"Warrior"

Inside the palace of the Boleslaw hive tower, amidst a bloody mist, the flak armor Rawlslev had stripped from a corpse shattered as his frame suddenly expanded by a full size.

His previously merely robust physique instantly became brawny and powerful.

"Now, do as I say. Control the overflowing power..."

The Warrior potion strengthened the physical body but did not enhance the mental body. It took Rawlslev three times longer than it had taken Bukayo to consolidate the overflowing power, and ten times longer to barely grasp the method of meditation.

"My lord, I..."

Rawlslev took an excited step forward, but his uncontrollable superhuman agility caused him to lose his balance, sending him lunging straight ahead.

To give Rawlslev an unforgettable lesson and teach him the importance of controlling his power, Nimrod shifted slightly to the side, causing the new Warrior to slam headfirst into the wall.

With a loud boom, the immense force shook the wall, and Rawlslev saw stars, only regaining his senses a moment later.

Nimrod's voice echoed in his ears, "Master your power."

Rawlslev steadied himself with a hand to his forehead, feeling that his injuries were not as severe as he had imagined; had this been before, he would likely have been unable to recover for several minutes.

The Master is a god. Only a god could bestow such power upon me!

He hurried before Nimrod, knelt on one knee, and kept his gaze fixed on his master's steel boots.

"My lord, I will never fail to live up to your trust!"

Nimrod helped him up, his majestic voice resounding.

"I believe in you!"

Rawlslev's tears were nearly ready to spill over, but fortunately, the buzzing of his communicator sounded just in time.

Other than his master, the only people who could contact him were Bukayo and the deputy he had just appointed. He suppressed his surging emotions.

"My lord... please forgive me!"

Rawlslev adjusted quickly, his tone returning to normal.

"It is of no consequence."

After Rawlslev connected, his deputy's anxious voice came through.

"My lord, an aristocratic armed force has launched an attack on the defensive line. House Finde is on the verge of collapse."

At this moment, Nimrod watched the charge of thousands of enemy troops below through the viewing window.

He did not turn around, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Go, my Warrior. Only in battle will you be able to master the power I have bestowed upon you."

"Remember! Decapitation!"

"As you command, my lord!"

Rawlslev felt the weight of trust once more; his hot blood and fighting spirit were instantly ignited.

Turning to leave the palace, he dashed downward with incredible speed.

My speed has increased by more than several times. It is not just the difference between moving up and charging down; my speed has improved far too much.

His gaze fell upon a corpse, and his intuition immediately confirmed that the armor on it would fit him.

Rawlslev used his immense strength to tear off his own flak armor and donned the new set, which fit perfectly.

He then picked up a las-pistol and a chainsword.

As he gripped the two weapons, he had a strange sensation, as if they were extensions of his own body.

The information that had flooded his mind earlier surfaced: [Proficiency in all weapons and armor; no weapon exists that cannot be used].

Immediately after, his master's words echoed in his mind: "Master your power."

As the Warrior leaped downward, he swung the weapons in his hands.

A rapid forward thrust, a backhanded aim while turning...

When he stepped out of the hive tower, Rawlslev's eyes were filled with confidence. He had mastered the basics of his extraordinary ability—"Physical Enhancement."

He scanned the enemy ranks, silently chanting "Decapitation" in his heart.

Rawlslev instantly spotted the commander in the red robe amidst the enemy formation, a mocking smile curling his lips.

Yes, you aristocratic commanders always wear the most conspicuous red robes!

He knew he could not charge into the enemy ranks alone like his master, so he summoned the hundred-man squad under his direct command.

"Follow me! Slay the enemy commander!"

"Yes!"

The gang elites were shocked to see Rawlslev, who usually charged alongside them, surging ahead of everyone else. He raised his hand and fired a shot, the laser beam accurately piercing the space between the eyes of an enemy thirty meters away.

They couldn't help but wonder, When did the boss become so fierce? Even with an aristocratic las-pistol, it is impossible to accurately kill an enemy's vital point while running.

They fired their own newly acquired weapons, only to find that while their accuracy had indeed improved, it was nowhere near as exaggerated as their boss's.

Every time Rawlslev pulled the trigger, an enemy fell, and he instantly carved his way into the enemy ranks.

The valiant Warrior drew the enemy's fire in an instant, dozens of hostile weapons locking onto him and unleashing a barrage.

Rawlslev rolled across the ground, ducking behind the cover of an abandoned fortification.

"Idiots! Attack!"

His subordinates hurriedly raised their weapons and opened fire.

Rawlslev quickly swapped his energy magazine, and while his men drew the enemy's fire, he broke into a full sprint.

The wind whistled past his ears as he raised his left arm and pulled the trigger.

Rat-tat-tat...

A burst of rapid fire struck the enemies true.

The Red-Robed Commander realized his personal guards had been slaughtered in the blink of an eye.

Where did such a fierce man come from? Could it be Thierry Vieira, the bounty hunter who has recently risen to fame? But isn't he supposed to be operating in the Ailupo Hive?

The roar of a Chainsword echoed in his ears; he had no time to ponder, raising his hand to fire a shot.

Rawlslev, his eyes locked onto him, immediately ducked to avoid the shot, then launched a flying kick that slammed into the Red-Robed Commander's arm.

With a crisp snap, the noble commander's arm was broken.

Such immense brute strength.

He stumbled backward, drawing a magnificent Power Sword and executing a strike according to the 23rd verse of the Ausberch-Vaya style.

Since his strength and agility were inferior to his opponent's, he had to rely on technique; the essence of this Vostonia combat art was to identify the enemy's openings and seize the moment to deflect their offensive power.

High atop the hive tower, Nimrod, who had been watching the battle, felt his eyes light up and whispered.

"Interesting."

The Power Sword struck exactly at Rawlslev's sword-wielding right arm, but fortunately, at the critical moment, the Warrior shifted his arm.

The Power Sword glanced off, slicing only the armor on the outer side of his arm rather than cleaving through his wrist.

The Red-Robed Commander was startled; he retracted his blade to prepare a parry, but Rawlslev was faster.

The noble commander felt the trajectory of the Chainsword attack was somewhat familiar, but before he could identify the move, his defenses were shredded.

The Red-Robed Commander was shocked; he had recognized that the plebeian before him was using the very Ausberch-Vaya he had spent years of grueling practice to master, and his eyes widened.

"How? Ah!"

Rawlslev did not answer his question, ending the noble commander's life with a single, decisive slash.

Howard, who had just pushed open the blast door and stepped out of the assault craft, happened to witness the scene.

Malchuk was a master swordsman; he contributed greatly to Shimanski's expansion over the last thirty years, slaying countless powerful foes. To think he was...

He frowned and pondered for a moment before recalling the middle-aged gang member's name.

Rawlslev actually killed Malchuk. He was nothing more than a nameless under-hive ganger before; how is he this strong? No, that's impossible. If he had this kind of capability, he would have ascended to the upper hive long ago.

Just as he was deep in thought, Rawlslev walked up to him.

"You've returned. What is the situation?"

Having become a "Warrior," Rawlslev's temperament had quietly shifted; in his heart, only Nimrod was supreme, and neither Tech-Priests nor nobles could make him think otherwise.

"Hmm..." Howard was stunned for a moment, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but he did not pursue the matter, offering a smile instead. "Mission accomplished."

"You have changed. You are stronger than when you climbed the tower."

"This is the power bestowed by the Master. Perhaps one day, you too shall receive such a gift."