Cold blade light swept across the remnant sun like a sickle in late autumn, scraping over the earth and harvesting lives.
At first, there was only the clattering crash of blades colliding, mixed with the roar of machinery and the blasts of exhaust flames.
But soon, those sounds became the ripping screech of sharp blades cutting through metal, the crackling hiss of leaking current, and the thunderous explosions of High Performance Batteries.
Amid the blooming flames, the bloodstained figure advanced step by step.
This was not a battle, but a one-sided slaughter.
One figure after another charged without hesitation toward the heavily wounded man standing at the center of the battlefield, only to have their bodies sliced apart by the flashing Mantis Blades. They scattered into explosive flames and shattered parts like straw.
Flashes of light streaked through the sky—shots fired by miniature Laser Cannons and Plasma Cannons.
Those lights overlapped, nearly weaving the sky into a net of radiance. Together with the exploding flames, they illuminated the world beneath the remnant sun with dazzling brilliance.
Yet amid that dense barrage of lasers and Plasma Cannons, the blood-soaked figure continued forward at an unhurried pace, walking ahead as though taking a leisurely stroll.
The incoming rays of light seemed to deliberately avoid him, always missing by the slightest margin as they brushed past his sides.
A bloodstained cigarette glimmered amid the flames, while the severed Mantis Blades flickered with faint arcs of electricity in the light.
Every rise of blade light claimed a life.
So many advanced prosthetic bodies, such elite weapons and equipment—against any C-class Transcendent at full strength, they would have torn them apart in a swarm so long as they dared to fight.
But before this man, whose body was riddled with Bullet Holes and looked so