Chapter 166: Crazy Kids

Chapter 166

Amid the chaos tearing through the city of Serenya, four small figures darted silently through the alleys — children, barely in their teens. Despite the screams, the crumbling buildings, and the echo of battle, three of them moved with eerie calm. Only one looked like he might fall apart at any moment.

"H-Hey Rin... do we really have to do this?" Chip asked, his voice trembling with every step.

At the head of the group, a black-haired boy named Rin didn’t turn around. He simply nodded, resolute.

"We need to reach the forge," he said. "There are weapons there... weapons that could help the guild."

Chip groaned. "Yeah, but why us? Why can’t the adults handle this? We’re kids — this is suicide!"

He wasn’t wrong. What were they going to do if they ran into one of the enemy factions? Throw pebbles and pray? It was madness.

"If we encounter an enemy," Rin replied sharply, "then we fight."

Chip stared at him like he’d grown a second head. "You’re insane," he muttered.

Still, he followed. What else could he do?

He prayed they wouldn’t run into trouble. But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

Up ahead, a figure stood amidst a pool of blood, clutching a long dagger. At his feet lay three guild members — all of them dead. The man wore a red armored suit, its surface smeared with gore. Slowly, he turned toward the group of children.



Chip’s heart froze.

We’re dead.

Maybe, just maybe, the man would see them for what they were — foolish kids — and let them go. But the moment that wicked grin spread across the man’s face, Chip knew better.

"You little brats really walked into your graves," the man said, raising his bloodstained dagger and pointing it at them.

Chip’s face went pale.

This is it. I’m going to die...

Just when all hope seemed lost, Rin darted forward. He snatched a sword from one of the fallen guild members and charged the red-armored man with reckless bravery.

Chip’s eyes widened in awe. For a brief second, he was captivated by Rin’s courage.

Then came the reality check.

With a lazy swipe, the Red Vanguard disarmed Rin, snapping the blade like a twig. A sharp kick followed, smashing into Rin’s jaw and sending him flying several meters through the air.

The sparkle in Chip’s eyes vanished. It was replaced by cold, sinking despair.

We can’t win. We never stood a chance...

Then, to his utter shock, another figure stepped forward — a young girl with short black hair and intense black eyes. In her small hands, she held a long sword that still looked too big for her.

"Kira? What are you doing?" Chip whispered in disbelief.

"What does it look like?" she whispered back without hesitation.

Then she charged.

She’s dead, Chip thought grimly.

But she wasn’t. To his astonishment, Kira and the Red Vanguard began to exchange blows. Though the man clearly held the upper hand, it was obvious — he wasn’t finding this as easy as he expected.

Chip rubbed his eyes. No way...

Kira, the youngest among them, was also the most skilled. Despite her small frame, she fought with sharp instincts and stubborn resilience.

"Snap out of it!" Rin’s voice rang beside him, followed by a smack to the back of his head. He shoved a half-broken sword into Chip’s hands.

"What’s this for?!" Chip yelped.

"What else?" Rin glared. "We support her!"

Before Chip could argue, Rin grabbed his arm and dragged him straight into a battle that was way, way out of their league.

The battle raged on.

Kira’s body was battered, blood trickling from cuts and bruises, yet her face remained stoic — not a single flicker of pain. She had endured worse in training. Pain was a companion she’d long since stopped fearing.

Rin and Chip had joined the fight too, but truthfully, they were little more than distractions. Their attacks were clumsy, barely drawing the Red Vanguard’s attention.

It wasn’t long before the inevitable happened.

Chip was the first to go flying, slammed into a nearby wall. He groaned, sliding to the ground, pain flooding his senses. Moments later, Rin followed, crashing down on top of him with a sharp grunt. Then Kira, bloodied and barely conscious, was sent sprawling beside them.

"You damn brats..." the Red Vanguard growled, wiping blood from his mouth. "What an annoying bunch."

He hadn’t expected this much resistance — not from kids. At first, he planned to kill them swiftly, but they’d proven more persistent than he liked. Now, he was done playing.

He stepped forward, dagger dripping with blood, eyes locked onto the fallen children. "Let’s end this."

But just as he took another step, a small figure moved in front of the group, arms spread wide.

She was tiny — short white hair and crystal-blue eyes gleaming with fear but also determination.

It was Xin.

She hadn’t fought earlier, too weak to join the battle. But now, with her friends collapsed and her brother barely breathing, she couldn’t stand back any longer.

The Red Vanguard blinked at her, then chuckled darkly. "Another stupid brat?"

He lunged, dagger flashing toward her face.

Xin froze. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. She shut her eyes tight, bracing for the pain, for death. Images of her short life flickered through her mind.

Am I going to die now...? I’m too young... I don’t want to die...



"I don’t want to die," she whispered.

But the pain never came.

When she opened her eyes, confused, she gasped.

A metallic hand had stopped the dagger — just inches from her face.

A calm, furious voice rumbled behind her.

"Don’t you dare touch the little princess."

With a swift jerk, the dagger was ripped away. A moment later, a massive punch connected with the Red Vanguard’s face, launching him backward like a cannonball. He crashed through a stone wall, disappearing in a cloud of rubble.

Xin looked up at her savior — and beamed.

"Uncle Nathan!" she cried, bowing her head in gratitude.

Nathan’s eyes, usually soft and kind, glowed with fury. "Help the others. Mia will heal them," he said gently. Then his gaze hardened again as he turned toward the ruined wall. "I’ll handle this."

Xin nodded and rushed to help the others, dragging Rin and Chip to safety with surprising strength, Kira limping behind her. They left the battlefield behind, leaving only Nathan and the Red Vanguard.

From the rubble, the enemy rose slowly, blood trickling down his jaw. His expression was dark. That one exchange had told him everything — this man was dangerous.

Nathan stared at him for a long moment, eyes distant.

"I swore I’d never fight again," he said quietly, looking down at his gleaming, metallic arms. The fingers curled and uncurled. Embedded in each knuckle were beast cores, softly glowing with latent power.

"But if it means protecting them..." His voice dropped. "Then I’ll break that vow."

He took a breath — and then his aura exploded.

"Multiplier — All Stats x2."

BOOM.

In a blur, Nathan vanished from view.

He reappeared directly in front of the Red Vanguard, his fist already mid-swing. The Red Vanguard raised his dagger in defense — but it was pointless.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The blade shattered on impact.

The beast cores in Nathan’s knuckles flared like dying stars.

"Die."

The punch landed squarely on the Red Vanguard’s face, driving him into the ground with thunderous force. Blood splattered. Bone crunched.

When the dust settled... there was nothing left but a headless corpse.

Nathan stood over it, unmoving, expression unreadable.

If there was one thing Nathan felt right now — it was rage.

He’d been close. So close to completing Phase Nova, a project he’d poured everything into. But the cursed interference had forced him to halt it — and that infuriated him.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Explosions echoed in the distance.

Nathan’s eyes locked onto the horizon. The battle wasn’t over — far from it. And now, he would join the fray. With his strength, maybe... just maybe, they could turn the tide.

---

Elsewhere...

A scream tore through the skies — loud, raw, and agonizing.

It came from none other than Silver Wing.

His once-proud wings flailed violently, veins bulging, feathers twisting at unnatural angles. His eyes burned red with excruciating pain as it felt like his wings were being ripped apart from the inside.

He hovered in the air, suspended like a puppet on broken strings, his limbs trembling as his wings spasmed uncontrollably.

Below him, a figure stood — hand stretched toward the suffering warrior, his metallic fingers glowing ominously.

Metallo.



His expression was twisted with dark amusement, as if he took pleasure in every tortured scream Silver Wing let out.

Minutes dragged on, filled with nothing but the crackling of energy and the horrifying cries echoing across the sky.

Then, as if he had grown bored of the torment, Metallo casually flicked his hand.

Silver Wing was hurled to the ground like a ragdoll, crashing hard. Blood sprayed as he hit the earth, his wings bent in grotesque angles. He lay there, gasping — breath ragged, vision blurred. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream anymore.

He was done.

Metallo approached, boots crunching against shattered stone, his malicious grin widening.

"This," he said coldly, "is what happens when you mess with the cursed."

From a shattered metallic crate nearby, shards floated toward him, spinning and fusing until they formed a long, gleaming spear. Its edge pulsed with deadly energy — cold, sharp, and final.

"Bye now, winged guy," Metallo sneered.

And with a savage thrust, the spear shot down — straight for Silver Wing’s heart.

---

To be continued...