The dense forest, at this very moment, was being ravaged by a torrential gale. Countless fragments of stones, accompanied by remnants of branches and leaves, formed a sky-darkening cloud of debris, resembling an apocalyptic scene heralding the end of the world.

At the outskirts of the storm's domain, countless massive trees, towering like giants, intertwined with twisted vines to construct an enormous wall. This area was transformed into an inescapable... Death Zone.

A Death Zone made for just one person.

"What's wrong, Moen Campbell?"

At the center of this domain, the priest still carried his composed smile, his gaze fixed on the silhouette not far away.

"Not long ago, you claimed to be the type who grows stronger in solo battles. So why is it that all I see now is you running away so frantically?"

*Cough, cough* "Well, sometimes the advertisement doesn't quite match the actual product, does it? Please, pay no attention to that."

Moen coughed up a mouthful of blood, wiping it nonchalantly onto a piece of shattered stone nearby.

At this moment, he was rather disheveled.

No, disheveled might be an understatement; it was utter chaos.

His golden hair, which once shone like sunlight at dawn, now swayed like withered autumn grass under the relentless storm.

After giving his outerwear to Lea, the sole shirt he was left wearing had turned into little more than tattered rags. Expensive fabric, reduced to scraps even a beggar might refuse, clung to his battered frame. This starkly contrasted with the still pristine attire of the priest standing before him.

The skin exposed beneath those tattered rags also lacked its usual marble-sculpted contours of defined beauty. Instead, Moen's body was littered with wounds—knife slashes, claw marks, and even a large patch of charring across his broad back.

—The latter was the result of hidden lightning strikes within the storm. Had it not been for his quick reaction at the time, half his body might already have been pierced by the divine force of the lightning and reduced to charred remains.

And the reason for Moen’s severe injuries? It was... merely probing.

Yes, the encounters of the last few minutes were clearly just the priest testing him.

From start to finish, the priest hadn't moved. Not even a single step.

Yet, in these few brief moments, he had employed more than five divine blessings, each one potentially lethal to Moen.

Despite wielding such extraordinary powers, the priest was astonishingly cautious.

It was as though he was entirely aware of his vulnerability as an ordinary human. He had remained protected within a sturdy barrier of holy light from the beginning, relying solely on these blessings to leave wound after wound on Moen in a distance. It was like the slow slicing of flesh by a dull blade, gradually sapping away his life and endurance.

Just like an old turtle hiding inside its shell.

And enemies like this were always the most frustrating to deal with.

Not to mention, this enemy wasn’t alone.

Even someone as tenacious and enduring as Moen—proudly likening himself to a cockroach or an unyielding old ox—was starting to feel breathless under this storm of relentless assaults.

So then... what should he do next?

The only option was...

"Moen Campbell, I have a proposition."

In what seemed like a deliberately granted moment of respite, the priest suddenly spoke.

"A proposition?"

"Correct."

The priest smiled and said:

"Why don’t you just surrender? What do you think?"

"Hmm?"

Unsure of the priest’s intentions, Moen asked cautiously:

"If I surrender, you won’t kill me?"

"Of course, I’ll still kill you. It’s part of our client’s assignment."

"Then what’s the difference?"

"There is a difference."

"And that is?"

"Since death is unavoidable, why not choose a less painful way to die?"

The priest explained:

"After all, I am a believer of the goddess, a priest who has taught countless followers her doctrines. Even though you are my enemy, and even though my client has requested we kill you in the most brutal manner possible, I would still extend the necessary mercy.

So as long as you surrender, I will grant you a swift and painless death."

The priest’s expression radiated benevolence, as if engaged in a devout morning prayer.

Yet his words sent an unmistakable chill down the spine.

A painless death...

Moen chuckled softly.

For someone such as himself, that might indeed be considered a truly merciful offer.

"But I'm sorry," Moen declined firmly. "For now, the only thing that truly frightens me is death itself... well, maybe machetes come in second.

So..."

Moen blinked hopefully and asked:

"Do I have a third option? Like, I leave here alive, and we just become good friends?"

"No."

The priest’s smile faded, replaced by a face of pity:

"What a shame, Moen Campbell. I’ll admit, holding out this long is quite impressive."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"But... it ends here."

The priest’s cold words fell like a divine decree, an absolute pronouncement from above.

Simultaneously, unlike the previous attacks of constant attrition, an overwhelming sense of impending death suddenly pierced through Moen’s mind.

The long-beaten yet contained malice abruptly erupted.

A nauseating stench, carrying brutal killing intent, surged from behind him.

But this attack did not come from the priest—it came from... the hyena.

During the priest’s earlier probing, a hidden hyena had been withholding its strike. Now, it finally bared its fangs at Moen!

Only...

Was the long-planned killing blow entrusted to... a hyena?

Moen frowned as he turned to face the beast.

The hyena had already fully transformed into a monster. It was covered in scales and bristling with sharp bone spurs. Its claws looked capable of tearing through steel with ease.

Its eyes glowed a demonic crimson, devoid of all reason.

For someone like him, though, given his speed, it should still be possible—

"I’ve already said: it’s the end here."

A calm voice came from behind Moen.

The priest turned a page of his holy scripture.

In an instant, the air surrounding Moen froze.

The raging wind seemed to pause mid-motion, frozen in place. Moen suddenly felt the air around him thicken—becoming viscous.

Like water.

Like sludge.

Like cement!

The thickened air seeping into his lungs caused searing pain in his chest, as though it were burning him from within.

Moen’s breath faltered, but the even greater problem was the terrifying pressure all around, as though he were submerged deep underwater. It slowed his movements to a crawl.

Under the blessing of temporal acceleration, Moen’s speed would normally reach terrifying extremes. Solely in terms of velocity, not even the monstrous hyena could match him.

But that was under normal circumstances.

Even unmatched speed becomes negligible...

If trapped underwater.

Or stuck in sludge.

Or encased in rapidly hardening cement.

Would his speed remain the same?

The answer was...

No.

"Grrrk—One Billion!"

The hyena let out an excited shriek, rabid saliva dripping from its gaping maw. Its claws, exuding venom and intense battle aura, lunged unimpeded toward Moen’s exposed vitals.

When speed becomes unattainable, when no holy light shields you, the disparity in power and realm surfaces in stark relief.

So.

Nothing could stop the inevitable.

"See?"

The priest smiled faintly at the sight.

"Your vaunted speed amounts to nothing after all. As I said earlier, I’ve uncovered your limits. Victory for you is now impossible."

*Squelch—*

The sound of claws piercing flesh resounded as vivid crimson blood splattered.

Though he couldn't witness his despairing expression for Moen’s back at him...

Still.

It was beautiful.

The priest was reminded of the morning he departed the church.

The sight of flowers blooming from the children’s bodies had been just as vividly beautiful.

"What a pity."

The priest murmured:

"Nobody ever seems to comprehend my mercy."

He slowly closed the holy scripture in his hands, as if preparing to place the final period on a hunt that had, despite everything, gone as planned.

*Cough, cough...*

Abruptly—

As the performance was closing in on its end, as all the actors prepared to bow and exit to claim their due, applause-worthy fare...

Someone about to take center stage as a lifeless corpse let out an ill-timed dry cough.

"Aren't we rushing to the finale? I hadn’t even finished my lines yet."

"Hmm?"

The priest’s hand froze in the act of closing his scripture.

He snapped his head up, looking at Moen.

The grotesque creature lay atop Moen, poised to rip him apart piece by piece, devour him completely.

Its razor-sharp claws had indeed punctured Moen’s flesh precisely. A simple twist would have been enough to tear him into two.

And yet, against all odds, wedged in the gap between those claws, a pair of pristine white daggers were crossed tightly, holding the attack at bay. Though trembling slightly, they prevented the deadly claws from advancing even a fraction further.

"This... this is impossible!"

The priest’s pupils constricted, revealing, for the first time, a moment of genuine discomposure.

"You should have been completely suppressed! There’s no way you could’ve stopped the hyena’s attack!"

"You’re right—it was my limit."

Moen grinned as his gaze fell upon the dumbstruck hyena, its monstrous face etched with disbelief. He remarked:

"But reaching the limit is the only chance for a breakthrough, wouldn’t you agree?"

Suddenly, like a dam bursting under the weight of a surging river, torrents of energy began coursing over Moen’s body. Accelerating battle aura flowed like liquid flame. Seizing the instant of unleashed energy, Moen’s blades swept outward, forcing the hyena to retreat head-on.

The wound on his midsection, courtesy of the hyena’s claws, continued to bleed freely. Yet Moen showed no sign of concern as he closed his eyes, immersing himself in the sensation of this long-awaited eruption, this crescendo of power meeting his peak.

A breakthrough in his martial discipline.

Third-tier warrior awakened.

"No wonder every protagonist in these tales gets a kick out of this tropic moment. Damn right—it feels amazing."

Exhaling deeply, Moen’s eyes snapped open. Fixing the priest with a smile, his expression was calm and almost teasing.

"Thanks, Priest. Without your diligent work, it might’ve taken me several more months to reach third-tier at my natural pace."

"…Is that so?"

The priest’s gaze momentarily flickered with an indecipherable light. But it soon stilled, and his face returned to neutrality.

"Yet so what? So what if your level has advanced? The gap between second-tier and third-tier cannot get you out of your predicament."

He flipped through the sacred tome once more.

The storm, bestowed by the divine beings, descended upon this desolate land once again, leaving Moen without a place to escape.

"You’re right."

Yet this time, Moen seemed completely unaffected by the immense pressure. He shrugged casually, as if it didn't matter.

Whether it was the second tier or the third tier—

When facing a fourth-tier monster and a priest who had devoted himself to countless gods, it made no difference.

Because this kind of level advancement didn’t constitute an essential improvement.

If you couldn’t win before, you still couldn’t win now. It wasn’t like those protagonists who suddenly level up by a minor tier and then miraculously turn the tables, chasing after enemies to crush them.

"But…"

Moen's lips curled into a sly smile:

"Since my goal is achieved, there's no need to keep hiding."

"Hm?"

The priest frowned.

Hiding?

Hiding what?

Could there still be some hidden trump card?

No, calm down.

Even if he has something up his sleeve, it can't change the current outcome.

Any external tools mean nothing under the blessings of the gods.

But at that moment, the priest saw Moen raise his hands, lightly touching two short blades together.

Electric arcs danced, and an alchemical field spread out, enveloping both Moen and the nearby hyena.

"?!"

The priest frowned again.

Moen's aura had vanished.

It seemed to be shielded by that strange field.

...So this was how he evaded our trackers before.

But why?

Is this his hidden card?

Erasing his aura in plain sight?

We’re not blind!

"Just now, you all gave me a hell of a good time."

As the priest sank deeper into cautious contemplation and hesitation, Moen, within the alchemical field, suddenly started to ignite…

Flames rose up on his body—

Scarlet flames.

"And now…"

Enveloped in scarlet fire, Moen looked at the priest and smiled faintly:

"It’s time for me to return the favor and give you a taste of ecstasy."