Chapter 77: Terror Attack [1]

"Alicia, Lena. Stay here. Fortify this position."

I looked at my mother.

"Mother, don’t leave this corner. Lena is better than any knight outside that barrier. She will keep you safe."

"And you?" Lyriana asked, her eyes widening.

I turned toward the exit. "I’m going out."

"No!"

She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Lucien, look at that madness! You cannot go out there! You are a student, not a soldier!"

"I am the only one who knows what’s happening," I said firmly, trying to pry her hand away gently. "If I stay here, we all die. Someone has to stop the source."

"But—"

"Mother." I looked her in the eye. "Trust me."

She searched my face, her lips trembling. She looked for the boy she raised, but she found the man who had survived exile and dungeons.

She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping.

"...You are as stubborn as your father," she whispered, frustration and fear warring in her tone.

She let go of my arm, but her gaze hardened.

"Fine. Go. But I will not let you go alone." She pointed at Alicia. "Take her. You will need someone to watch your back."

"I need her here to—"

"I have Lena," Lyriana insisted, glancing at the silent maid who nodded subtly. "And I have my own artifacts. Take Alicia. That is my condition."

I looked at Lena. The assassin-maid met my gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod, her hand resting near her concealed blades.

I have this handled,

her eyes said.

I exhaled. "Fine. Alicia, on me."

"Yes, Boss!" Alicia straightened, fire sparking around her wand.

"I—I’m coming too!"

Ariana stepped forward, clutching her skirt, her face pale but determined.

"I can use alchemy... I can help..."

"No."

I rejected it instantly. Coldly.

"You stay here."

"But—"

"Ariana," I stepped closer, gripping her shoulders. "You have no combat experience. You have no defensive spells. Out there, you are a target. If I have to worry about protecting you, I can’t fight."

Her face crumbled slightly at the harsh truth.

"You will be in danger," I softened my voice. "Please. Stay with my mother. Keep her safe for me."

It was a task to give her purpose.

Lyriana stepped in, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. "He’s right, dear. Stay by my side. Let the men handle the war."

Ariana bit her lip, tears welling up, but she nodded.

"Come back," she whispered. "Promise me."

"I’ll be back before tea time."

I turned away, signaling Alicia.

"Let’s go."

****

We moved out of the VIP lounge and onto the upper balconies overlooking the park.

The scene below was a nightmare.

Fires burned in the food court. The beautiful swan boats were sinking in the lake. The screams of the crowd mixed with the maniacal laughter of the

Infernus

cultists.

Though weapons were banned, the nobility wasn’t defenseless.

I looked down at the Central Plaza.

Kael was there. He had seized a sword from a fallen cultist and was fighting like a demon. His blade flashed, cutting down a masked man who tried to attack a woman cowering on the ground.

Slash.

Clean. Efficient. Heroic.

Nearby, Princess Celestia stood atop a fountain. She didn’t have a staff, but her raw mana control was enough. She froze a charging attacker into an ice sculpture with a wave of her hand.

Bordon was using a heavy metal bench as a shield, bashing enemies back, while Elisha fired arrows she must have scavenged from a carnival game stall.

They were fighting well. They were saving lives.

But as I watched them, my expression grew cold.

"Small fries," I muttered.

"Boss?" Alicia asked, blasting a cultist who tried to climb the stairs toward us.

"Nothing. Let’s go. We are not needed here. They can take care of these weaklings," I said, turning my back on the heroic scene below.

"What do you mean, Master? Shouldn’t we help them?"

I spat on the ground. "Just follow me. You will know soon."

I vaulted over the railing, landing on a maintenance path, and began running toward the darker, less populated sector of the park.

Unbeknownst to him, amidst the chaos of the plaza, Princess Celestia turned.

She had just impaled an attacker with a glacier spike. Breathing hard, she scanned the area for threats—and her eyes caught the back of a grey suit disappearing into the shadows.

’Lucien...?’

He wasn’t running toward the exit. He wasn’t running toward the safe zone. He was running deeper into the park.

’Where is he going?’

But before she could call out, another wave of cultists screamed her name, forcing her back into the fray.

"Annoying...."

Casually turning them into ice sculptures she walked in the same direction.

’Cadet Lucien Ashborne! What are you upto this time...?’

*****

Meanwhile, I was running.

My lungs burned, but my mind was burning hotter.

’Where the fuck are they?’

I cursed inwardly, my eyes scanning every rooftop, every shadowed alleyway with [Detection Lv. 7].

I never bothered dealing with the cannon fodder in the plaza. They were low-level initiates of

Infernus

, sent only to distract the knights and the protagonists.

The real danger was something else.

These small fries weren’t just killing civilians for terror. They were harvesting.

They had turned this entire theme park into a ritual ground. Every drop of blood spilled, every scream of terror, fed the mana circuit etched beneath the cobblestones.

And by now, quite a few people had died. The mana density in the air was getting thick, suffocating.

’The more sacrifices they make, the more powerful monsters they can summon.’

In the game, this was a cinematic. I watched it happen on a screen. I didn’t know the exact coordinates of the summoners because the camera just panned over the destruction.

I was blind.

I gritted my teeth.

’Think. If I were a dark mage wanting to summon a calamity, where would I hide?’

Somewhere with high mana conductivity. Somewhere secluded.

Then, the air shattered.

"RAWR!!!"

CRUNCH.

The sound wasn’t a human scream. It was the wet, heavy sound of meat being pulverized.

The ground shook.

I skidded to a halt as a massive shadow was thrown over me.

Ahead, near the entrance to the ’Fantasy Forest’ ride, space distorted. A rift tore open in the air, purple lightning crackling around the edges.

And then, a green, massive hand gripped the edge of the tear.

ROAAAAAR!

It pulled itself out—a mountain of muscle and rage.

It wasn’t a goblin. It wasn’t a wolf. It wasn’t a giant bug.

It stood three meters tall. Its skin was the color of moss and rot. Its tusks were the size of daggers, and it wielded a crude iron club that looked like it weighed half a ton.

An Orc.

A real fucking monster.

And it wasn’t alone. Two more rifts opened behind it.

"Finally," I whispered, the cold, matte-black steel of the Benelli M4 Super 90 grounding me in the chaos. "The main course."

I racked the bolt.

Clack-clack.

"Hey, Shrek!"

The roar died in the monster’s throat as it turned its massive, confused head toward the tiny human noise. That split second of distraction was all I needed.

[Movement Arts].

The world blurred. I wasn’t running; I was gliding, friction becoming a suggestion rather than a rule. I closed the distance in a heartbeat, sliding across the cobblestones on my knees like an action hero, slipping right under its guard.

As I slid past, I shoved the barrel upward, jamming it against the side of its knee.

BOOM!

The recoil kicked hard against my shoulder. The heavy 12-gauge buckshot didn’t just break the skin; it vaporized the joint, tearing through thick green hide and shattering bone.

The Orc roared—a sound of pure agony—as its leg buckled. The massive club swung harmlessly overhead, shattering a lamp post in a shower of sparks instead of crushing skulls. Gravity did the rest, bringing the monster down to one knee, its ugly, tusked face forcing itself down to my level.

"Ugly bastard," I spat.

I stood up, the motion fluid, and racked the next shell. I didn’t hesitate. I pressed the muzzle directly against its forehead, right between those hate-filled eyes.

BOOM!

The back of its skull exploded in a spray of dark blood and bone fragments. The massive body went limp instantly, crashing to the ground with a tremor that shook the soles of my boots.

A blue window flickered in my peripheral vision—[Monster Defeated: Orc Warrior]—but I didn’t have time to celebrate the points. The smell of cordite and blood filled the air, and the screams hadn’t stopped.

I spun around, reloading with practiced speed, shells clicking into the tube.

"Alicia!" I yelled over the chaos. "Two more on your left! Burn them!"

"Yes, Boss!"

Flames erupted in the distance. The warm-up was over. The real fight had just begun.

*****

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