The four were using a different set of items.
Lexel's world was a haze of pain, but his one good eye, still half-open, could see them. They were not light bosses. They were bosses.
There was a burly man with a morning star, his armor so heavy and thick it looked like it belonged on a fortress wall. He was bigger than Lungard, the one with the greatsword, and his white and golden armor gleamed, spotless. "Lungard, you started without me, how dare you, hahaha!" his voice boomed, shaking the dust from the cleaved trees.
Lexel's head throbbed. 'Great... another one.'
Beside him, a tall woman with dark, painted lips and brown hair watched. Her eyes were a sparkling, unnatural purple, and she wore all black. Her aura was menacing, a cold dread that Lexel could feel on his skin, even from the ground. Her fingernails were long, sharp, and made of polished black metal. Her weapons. But in her other hand, she held a small, dark wand.
"Well, well," she purred, her voice like silk drawn over steel. "Three unknown subjects. Are they dead? Probably not, no 'loot' is formed."
The other one was a slender man with glasses. He was the shortest of them all, even shorter than the lady. He was shrouded in dark, light clothes, but from the maroon outline of the cloth, Lexel could tell it wasn't ordinary fabric. Even the way he stepped, sound was barely emitted. He was an assassin.
"I see that you unleashed a Giga Slash," the slender man said, his voice a dry rasp. "Destroyed the forest. And perhaps... invited unnecessary troubles."
"No need to worry about that," said a new man with a bow behind his back. He was the leanest of them all and had a strange, brimmed hat. The bow was exquisite, a pale white, and it was glowing, the string itself pulsing with a faint, steady energy. "The full party is here."
"The threat is gone," said Lungard, the Black Knight. He nudged Lexel's unconscious body with his boot. The thud sent a jolt of pure agony up Lexel's spine. "Might as well go back. We've already made contact."
"Why not go deeper?" asked the man with the bow. Before anyone could answer, his right eye glowed with a blue, targeting light. "[Scope!]"
His vision, enhanced by his skill, now went deeper, beyond the destruction, miles into the endless forest. He blinked once, and the light deactivated. He sighed. "That's disappointing. There is nothing beyond that forest. Just wilderness."
"Well, should we kill these brats instead?" asked the slender man, his tongue flicking out to lick both of his magic daggers.
"Don't do that," the woman said. Her purple eyes lit up. She walked over, her black robes gliding over the ruined grass, and looked down at the trio. She then turned to Lungard. "Lungard, if you needed to unleash a Giga Slash to end the fight, perhaps these ones... posed a threat to you?"
Lungard shook his head, a motion of pure arrogance. "They were [Unregistered]. Their 'skills' were strange, but weak. Futile. However," he added, "it would be a great benefit to your... 'arsenal of slaves.' They can unleash skill, and magic as well, almost the same as us."
The four of them raised their brows in surprise. But the woman's, Bijia's, eyes soon turned to delight.
"Well, well, well," she licked her dark lips, her purple eyes tracing the trio's forms. "What a blessed day. Three [Unregistered] 'magic-users' from a 'Black Portal'? The research alone is priceless."
She looked at the one with the morning star. "Brok, dear, can you help me pick them up? Bring them to my 'room'?"
"Hehehe, will I get a reward, Bijia?" said Brok, his booming voice turning into a lecherous rumble as he looked at the woman's figure.
"Of course," she winked at him.
Lexel could hardly hear anything. The words were a muffled drone, lost in the ringing in his ears. His eyes barely moved, his vision swimming. He could see his two brothers, Myda and Seleron, facedown, a pool of their own blood spreading beneath them.
No...
I need to... help them... somehow!
But his body rejected his will. Every breath felt like he was trying to breathe from the peak of a mountain. Everything was pain. The Giga Slash hadn't just hit him; it had overloaded him. His meridians felt like they were on fire, his Cultivation gone, exhausted, broken.
I was... careless.
He said inwardly. He watched, helpless, as the burly man, Brok, laughed and picked up both of his brothers, slinging them over his massive shoulders like sacks of grain.
The party was starting to return to the black portal. Brok, Bijia, the archer, the assassin... all of them were leaving.
Except for Lungard.
I am... still weak.
He saw Lungard stepping into his view. A black-gauntletted hand grabbed the back of his shattered armor. He was carried over Lungard's back, like some sort of trophy from a hunt.
He dangled, his eyes looking at the ground, his body limp. He was about to enter the unknown.
But I'm... still... not alone.
His finger, hidden by his side, barely flicked. A small, smooth stone—a Summoning Ruby Stone given to him by his mother, Cecile, for "emergencies"—filled his right hand.
Red as a ruby. Pulsing.
He gripped it. Tight.
His hand trembled. His muscles, broken, tautened. It was everything he had. He squeezed.
It cracked.
A flash of a smirk crossed Lexel's bloody lips.
"Hm?" Lungard was one step away from entering the black portal. He felt a spike of "unregistered" energy. He turned around. "NGh?!"
The sky!
It turned into night! A deep, crimson, blood-red night.
He blinked. The day returned. It was just a flash.
"What...?"
Meanwhile, at the same time, in Empyrean's grand chamber...
A lithe woman was half-naked on a grand, silken bed. Her hair, a fiery auburn, was styled in a complex dragon braid. She was, by all mortal and divine standards, as beautiful as the empire itself. Her breasts were only covered with a thin, white silk sheet.
"I'm ready to take the lead, Lyon," she said, her voice a low, throaty purr that could melt nations.
She glanced over the balcony, ready for her husband...
And she saw it.
A single, red streak of light arched away from Empyrean, shooting down toward the Mortal Realm at impossible speeds.
Her playful expression vanished.
"Lyon...?" She furrowed her brows. Her "War-God" senses, dormant for "Anniversary Week," ignited.
Her goosebumps rose.
"The kids!" she shouted.
She put away the white silk, for a slight moment, the most beautiful creature in the three worlds was revealed bare. But then, the moment she took off from the balcony, her golden "Regalia" armor adorned her figure, and a divine, golden trident was in her hand.
Under the balcony, everyone saw her taking flight. Graham, Assid, Ian, Liu, Kesya. The five pillars of six saw their empress, their master's wife, gliding with a battle-ready garment—her most feared, three-set Regalia.
"Let's go!" Kesya shouted, her "party" mood gone, replaced by cold fury as she took the first leap to follow her, from the ground.
Graham plunged himself to the sky, a silent, ashen meteor.
Assid adjusted his glasses and said, "I will fetch Harvestasya."
Ian and Liu were like shadows overlapping each other as they moved right behind Kesya. And all five of them were radiating war intent.
Yet, as the three of them followed from the ground, a shadowy figure passed them by with ease. Her blade was as dark as night, like the day couldn't reach it, the darkness with no end, the void.
Selena drew her sword and slashed the space open like a zipper, before she plunged into the maelstrom of Spatial Storm. Kesya, Ian, and Liu immediately followed inside, to the realm where self-proclaimed gods could be smitten in one strike of lightning.
Returning to Lungard...
"What was that..." he thought.
Before he could analyze it, he saw a new light. A red, sparking light. It was the "streak" Cecile had seen. It was coming.
It crashed right in front of him.
BOOM!
Lungard covered his eyes, his heavy armor holding against the shockwave. He looked at the figure emerging from the rising dust. He furrowed his brows.
He threw Lexel's unconscious body through the black portal on instinct. "Get him!"
"Hey, what's the matter?!" the slender man shouted, returning from the portal. "Why you—"
The dust settled.
It revealed a man. He was not as young as the trio, but his face... it was as if all three of their faces resembled his.
He had jet-black hair. A lean physique and a ribbed body.
One should know... they should know... because this man arrived naked.
Yet, his jet-black eyes were not confused. They were sharp, and they were burning.
A killing intent—an "unquantifiable," real killing intent—erupted from him, so powerful that the air itself grew heavy. The slender man and Lungard heard their own heartbeats in their ears.
"Where," Lyon Torga asked, his voice a low, terrifying calm, "are my sons?!"