Nitin charges towards the Gravash, while the Gravash does the same. Nitin channels all his Pbv into his fist, consumed by rage and completely ignoring his surroundings. The Gravash attacks Nitin with its tail like a whip. Nitin counters with his punch, but he is too weak at this point and gets blown away. All the remaining soldiers and Livio's friends are in the same dire situation—none of them are standing. The battlefield is drenched in blood, filled with soldiers crying and begging for help. Nitin lies on the ground, barely conscious. The Gravash approaches him and leaps, aiming to devour him. Just as it is about to strike, a blue flame appears out of nowhere, vaporizing the Gravash instantly.
"Okay, you guys have done enough. I congratulate all the survivors," says General Blackwood, covered in blue armor, as he arrives to protect Nitin.
"General... bastards..... Now, I think we served their purpose," Nitin murmurs, barely lifting his neck.
The Gravash and Velocirians heading toward Sebastian's group are suddenly severed in mid-air.
"What the hell just happened?" Sebastian's rage dissipates, replaced by confusion.
"Good work. Now leave everything to us," says General Stormbraker as he arrives. Sebastian, still clenching his teeth, and the rest of the group, tightening their fists, watch in disbelief.
A large group of Velocirians advances toward the wounded soldiers.
"No, please spare us. We have families," cries a soldier crawling on one leg.
"No, don't—ahhhhhhh! Help!" screams another soldier as a Gravash devours him. A photo of a little girl falls from the soldier's pocket, now stained in blood.
Another soldier runs, only to be captured by Velocirians and taken mid-air. Suddenly, blood rains down. Some soldiers sit motionless, unbothered by the chaos. A Gravash stares them in the face, but they've already accepted their fate. Before the Gravash can strike, gusts of wind in the shape of blades cut through them.
A golden-armored general with wings on his back and a chainsaw for a hand lands, finishing off the Gravash. It's Mr. Dawnshield.
The lifeless soldiers begin to smile, tears streaming down their faces.
"Flashy as usual, isn't that right, Dawnshield?" remarks Wolfsbane, arriving with a look of disdain.
The soldiers begin touching the generals' feet.
"Alright, alright. You guys don't have to die anymore because we're here to save you," Wolfsbane assures them, pulling back his hair stylishly.
"Thank you, sir. You are a god," cries a soldier, bowing.
Another kisses Wolfsbane's feet. "Sir, I am truly happy."
"Enough already, Wolfsbane," says Dawnshield, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't try to steal my limelight, Dawnshield," Wolfsbane retorts, pushing his hand away as they glare at each other.
"You bastards, attack together!" shouts the Elf.
All the soldiers start sweating.
"What the.... that bastard isn't finished," Nitin mutters, struggling to see.
As Nitin lay on the bloodstained ground, struggling to move, Sebastian's group caught sight of him and rushed to his aid without hesitation. One by one, the remnants of Nitin's group staggered over, their bodies battered and their spirits crushed, consumed by the weight of their losses. The air hung heavy with silence—words had abandoned them, leaving only the shared burden of grief. Slowly, the rest of their surviving friends gathered as well, their presence a somber testament to the cost of the battle.
"Don't push yourself. Just rest," say Sebastian and Viktor, rushing to support him.
"You guys…... what happened to the others?" Nitin asks desperately, looking into their eyes.
Oliver looks away, and the rest remain silent.
Nitin realizes they are the only survivors of their group. Sebastian sits on the ground, plucking grass and crying. Tomasz pats Matteo's back, while Luka gazes at the sky.
As they sat together, battered and broken, Nitin finally spoke, his voice low and trembling. "We were nothing but pawns to them—disposable, meaningless."
No one replied, but the haunted looks in their eyes said enough. Silent nods passed between them, their shared grief and rage binding them more tightly than words ever could.
A red dragon circles the battlefield. The king, Valens, sets down his glass and rises.
"I think it's time," Valens says, snapping his neck side to side.
He leaps from the dragon, landing in the center of the battlefield, stirring a cloud of dust.
Everyone watches in silence as the dust settles, revealing Valens standing tall. All the Gravash and Velocirians shift their focus, charging at him.
"Look out, King!" a soldier yells.
Valens doesn't flinch. Two Gravash unleash their tail whips, but they stop upon contact with him—no impact, as if everything is being absorbed.
"What.... that bastard is going to be crushed!" Viktor mutters, sweating.
Nitin and Ethan gape in shock.
"What was that? Is he using his ability?" Ethan asks, focusing intently.
"What kind of ability is that? There's no impact pressure; it shouldn't be possible," Nitin says, struggling to sit up despite his wounds.
A Gravash leaps at Valens. He stops it mid-air with just his right hand.
"What? The ground didn't even crack. That's clearly not raw strength," Oliver mutters, grinding his teeth in focus.
Valens absorbs hit after hit from the Gravash, standing unbothered.
"Finally, let's begin. Stormbraker and the others, take care of the Velocirians," Valens orders.
"Finally, some action," Wolfsbane says, rushing into battle.
"Idiot as usual. Hey, Blackwood," Dawnshield calls.
"Yes, what is it?" Blackwood asks, cutting down Velocirians.
"Do you have the poison knife?" Dawnshield inquires.
"Yes, I kept it safe. We should deliver it to the King now," Blackwood responds, rushing toward Valens.
The Gravash retreat at the Elf's command and charge at Valens together.
"Pests are pests, no matter their numbers," Valens mutters, punching the lead Gravash. The impact blows away the entire horde, clearing the forest behind them.
Everyone freezes, awe-struck by the power gap between themselves and the King.
"He deliberately let himself get attacked. Now that he's absorbed enough, he's retaliating," Nitin and Ethan realize simultaneously.
Valens examines his fist. "I didn't absorb enough."
The Elf leaps toward Valens.
"You bastard!" he shouts.
Valens prepares but is engulfed by a storm before the Elf can strike.
The wind subsides, revealing Valens unharmed.
"Thanks, Blackwood," Valens says, pulling out his right hand from behind.
Blackwood stands beside Nitin's group. Wolfsbane joins him.
"Thank God I delivered it before Shesha was completed," Blackwood sighs in relief.
"You're right. Once Shesha is complete, no matter how strong you are, your ability won't work," Wolfsbane says, crossing his arms.
"Only players with intense training can lay Shesha, and only Pbv masters can expand it to a 50-meter radius. Inside Shesha, abilities are useless. The only hope is close combat skill and Pbv usage," Blackwood explains, clenching his fists.
"Now we'll see the boss's close combat skills. Don't worry—he'll win," Wolfsbane laughs creepily.
"Shesha is a technique all players can learn through rigorous training. It nullifies abilities, but it's a gamble since your own abilities won't work," Oliver observes as the battle begins.