his energy. The air around him crackled with anticipation as he activated his newly unlocked skillset:
"Great Elementalist."
Henry, sensing the shift in Laron's power, charged forward with a roar, his weapon ready to strike. But Laron was faster. He cast a spell that combined elements in a way Henry had never seen before. Water bullets formed in the air, their surfaces sparking with electricity.
"Conductor Bullets," Laron declared as he released the barrage.
The electrified water bullets flew toward Henry, striking him with a force that sent him stumbling backward. Each bullet pierced his flesh, and the electric current surged through his body, causing him to howl in agony.
"Not yet,"
Laron said coldly, his voice echoing in the cave. He raised his hands again, manipulating the surrounding rock formations. Chunks of stone lifted into the air, glowing as Laron infused them with fire, transforming them into molten lava balls. With a swift gesture, he hurled the molten rocks at Henry.
Henry screamed as the lava hit him, searing his flesh. He tried to recover, but Laron wasn't finished. Using his control over the elements, Laron manipulated the rock formations to grip Henry's lower body, immobilizing him. Then, combining air and fire, Laron generated a fierce burning tornado. The vortex of flame and wind engulfed Henry, battering him around and burning his skin with intense heat.
Laron watched, his eyes cold and determined.
"And now, for the final attack,"
he murmured. Gathering all his energy, he summoned a massive lightning bolt and hurled it directly at the burning tornado. The bolt struck with a thunderous crack, causing a massive energy explosion. The blast rocked the cave, and a blinding light filled the space as Henry's screams were abruptly cut off.
When the light faded, there was nothing left but scorched earth and smoke where Henry had stood. His monstrous form was gone, vaporized by the combined might of Laron's elemental fury.