Knock... Knock...
Amier, who was outside the room, stepped inside. He had a large build, wearing Radiant Armor and a Starlit Cloak adorned with a celestial moon symbol. His face was that of a mature man—tanned skin with a beard.
From Fyrel's seat, he almost looked like a monstrously large human. Quickly, he knelt before Fyrel.
"Your Honor, sorry for the disturbance, but there are intruders approaching the village... It seems they've come for you."
What a big man...Fyrel grabbed Amier's arm firmly, his excitement obvious. Amier simply allowed it without resistance.
"So, who are they?"
This time, Fyrel's voice carried a serious tone—it seemed he was genuinely concerned about these intruders. Amier, with deep respect, offered his insight.
I don't know who they are, but judging by their skill... they're Valtherion, Rank 3.
Fyrel's curiosity spiked at the mention of Valtherion—this was the first time he'd heard of it.
Then explain… What does 'Valtherion' mean in terms of their skill?
Amier proceeded to clarify:
Valtherion has six ranks.The weakest is Rank 5, and to advance, they must kill humans or monsters assigned by the kingdom.
- Rank 5 - Kill 100
- Rank 4 - Kill 500
- Rank 3 - Kill 2,500
- Rank 2 - Kill 10,000
- Rank 1 - Kill 100,000
- Rank 0 - Kill 1 million
And then… there's Rank 0—reserved for those who have slain an Angel. Only one has ever achieved this… but he also died in the process.
Clap… clap.
Fyrel applauded—Amier had explained it perfectly.
So they're quite dangerous then—
CRASH!
The stained-glass window shattered inward as something from outside broke through. In a flash, Amier's arm shot toward Fyrel—not to grab him, but to shield his face.
His massive hand clenched mid-air, smoke curling between his fingers. When he opened his palm… a standard bullet sat there, still smoldering.
"They're here."
2.5 kilometers away, at the edge of the hill overlooking the village, five figures stood watching. One lay prone, gripping a custom rifle—a sniper.
Weapon Specs:
Model: Modified CheyTac Intervention (.408 Caliber)
- Weight: 14.3 lbs (6.5 kg)
- Magazine: 5-round detachable box
- Effective Range: 2,500 meters
- Ammo Type: Armor-piercing, occult-tipped - High-explosive payload
Pheww….That big guy just caught my round. APHE… and—
3… 2… 1…
BOOM.
The bullet detonated in his grip—a high-explosive meant to vaporize its target.
Target secure.
Without hesitation, they turned to leave—but then...
A figure clad in an ash-gray cloak emerged from the shadows, blocking their path.
How? They hadn't even sensed anyone approaching. Now, they stood frozen, battle-ready—instincts screaming that this person was deadly. The air grew heavy, silent as a tomb.
Then, the figure spoke, its voice like a whisper from the void:
"SoulBrand Mark."
Suddenly, on each of their foreheads, a crimson sigil burned to life—a target symbol, glowing like fresh blood.
And just like that... the figure vanished into the darkness, leaving only dread behind.
While in the house ..
Inside the house…
Cough… cough…
Thick smoke swirled through the room, remnants of the bullet's explosion. The dim glow of moonlight revealed three figures still standing in their places—unharmed.
"Are you okay, Your Honor?"
Fyrel, calm as ever, nodded from his seat. As the smoke cleared, a shimmering shield barrier became visible—protecting both Fyrel and Hwa from the blast. The room was partially destroyed, furniture shattered and walls scorched… yet their bed and seating area remained untouched, shielded by Amier's quick reflexes.
Good job, Amier. Your skills are awesome.
But something gnawed at Fyrel's mind. This bullet…its design, its mechanisms—it was exclusive to Earth, his original world. And now, it had been modified with magic in this realm.
"Did… someone betray our own people?"
Fyrel scanned the room. Where did she—?
"Amier… do you know where Ryn went? I can't sense her at all."
Amier bowed slightly, his voice respectful but edged with something like reverence.
"She has already left to deal with our enemies, Your Honor. She will… settle them. Quietly."
Fyrel frowned. "But they're Valtherion Rank 3. They're supposed to be strong."
Amier's lips twitched—almost a smirk. "Strong… for us. But in her eyes? They're just insects.Though, if I may explain… Ryn Ciu is someone even the Six Angels once tried to recruit. If my memory serves me right. "
Fyrel's eyebrows shot up. "The Angels?!"
Yes. Any kingdom that secured her loyalty would instantly dominate—since each nation is only allowed one Rank 0 warrior. But…Why she refused them? No idea. Frankly, I was shocked too when I became your guard and found her already here.
Fyrel's eyes widened.Wait… so you mean she's Rank 0?
Amier nodded.
"Ohhh, damn it."Fyrel rubbed his temples. Now I almost feel sorry for whoever tried to shoot me.
---
The Forest
The five intruders sprinted through the trees, retreating.
"This mission was supposed to be easy, one panted. Idon't get why everyone refused it! 'Too dangerous,' they said—but look! We're fine! And the reward was a Rank 0's head! Hah! We'll be—"
WHOOSH!
"Dodge!!"
They scattered—something razor-fast sliced past them, embedding into a tree. A dagger.
"Enemies!! Hold formation!"
They snapped into battle positions:
- Tank in front,
- Two mages in the middle,
- Marksman at the rear,
- Fighter flanking.
Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.
Their detection mage swept the area—no human, no monster… just floating daggers lunging at them from nowhere.
"Incoming—top side! Tank, shield!"
But the tank didn't move.
"Hey, you—?!"
Ssshhhk!
Blood fountained from the tank's neck—his head slipped clean off, thudding to the ground beside his still-standing body. At their feet, his eyes remained open, frozen in shock.
The mage stared in horror at their comrade's headless corpse. A chilling realization struck her.
"D-don't tell me… it's her… The Silent Choir…" Her voice trembled. "If it's really her—we're all dead."
"What the hell are you babbling about?!"
The marksman snapped, panic edging into anger. "You think a legend would bother with that stupid prophet? Quit whining—burn the whole forest down! Use your magic! Light this place up!"
He cocked his rifle, snarling. "I'll blow her head off myself."
The mages obeyed, chanting in unison—walls of fire erupted, devouring trees in an inferno. The heat warped the air, casting monstrous shadows.
The marksman grinned, scanning the flames through his scope.
"Hahahaha! Now it's our hunt—"