Chapter 243: Destroy The Cursed (60)

Chapter 243 – The Endless WavesBalor and Little One did not hesitate when Ronan vanished into the fray. Balor stepped into the void itself, his form flickering between existence and shadow, while Little One shrank down into his microscopic state.

Round two had begun.

The Earth Warriors this time were nothing like the first wave. These ones moved with greater discipline, their forms harder, their strikes sharper. It was as though Madi had forged them to be a whole new breed—brutal, relentless, and far more dangerous.

The battlefield quickly devolved into chaos. Stone and dust filled the air as blades and fists clashed in a storm of force. Yet, for all the ferocity of the Earth Warriors, the three heroes were equally nightmarish to injure.

Balor in the void was almost incorporeal. Blades and boulders passed harmlessly through him, and when he struck, his timing was flawless—each dagger sinking into an exposed fatal part before vanishing back into the shadows.

Little One, in his microscopic form, was nearly invisible. His tiny strikes might not have had the weight of a giant’s blow, but each one was deadly precise, tearing through tendons, nerves, or vital points where even stone bodies faltered.

Ronan was the most terrifying. His Switch skill turned the enemy’s might against themselves.

Warriors lunged, only for their blows to twist mid-swing and crash into their comrades. Every strike Ronan dealt created a chain reaction of carnage, breaking the unity of the horde.

Together, the trio fought like phantoms of destruction, and soon enough the second wave was ground to rubble.

But Madi only smirked, his calm face betraying no concern.

"Not bad," he said, his voice carrying eerily over the battlefield. "Now... prepare for the third wave."

Little One’s heart dropped like a stone. "Wait—third wave? He’s joking, right? Tell me he’s joking!" His tiny voice cracked between panic and despair.

But Ronan’s expression told a different story. His eyes narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was no joke here. The Dark Emissary was truly playing with them.

And so, the third wave surged forward.

The clash was bloodier than before, each warrior more ruthless, but somehow—through sheer grit—the three managed to fight through it.

When the last warrior fell, the battlefield was silent except for the labored breaths of the heroes.

Ronan stood, barely keeping his balance. His shoulders sagged, sweat dripping down his face, his violet eyes dimmed but not extinguished.

Balor and Little One were already on their knees. Both looked utterly drained, their bodies trembling as though about to collapse completely.

"This is bad," Ronan muttered under his breath. His body was battered, his energy reserves dangerously low. Even he knew he needed time to recover—time they did not have.

And then Madi’s voice cut through the silence once more. His lips curved into a cruel smile.

"Good. But let’s end this charade. Prepare... for the fifth round."

The ground roared in answer. A violent tremor erupted, far stronger than any before, tearing the battlefield apart.

Cracks spread like veins of death, and from those jagged openings rose yet another legion of Earth Warriors.

This time, they came not in dozens or hundreds—but in thousands.

The horde seemed endless, their eyes burning with the same malice as their master.

Worse, their presence radiated an aura heavier and more gruesome than before. These were not simply soldiers—they were executioners forged to crush hope.

Little One let out a groan, his body shaking with despair. "C-can’t anyone tell that lunatic we’re already done? I’m breaking down here!"

Balor gave a weak laugh, his voice ragged. "Don’t look at me... I’ve got nothing left."

Both of them turned their eyes to Ronan—the only one still standing.

But Ronan’s face was pale, his chest heaving. His eyes twitched, frustration gnawing at him.

Yes, he still had some reserves left, but not enough to face this army and protect his allies at the same time. That would be suicide.

He clenched his blades tighter, his knuckles white. If things get any worse... then this really might be the end.

And still, Madi’s smile lingered. Calm. Patient. Confident.

"Earth Warriors, Ascend" he commanded coldly.

The cracks widened further, and the horde multiplied—filling the battlefield with a sea of stone and death.

Ronan’s heart sank as a cold dread seeped into his bones. Not just because of their sheer numbers. No.

It was because these warriors radiated a new level of power, darker and more terrifying than all the waves before.

If the earlier Earth Warriors had been on the brink of A-Rank, these new ones had already crossed that threshold.

Their sheer presence radiated crushing force, each of them exuding the strength of a high A-Ranker. And now there weren’t just dozens, or even hundreds.

There were thousands.

Ronan’s jaw tightened as he muttered, "What kind of broken power does this Dark Emissary even have...?" The situation had just gone from dire to utterly insane.

Little One’s tiny voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "H-hey... tell me this is some kind of nightmare. Please. Just a nightmare."

Balor—the usually calm, composed Balor—actually snapped, his voice rougher than usual.

"You fool! Of course this is a nightmare!" he barked. "The kind I never wanted to experience!"

He let out a shaky laugh, but his eyes betrayed the fear crawling under his skin. "You know what, pal? I hope you at least got to spend some good time with your wife and kids.

As for me... I’m suddenly regretting being single my whole damn life." His attempt at sarcasm came out bitter, and the tension in his voice spoke louder than his words.

Little One grit his teeth, forcing his battered body upright. His energy reserves were almost completely gone.

Every movement made his bones ache and his vision blur. Yet what terrified him most was not his exhaustion—it was the aura of the new army.

These warriors radiated an oppressive sharpness far beyond the first four waves. They weren’t just tougher... they were monsters designed to crush even veteran heroes.

Balor stepped forward, though he didn’t sink into the void this time. Doing so now would be reckless; his strength was barely enough to hold form.

But his grip on his daggers was steady. He would fight, even if it meant his last stand.