A breeze swept across the ground, stirring up dust.
The Stitched Behemoth, a creature as huge as a mountain, vanished with the wind, along with its world-shattering roar.
Dead silence fell over the walls of Black Stone Fortress.
Thousands of players stood frozen, caught mid-charge or holding defensive stances.
Guild leader Dragon Fights in the Wild stood with his mouth open, the arm gripping his long blade still trembling. It was not fear, but shock beyond anything he could comprehend.
The despair he had felt when the energy shield shattered still lingered in his mind, as did the sight of hundreds of destructive beams that could have vaporized the fortress.
Then that man had appeared.
And then it was over.
It had happened too fast for him to make out any details. All that remained was the outcome, seared into everyone's eyes.
Killed in an instant.
That had been a Level 100 Epic-grade World BOSS, a monster that several top guilds would have needed to join forces against, and even then they could only hope to defeat it at a terrible cost.
Yet one player had wiped it out with a wave of his hand. No, that was no player. That was a being of another order entirely.
"What... was that...?"
A mage muttered the question, his voice dry.
No one could answer him.
At the center of the battlefield, the figure responsible slowly turned toward Black Stone Fortress.
Only then did the players on the walls get a clear look at him.
He looked young, but when his gaze swept over them, Dragon Fights in the Wild felt his heart stop.
It was neither killing intent nor an oppressive aura.
It was the absolute regard of a being on a higher plane of existence.
As though, simply by standing