Chaos.

  A single, five-letter word that perfectly described what followed Isaac’s decision to attack.

  It began with a tsunami of blood erupting from his body. The nearby monsters never stood a chance and surrendered to the flood. For a heartbeat, the tunnels fell silent. Then the clattering and clicking returned—panicked, frantic.

  Isaac grinned and, with the Root in hand, charged.

  Unlike in many of his past battles, where he held a massive power advantage, this time, he didn’t hold anything back. He moved with all the strength his body could offer, while his Viron transformed into the most powerful version of his skills.

  There was no time to waste. No reason to drag this out.

  Every swing of the Root took down at least a handful of the crabs—Crystalics, as the Interface labeled them. Their bodies shattered, leaving behind pieces of glass and colorful crystals.

  Once, in the beginning, Isaac tried to reach toward the corpses with tendrils of blood. After all, if he could resurrect the beasts as his puppets, his job would become much easier.

  To no avail.

  No matter how much Viron he poured into the shattered remains, Red Puppeteer could not anchor itself. They were dead, and yet they resisted his touch. How? He wasn’t so sure.

  It could be because the beasts had no blood, but that didn’t make much sense. In the past, Isaac had taken over many monsters that also had no blood at all. Was it harder? Yes, but not impossible.

  The condition of the crabs’ bodies wasn’t the issue either. He always targeted those that remained mostly intact.

  So why? What made the small glass-like creatures so special?

  Isaac had no idea, but he made sure to remember that Red Puppeteer could be resisted. Learn something new every day, as they say.

  Unfortunately, without puppets, he had to do everything himself. One man against a never-ending swarm of crystal monsters—ones that refused to face him and preferred to run in the opposite direction.

  Isaac clicked his tongue and sped up with a flicker of Burnout.

  Oh, he could have transformed and activated Crimson Fury to make this easier. But there was a difference between not holding back and outright overkill. And using an ultimate against enemies that didn’t even fight back? That was the definition of overkill.

  His human form was more than enough for this one-sided slaughter. He just had to play it somewhat smart.

  Isaac spun on his heel and shot forward, ignoring all the skittering crabs in his path. Instead, he allowed the growing wave of blood trailing behind him to deal with them.

  Almost there.

  Another turn, another Obliteration to clear the way, and his destination appeared in his sight.

  The entrance to the chamber housing the Dimensional Tear.

  The massive crystal golem stood motionless before the portal. It had no eyes, yet Isaac felt its glare, felt the power building within it. It was far beyond anything a Moderate-rank threat beast should have access to.

  Still, he didn’t stop.

  A pull on the blood following him filled him with power. A small chunk went into the Burst building up inside his body. The rest rushed toward the Root, which he now gripped with both hands.

  Then, in a blink, he was gone, reappearing just a couple of steps away from the golem.

  Sacrificial Cursed Draw.

  Two swift swings. That was all it took.

  Twin crescents of pure blood tore free from the Root, crossing each other in the shape of a crimson cross. A second later, they slammed into the golem.

  It died on the spot, four uneven parts of the beast crumbling to the ground.

  The chamber shuddered lightly, silence once more filling the tunnels. Isaac paused as well and turned toward the tunnel he had come from.

  With the wave of blood gone, the crabs were free to go wherever they wanted. Yet, they didn’t. The swarm stopped by the chamber’s entrance, their pincers frozen, glowing eyes brighter than headlights.

  Fear.

  By now, Isaac could recognize it at a glance, even if the beasts didn’t have the most expressive features. He had seen it far too many times, be it in monsters, aliens, or other humans.

  Was this golem really that important?

  Sure, the attack it had been preparing felt dangerous. He had even lost another three percent of Virus Integrity in that brief moment. That said, the crystal golem itself was weak—nothing an average citizen of Silent Oasis couldn’t handle.

  And yet, the crabs reacted to its death as if their god had fallen.

  Isaac sighed, summoning dozens of Blood Daggers around him.

  Whatever. Less work from me this way.

  And with that thought, he was off.

  Isaac rolled his shoulders as he stepped back into the portal chamber. The Root vanished from his hand, returning to slumber within its tattoo. It wouldn’t be needed anymore. At least not for now.

  Okay… How are we on time? he wondered, summoning his Interface. An hour? Not bad. Felt much longer.

  With a shrug, he dismissed the Interface and its notifications. Nothing aside from kill confirmations. A pity. He had killed hundreds, if not thousands, in the past hour. A single level or some skill progression would have been a nice reward.

  Alas, the universe decided that bullying some poor crabs wasn’t enough.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Can’t have everything.

  Isaac stopped just a couple of feet away from the Dimensional Rift and closed his eyes.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Better, he noted. Much better.

  The Interface might have given him no rewards or progress, but at the very least, his massacre had one positive outcome. The weakening of the corruption.

  It still pressed down on his shoulders, but the weight was nowhere near what he felt when he first stepped inside this place. His regeneration no longer struggled, and his Virus Integrity had returned to full health.

  Apparently, the crabs and the golem had been partially responsible for spreading the corruption.

  Who would have thought?

  Isaac let out a snort before opening the Communication Menu. Better let the others know he was alive. The corruption might be weakened, but he doubted many could handle it even now. And knowing his friends, they would rush here if they thought his life was at risk.

  As much as that warmed his heart, he couldn’t allow that. None of them were regenerators like him.

  That’s done. Your turn then, he thought, his gaze on the swirling Dimensional Tear. Can I destroy you? Weaken you?

  The obvious answer was no, but Isaac still felt like he should try. He couldn’t make matters worse after making them better, right? Just a few simple tests, nothing more.

  Nodding to himself, he backed off a couple of steps and raised his right hand, palm up. Slowly, a red spear formed above it, about half his height. It wasn’t just a simple construct, though. No, with another touch of Viron, he infused it with the concept of Obliteration.

  It wasn’t quite the perfect reimagining of Crimson Death, but it was close.

  Go.

  At his command, the spear shot forward, right at the Dimensional Tear. It reached the swirling mass of energies within the blink of an eye and—

  —disappeared.

  Isaac grimaced.

  Yeah. Really should have expected that.

  For a moment, he considered throwing something stronger into the portal, only to stop himself. What were the odds it wouldn’t eat those, too? Almost close to zero. Better to focus on something else.

  Like the colorful veins extending from the edges of the Tear.

  Might as well.

  The Root returned to his hand. Isaac approached one of the thickest veins half-buried into the floor and swung. His arms rattled on impact, numbness spreading through his flesh.

  Ouch?

  He looked down at where the blade met the crystalline vein and frowned. It wasn’t that his attack failed, it just didn’t really do much. The vein was maybe five inches thick, yet the Root hadn’t even cut through a tenth of it.

  His frown deepened.

  It had been a while since the Root had underperformed this much. Worse, the little damage he did healed right in front of his eyes. Dark tendrils burst from the wound, covered it, then sank back in, leaving the vein undamaged.

  Maybe something stronger?

  Again, Isaac backed off, the Root now in both hands. Viron stirred, as did Immortal Mana, pulled in by Mana Surge. Blood straight from his Genesis Core joined the two energies.

  One. Two. Three…

  He swung.

  A thick, black-red arc of blood-like energy escaped the Root, slamming right into the vein before him.

  The alien organism lost.

  Like flesh, the vein parted, leaving a few-inch gap between the severed ends. Isaac smiled and stepped forward to inspect the damage closely.

  Too late.

  Before he could even crouch, familiar dark tendrils came out of the damaged vein. In one second, the two severed parts were reconnected. In another, the darkness vanished, and the vein was whole once more.

  “So that’s how it is,” Isaac muttered. “Annoying.”

  Still, he discovered that the veins could be destroyed, if only temporarily. Did that affect the Dimensional Tear?

  That the Interface refused to tell him.

  Yet another mystery to figure out. Not for him, though.

  His job was done. Time to head back.

  And so, ignoring the charging portal, Isaac turned around and marched back into the tunnels.

  Thanks to all the marks Isaac had left behind during his descent, the way back didn’t take as long. It was boring, though. His only real entertainment came from the occasional crystal crab he encountered along the way. Their fear amused him to no end.

  Aside from that, nothing really caught his attention.

  The colorful crystals remained a constant presence, while the weakened corruption still fought a losing battle against his regeneration. That said, the latter vanished long before he reached the red line on the floor that should have marked its beginning.

  Small wins.

  Marie and a few others—her bodyguards?—were also waiting for him at the red line. Why here and not outside, he didn’t know. Still, he accepted the offered hug and proceeded to explain everything in detail to the woman.

  Once he finished, he asked his first question.

  “Any ideas?”

  Marie scrunched up her brow. “A few… We have a couple people with nature-based Origins. They have a purification skill. We use it on water and food, but we can try it again here.”

  Isaac arched an eyebrow. “Again?”

  “It was the first thing I tried when we discovered this place,” she said. “Obviously, it didn’t work.”

  “But now that the monsters are dead…” he muttered, trailing off.

  Marie nodded. “Exactly.”

  Isaac hummed, his gaze falling to the pure white crystals lining the walls. “What about those? They’re supposed to have purification properties.”

  “Yeah, but we have no idea how to use them. For now, they are just big, powerful batteries,” she said, then offered him a small smile. “Don’t worry. I will figure this out. It’s my job.”

  “Just don’t overdo it, okay? Or it won’t be only James nagging you to rest. I will sic Elaine on you.”

  Marie huffed, crossing her arms. “As if she’s any better. Or you, for that matter.”

  Isaac raised his hands in surrender and wisely kept quiet. Yeah, she was kind of right. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t tattle on her if she tried to handle this mess alone. She might be the kindest and most organized among his friends, but that didn’t make her any less stubborn.

  Sometimes, he wondered how they all got along so well when they shared that particular trait to such a scary degree. Even James, who loved compromises, was sometimes stubborn to a fault.

  Or maybe that’s exactly why we work so well together? Isaac mused, chuckling to himself. Yeah, no.

  Once Isaac returned to Silent Oasis, the day passed in relative peace.

  He went out to check how James and his family were settling into the house Marie had prepared for them, received a delicious meal from it, and then went out into the village alone. It might be his new home, but amid the chaos of the past few weeks, he never cared to see what it had to offer.

  Well, today that changed.

  Maybe there were no big restaurants or food stands here like on the Battleworld, but they had a tavern. Not a small one either. Marie obviously sacrificed a lot of resources to make the three-story building into what it was now. The inside seemed homely too, if maybe a bit too dark.

  In any case, after looking around and sampling what passed for beer—two out of ten, muddy water tasted better—Isaac headed toward the part of the village where the artisans lived. He doubted he could find anything of worth there, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

  Only, he never made it there.

  As Isaac casually strolled through the busy streets, he never expected for the Symphony and all his other senses to scream at him in warning. He froze, Viron surging to his hands as his eyes tried to locate the threat.

  Then, he felt it. A sharp sting on the right side of his chest.

  Isaac didn’t hesitate.

  On pure instinct, his hand snapped forward, fingers closing around something invisible—a wrist.

  He yanked it away from his chest, the stinging lessening but not gone. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he twisted the wrist and shoved it toward its unseen owner.

  A strangled choke answered him.

  A hooded man materialized beside him, a sickly green dagger now plunged into his chest. The man coughed again, blood spilling from his mouth. A heartbeat later, he dropped to the ground, unmoving.

  Isaac blinked, his chest beginning to burn from the inside out.

  What the hell?