Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate

The swordsman had a grim expression on his face. This wasn't just any opponent they were facing. No, they were up against an absolute monster— a beast that posed a grave danger to them all.

"You guys," the swordsman called out in a low voice to his teammates, "we need to go all out, or we'll all die here," he warned, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"Will manifestation," he murmured softly, yet the resolve in his voice made it clear—he was done holding back.

"Will manifestation!" x5.

The others responded in kind, and Greg was suddenly drawn into their world.

This world was more sophisticated than any typical manifestation he had seen before. At its center stood a towering sword, grand and imposing, while shields floated above in the form of clouds. The land itself was a dense maze of thick vines, resembling a living forest coiled in tension.

"Nice world," Greg muttered, standing on a vine as thick as a tree branch, its surface pulsating faintly under his feet.

Then, six elite soldiers of the empire emerged together.

"This is our ultimate power," the swordsman announced with pride. "A fusion of all our Will Manifestations—united into a single will. This combination... only we can achieve it."

"So what?" Greg replied, unimpressed. "You brag about being the best of the best, only to die like chickens."

Their faces darkened at his words, the memory of their fallen comrades resurfacing painfully.

"How dare you!" the loli magician snapped, her voice trembling with fury. The berserker had been her fiancé. Their wedding was right around the corner... until it wasn't. All their plans, all their dreams—buried in blood and ash.

"Zip it and fight. Don't bore me," Greg yawned, waving her off as if she were an annoying bug. The spark of interest he had briefly shown began to flicker out.

Suddenly, a vine whipped toward him.

Greg leapt into the air, narrowly dodging it. While airborne, he twisted his body at an unnatural angle, evading a laser beam fired from one of the cloud-shaped shields. He landed on another vine, only to jump again as yet another vine shot toward him from below.

Using Heaven's Defier, he deflected a sword hurled by one of the coiling vines.

Above him, the shield-clouds shifted, aligning toward his position. They began firing laser beams in rapid succession, forcing Greg into a chaotic dance of dodges.

And then—he felt it.

That rush. The adrenaline of dancing on a tightrope between life and death.

He tilted his body to narrowly avoid a searing beam. He bent backward to dodge another vine, then flipped forward to escape being entangled by a third. He was under constant attack—no time to counter.

"I don't understand! Why isn't it working?!" the loli mage screamed, her eyes bloodshot, watching Greg slip past their attacks like a phantom.

"Die! Die! Die!" she shrieked, hysteria mounting. Madness lurked at the edges of her voice, drawing closer with every passing second.

The swordsman, moving quickly to her side, placed a firm hand on her shoulder to calm her. Their wills were connected—any emotional instability could compromise the entire manifestation.

"He won't escape our world," the swordsman reassured her. "He will die here. So stay calm."

"He's right," the tanker added, his deep voice unwavering. "We'll get justice for our comrades… and spit on that bastard's corpse."

Greg, still dodging the continuous storm of attacks, caught that last remark. The smile on his face disappeared instantly.

He halted mid-dodge and turned, his expression dark and unreadable.

"Oi," he called out, his voice cold and quiet. "Whose corpse do you plan to spit on?"

"Who else? Yours!" the tanker shouted, motioning for the shield-clouds to concentrate their beams on Greg's location.

The swordsman stared at Greg's face and felt a wave of dread wash over him. It was like they had stepped on the tail of a sleeping tiger—and now the beast was enraged.

He didn't understand it… but he wanted to apologize right there and then. Something primal screamed at him to flee and distance himself from his teammates. But he held his ground.

Why am I paranoid? he questioned. We have him cornered. Just a few of my teammates died, and I'm already afraid of him?

Shaking his head, he steadied his nerves as the clouds above glowed ominously.

The concentrated laser beam fired down toward Greg—its power capable of obliterating anything it touched.

"Stop," Greg commanded coldly.

The moment he spoke, reality shifted.

The laser froze mid-air, hanging impossibly still.

The elites were stunned, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"What… is this?" one of the archers muttered, dread creeping into his voice.

Greg's cold gaze locked onto the tanker.

"You just had to open that mouth of yours and ruin my fun," he said darkly. "You should die for that. But I'll make sure you die last. Slowly. In pain. Not even your emperor would dare to boast about spitting on my corpse."

The atmosphere shifted drastically, the inner world growing colder and heavier. The elites felt an overwhelming chill pierce through their hearts.

"A... attack with everything you've got!" the swordsman barked, panic now evident in his voice. "If we don't take him down now—we're doomed!"

Blood trickled from his nose and mouth as he strained himself further than ever before.

He reached out—grasping control of the colossal sword embedded in the center of their world.

He screamed in agony.

"Aaahhhhhh!!!"

He did it.

The sword rose—its weight astronomical, crushing his body under invisible strain. His head throbbed like it was being deep-fried, pain blooming in every nerve.

The massive blade descended toward Greg with tremendous force, threatening to cleave him in two.

But Greg didn't move.

He stood there—arms by his side, expression utterly calm, as if the very sky wasn't about to crush him.

The sword crashed down toward him…

…but stopped—just a hair's breadth from his head.

The blunt side of the enormous sword was caught in Greg's single hand. Its momentum, its weight, its destructive force—all stopped instantly.

The elites stared in disbelief.