The newcomer, of course, was Russell.
After finishing off the Centipede in the cave, Russell had realized the peak was empty—its lingering aura had scared off any remaining monsters.
So, he'd flown back down to the mountainside to keep farming materials.
That was when he saw it: a tree in the distance crashing to the ground.
If he'd been on foot, buried in the woods, he might have missed it. But from atop Pidgeot, the sight was unmistakable.
As he swooped down, what he saw chilled him: Darren had just shoved Nancy straight toward a charging monster.
There was no time for words.
The creature lunged at Nancy's fallen body.
"Yoriichi!" Russell's voice cut like a blade through the chaos.
In a flash of crimson light, the swordsman appeared at his side—face calm, katana already unsheathed.
The monster lunged for Nancy with a savage roar, claws like jagged scythes glinting with blood.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Yoriichi met the assault mid-sprint, his blade dancing through the air like fire and wind. Each strike deflected a claw, a fang, a killing blow—barely.
The sheer power behind the creature's attacks drove Yoriichi back a step, gouging twin trenches beneath his feet. Sparks flew. Metal screamed.
Behind them, Russell stood firm, eyes cold as steel as he watched the twisted creature snarl.
Then he turned to Darren."You didn't even try to help," he said, low and sharp. "But throwing Nancy to her death?"
Darren's face twisted in madness."It's her privilege to die for a future Hall-level Cardmaster like me!" he shrieked. "You're the one interfering!"
Russell didn't dignify that with a response.
He descended beside Nancy, helped her to her feet. "You alright?"
She nodded, shaken but unharmed.
But when her eyes found Darren, they narrowed with frost."I'm telling my father."
Darren crumbled. He dropped to his knees, groveling."Nancy, no—please—I was panicking, I didn't mean to—"
But Nancy was already looking back toward the fight.
The battlefield had shifted.Yoriichi and the monster now circled each other like predators—one silent and composed, the other seething and twitching with barely contained savagery.
The monster snapped first.
It launched itself forward, limbs exploding into motion. It moved like a blur, zigzagging erratically, its twin claws whistling through the air in a deadly cross-slash.
"Fast…" Russell muttered.
The swordsman narrowly dodged—but not without cost. Three crimson gashes opened across his forearm.
Russell's face hardened."Use the Mark."
Yoriichi didn't hesitate.
His breath stilled. His aura surged.
The red-brown markings across his body pulsed—then bloomed outward, spreading like fire igniting along a line of oil. His presence magnified tenfold, the sheer weight of him warping the space around him.
Russell winced as his mental energy was yanked forward, drained at an alarming rate—but held steady.
Yoriichi vanished.
He reappeared a heartbeat later—directly in front of the monster.
The beast's eyes widened—too late.
SHING!
Yoriichi's flaming blade erupted in a spiraling arc of heat and light. The slash carved across the monster's torso like divine judgment.
Time froze.
Then—
BOOM!
The creature ruptured into chunks, blood and sinew flung outward like discarded armor. Its upper half hit the ground with a crash that echoed across the valley.
Nancy stared in stunned awe.
This... this was Russell's real strength.
She realized now—during the ranking exam, Russell had held back. This wasn't a student's trick. This was power—refined, controlled, deadly.
Behind her, Darren fell into a silent rage.
Why is it always him?! Why is it always Russell!
Every time, no matter how hard Darren tried, Russell soared ahead like some unreachable giant.
In Russell's eyes, Darren wasn't even a rival. He was just a clown throwing tantrums in a battlefield meant for warriors.
He couldn't accept it. Russell hadn't even taken him seriously back when they fought. His angry boasts now felt ridiculous—like the delusions of a clown.
Which, frankly, was exactly how Russell saw him.
Ignoring Darren's inner turmoil, Russell approached the remains of the creature.
The tangled flesh began to dissolve into mist.
And as the blood receded from its face, a very human visage was revealed beneath it.
Russell's pupils shrank in shock.
It was Mr. Walker—the monitor stationed here when the elite class first entered the space.
Russell silently shifted his body to block the others' view.
Kneeling down, he spoke quietly, "What happened to you?"
In his final moments, some clarity returned to the man once known as Mr. Walker.
He coughed up blood and gasped, "I… didn't want… to die…"
"My mom… she's still… in the hospital…"
Tears streamed down his mangled cheeks. "Help… me…"
"I… I'm sorry… to the captain…"
"Qi…"
He never finished the word.
Like a fading card, Mr. Walker's body crumbled into light and vanished.
All that remained was a glowing, blood-red card.
Russell frowned. "Qi…?"
"…The Cult of Red Grace?"
He quietly stored that name in memory and picked up the card.
[Flesh Horror – Gold Rank] (Iron Tier)
Russell was stunned.
He'd expected to find one of Mr. Walker's personal cards… but instead, this was a material drop, like what came from slaying monsters.
And it was gold.
Even online, gold-tier materials from Iron-class monsters were rare.
Before he could finish sorting through his thoughts, Nancy approached.
"What did that thing say to you?" she asked.
Thanks to her father, Nancy knew that some monsters in these spaces had high-level intelligence. Some could even speak.
She assumed this one was like them.
Russell paused—then lied.
"Nothing much. Just begged me to kill it."
He quickly changed the subject.
"There should be a surveillance station nearby. I'll check it out and then report everything to the outside."
"I'll leave Yoriichi with you two for now."
Nancy nodded, assuming he meant to guard them from stray centipedes.
She didn't realize that Russell was more concerned about Darren—who had gone deathly quiet after Nancy mentioned her father.
Russell wasn't one to underestimate the madness of cornered people.
With a silent whistle, he summoned Pidgeot and flew swiftly down the mountain.
At the surveillance outpost, Russell finally understood why Mr. Walker had whispered, I'm sorry, Captain…
Laid out before him was a headless corpse, chest torn open.
The team captain… was already dead.
Russell didn't linger.
He turned and left the space immediately.