OLD-WORLD EXTRA

Unlike the priests Emir had met, this one's hair was a dimmer white, dirtier, while his eyes were brown instead of the usual white.

It was almost as if he was mid-transformation, newly brought into their fanatical fold.

A man who only recently became a priest, not yet deserving of the title.

Sofia had realized that, and she wasn't the only one who realized something.

The others had finally, after a full second of silence, caught on to the fact that they were being attacked.

"Tell me your name, you bastard!"

Max, unlike usual, didn't instantly attack but asked a question, or rather, he commanded an answer, taking a note of Sofia's book.

It was a command that surprised everyone in his cohort.

'Why the hell would someone who tried to assassinate a student answer that?'

A variation of that question appeared in all their minds.

Yet their surprise didn't stop there.

The man actually answered his question, his eyes returning to his target:

"Album. A man of Templar. A priest. "

Those words marked the end of their short conversation as Album stepped towards Sofia.

His first step covered half the distance between them, and in that time, she threw away her anti-material rifle.

His second step landed him directly in front of her, and she managed to take her pistol out.

He swung, and she pressed the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

At the last moment, Sofia had moved the muzzle slightly, aiming at his arm.

The first of the three bullets she dumped into his arm had slowed the attack, not injuring him.

The second hit exactly where the last landed, going skin-deep.

The third tore through muscle, reaching the bone and pushing his hand back entirely.

Feeling that pain, Album smiled, his body flinching back.

Then, without a word, he further flicked his injured right arm, launching the bullet out of him. The wound almost instantly healed, appearing like nothing had happened.

All that happened in under a second.

"Nice one. Try again."

Tightly clutching the staff with the same hand, he swung again.

Befuddled, Sofia tried to repeat what happened last time, but Album had another plan.

His left hand hovered over her pistol, his palm covering the muzzle.

The world immediately slowed for her.

It was a feeling a talented few experienced just before death.

Not on the level of Emir's Temporal Perception, but somewhere close.

Their thoughts would move at an incredibly fast rate, making it seem like the world had slowed.

Sofia experienced exactly that, understanding it for what it was and coming up with the only two viable options.

Blast his hand away and eventually shoot his body while dodging his attack at the same time, or simply retreat, avoiding both his attacks and the Metalzillas that were approaching from behind.

The correct option was obvious from an outsider's point of view, but to someone in her predicament, it certainly wasn't easy.

While she would damage him in the first scenario, he would be healed back up before she could even blink.

This priest appeared to be a Zenith Warden.

Sofia hadn't known that healers could be this aggressive; it was something entirely different from what she was taught.

Ava was the same; rather, she reacted much more to the sight of his fully healed hand.

What she always complained about had just been disapproved right in front of her.

It was a surprising sight.

Emir had told them about it and even encouraged them to pursue such a path, but none of them did.

The Zenith Warden professors they had back at the Academy couldn't replicate this, so they deemed it impossible.

But... they should've known.

In this world, the impossible was often achieved.

The word had almost lost its meaning.

Sofia only hoped that it would be the case for them as well.

Her decision had arrived, and she chose the safer option.

"Rapid Retreat."

She disappeared, reappearing high in the air, outside the train tracks.

Album glanced at her, then at the Metalzillas approaching him.

Ignoring Max, Arthur, and Ava, he dove into their nest, swinging his staff like a club, too fast

for their eyes to see.

Each swing struck true, smashing the monsters' heads in and killing them at once.

They were four-cored Fiends, but in front of him, they seemed like younglings with dormant

cores.

But as fast as he was, a few monsters had still managed to reach him.

They took small chunks out of his body, their teeth tearing through the augmented suit- turned-cloak as well as his skin and muscle.

Blood began to seep onto the ground, dripping down what remained of his cloak, yet he didn't appear a slight bit affected.

He wailed down on them until every single monster was on the ground.

They were all killed in seconds.

Their metal scales did nothing to protect them even as they latched onto him, their teeth digging into his body.

Raaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwr-!

Ending the life of the last one inside the nest, Album grabbed the lizards' heads that still latched onto his body, ripping them off him and crushing them beneath his hands.

Then slowly, he turned around, and his eyes landed on the cohort.

They now stood in formation, prepared to face him, each their own stance, several emotions

visible on their faces. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Despite their efforts to appear unfazed, the shock was apparent.

They had seen what he was capable of, and though they tried to hide it, fear lingered in their

eyes.

His own blood painted the ground red, yet he appeared no different than earlier.

If one defined him, perhaps they'd notice that he was even stronger, all warmed up.

They had faced strong opponents before, mainly Emir, but this was different.

This monster was unchained and unknown.

No amount of studying had repaired them for this.

The way Album, a healer, fought was a mystery to them.

He was uncaring for his body; whether it would get shredded or chopped, it didn't matter.

All was nothing but flesh, no sacrifice too big to complete the objective.

And this Zenith Warden's objective was to kill them.

The cohort had no hope of winning, and even survival seemed impossible, but...

"Ready?!"

"Ready!"

They were going to try nonetheless.