Redrick bowed deeply, a final salute before following them.
Lance raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The portal vanished like smoke swept away by the wind.
The next second, a group of soldiers burst in, surrounding Lance from all sides.
Lance simply stood in the center, calm. Like a king on the battlefield, waiting for his turn to show who truly deserves to be feared.
Without any warning, they suddenly raised their weapons and pulled the triggers quickly and without hesitation.
In an instant, a rain of bullets struck the area around Lance, forming a deafening wall of hot lead.
They were using M16 rifles—most likely modified personal versions—with impressive firepower and brutal recoil.
However, even though hundreds, if not thousands, of bullets were fired indiscriminately, the surface of Lance's armor remained unshaken. Not even a scratch marred its color.
Lance merely shook his head, as if bored by the commotion, then swung his sword forward.
The tip of the sword erupted in a dazzling explosion of color, shimmering like shards of a kaleidoscope dancing in the air.
In the whirlwind of chaos, twenty armed men were instantly cleaved in two. Their bodies were sliced apart, dismembered, turning into an unrecognizable heap of flesh and metal.
The room suddenly fell silent. But the silence didn't last long.
Several grenades were thrown from behind a dark corner—a thin shadow behind a pillar, murderous intent behind the explosions.
But before they could touch the floor, Lance raised a finger. A small movement, yet full of power.
The grenades reversed direction, as if the air itself bowed to him.
Then—bang! bang! bang! bang!
A series of explosions shook the room. Green mist erupted and enveloped the air, while screams of pain echoed, creating a symphony of hell.
These people were truly shameless. They carelessly threw toxic gas, as if indifferent to the consequences.
Of course, they weren't afraid of being caught.
The American media claims to be free and democratic, but a dark shadow of politics always looms behind it.
As long as the government chooses to remain silent, the media will comply, pretending to be blind and deaf. The slogan "the people's right to know" is just a ruse to lull a populace that has been deceived for too long.
"Winds of Watoomb!" Lance shouted as he changed the formation of his fingers.
A whirlwind appeared in the middle of the lobby, slicing through the toxic mist like a storm god rising from slumber. The wind swept away the poisonous air in a violent swirling wave.
Then, Lance's eyes shone sharply—two beams of light exploded from his eyes, piercing the green mist and incinerating it in an instant until it evaporated without a trace.
The question now is…
What kind of tactics will they try next?
...
...
...
Lance stepped to the threshold.
In an instant, a dazzling burst of flames erupted from all directions.
Explosion!
More than twenty special rockets detonated simultaneously. The spot where Lance stood was instantly buried in a sea of fire. A shockwave swept through the air, tearing apart half of the magnificent hotel building, which collapsed in a blaze of bright red.
The war paused.
AIM soldiers with rocket launchers on their shoulders, high-ranking commanders observing from a distance, and even civilian spectators caught in the crossfire—all were frozen. Their eyes widened, bodies stiffened, and breaths caught in their throats as the temperature suddenly soared.
The ground around the explosion site transformed into a circle of hell—flames roared, the air vibrated with heat, and even at a distance of several meters, it felt like standing on embers. Some spectators covered their faces, sweat pouring down, yet none turned away.
They waited.
If such a powerful sorcerer could be obliterated by metal, gunpowder, and fire… then humanity still deserved to be the rulers of this world.
If a god could be made to bleed, then humanity would stop worshipping it.
That is the mindset of the Western world: prove that God can be harmed, and faith crumbles.
But what if not? Then the only hope left is to pray. To the Almighty God. To pray that beings like sorcerers are merely servants of God, not new rulers. That they are not interested in power... or money.
Suddenly, a breath was heard from within the flames. Amidst the swirling smoke, Lance began to speak.
"Your weapons are indeed impressive... but now, it's my turn." Lance raised his hand and said coldly, "In the name of Denak—Demon-Claws of Denak."
Whoosh!!
The flames that had been raging wildly suddenly made a sound—hissing and roaring, like an ancient dragon forcibly awakened from its slumber. The roar of hell echoed in the night air, and then—the fire moved.
The flames transformed into giant fiery claws, writhing and roaring like hungry demons. They shot forth, diving in all directions, hunting the shooters like ravenous predators.
The temperature spiked sharply. The heat was unnatural. Upon touching the body, the fire instantly melted the AIM's renowned heat-resistant armor. Metal rifles, bullets, even grenades melted into liquid iron in an instant, dripping from the melting hands.
Hysterical screams erupted among the spectators.
Some soldiers still stood despite being on fire, their bodies writhing like living torches, yet their eyes were cold and empty.
"We are not afraid to die for this cause!"
"Attack! Die together!"
They, the AIM soldiers, were the result of Hydra's brainwashing. Fanatical. Stubborn. Some continued to charge forward even as their bodies burned. They clutched high-powered grenades to their chests, hoping to drag Lance down with them.
They rarely managed to take two steps before the fire consumed them alive. But none of them screamed for mercy.
That is the true power of Hydra: not technology, but the blind faith instilled so perfectly.
Yet in the eyes of the spectators, it was not courage.
It was madness.
And there is nothing more terrifying than people who toy with their own lives like cheap playthings.
"Next!" Lance shouted.
Wherever Lance swung his sword—Golden Dagger, it created a whirlwind of sharp wind that swept away the dust and remnants of fire around him.
------------------------------
[Announcement: A New Novel Has Been Added!
The Puppet Maker in the World of Naruto
A man who is a scientist, researcher, and expert mechanic in robotics dies in a massive explosion that occurs in his laboratory while developing an advanced robot project. However, instead of experiencing death as he thought, the man awakens in another world—a strange place with vast stretches of desert.
There, the man is surrounded by people who can jump high, calling themselves ninjas. The confusion he initially felt grows as he realizes that this world is not unfamiliar to him. This is the world of Naruto! However, there is one thing that surprises him.
"Isn't this Sunagakure? Why am I not in Konoha? This poorest village... Oh my God, this is serious!"
Now, in the midst of a new life filled with danger and uncertainty, the scientist must find a way to survive in Sunagakure, a harsh place full of limitations. With his robotic knowledge, can the man change his fate in this ninja world, or will he fall along with the village?]
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