The red lights pulsed by the corridor, as the buildings shakes again because of the explosions
Commander Lion stomp the ground with his feet, hand on his holster, speaking through the radio: "Status report! How many intruders?"
"No one's answering?" Yvonne muttered, her dagger fully drawn now, her stance shifting to guard the door.
Varak's grin widens, "Hear that? You'll all be dead when they get here!"
Shouts echoed from the halls—gunfire, spells being casted, multiple explosions.
Lion glanced at Yvonne. "Stay with him. I'll handle the breach."
He walk out of the Interrogation room, the door slamming behind him.
Yvonne turned to Varak, her expression unreadable. "Your friends won't make it far."
Varak laughed arrogantly. "Oh, they will. And when they do—"
two dozen demon cult memvers in hooded robes, wielding swords and dark mana orbs—stormed the lower levels.
They chanted few dark spells, shadows writhing around them like living allies, blasting through security checkpoints with bursts of void energy.
Guards fell back, firing multiple rounds of bullets, but the cultists pressed on and broke their defense with ease.
"Free Varak!" their leader shouted, shattering a reinforced door with a mana-infused kick.
The cultists halted abruptly as a single figure stepped into the main hallway: Commander Lion.
He stood like a menace, his silver mane disheveled from the sprint, uniform sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle like steel cables.
No weapon in hand—just fists clenched at his sides turning white as viens popped out of it.
The air around him seemed to thicken, his presence alone enough to make the shadows recoil.
The cult leader sneered, raising his staff. "Out of the way, old man."
Dark bolts lanced forward from the group, a barrage of void projectiles aimed to shred him.
Lion didn't dodge or block.
He charged—bare-handed, each step cracking the floor tiles.
The bolts struck him, but his body absorbed the impacts like a rock mountain tank, his mascular body was enough to handle such an pathetic attack.
"You're not gonna go pass anywhere else from this corner without beating me." Leo declared.
His knuckles turned white as he walk closer like an absolute menace.
He reached the first cultist in a blur, his fist swinging that connected with the man's chest.
The punch was fatal—one hit, and the cultist's ribcage fractured inward with a sickening crunch, bones splintering. "Kaagh—"
Cultist member sent flying by the force back into three of his comrades from behind, bowling them over.
The cultists swarmed him, blades flashing—cursed daggers enchanted, staffs summoning shadow monsters.
"Just give up already old man!" One of the cultist yelled in a arrogant tone.
A pair flanked him, slashing at his sides.
"You cannot possibly beat us, we have more numbers!" One of them barked.
Lion spun, his left hook catching one of the cultist in the jaw; the impact fractured the skull instantly, the cultist's head snapping back at an unnatural angle as he dropped lifeless.
The other stabbed forward—Lion grabbed the blade bare-handed, ignoring the cut as he yanked the attacker close and delivered an punch at the face that shattered the skull, the man crumpled, gasping.
"Pathetic, is this all the Demon Cult can do?" Lion mocked.
A group of five rushed him all together, mana orbs exploding in dark bursts. "You old man! Die already—"
Lion barreled through, his punches delivering a barrage down the hallway without any mana.
One cultist's arm fractured at the elbow from a blocked strike; another's collarbone snapped under a downward hammer fist.
Lion grabbed the third by the robe, lifting him effortlessly and slamming him into the floor—spine fracturing on impact.
The fourth tried a spell; Lion's straight punch to the gut fractured ribs and ruptured organs, dropping him in agony.
The fifth swung a blade—Lion caught his wrist, twisting until the forearm bones cracked, then finished with a headbutt that fractured the skull.
The remaining cultists faltered.
Their leader fired a desperate void beam; Lion sidestepped and closed the distance in two strides, his fist rocketing forward.
"You lot were getting beaten by an old man who has no mana. Are youngsters really this weak from this generstion with such an advance technology?" Lion muttered in a cold and mocking tone.
He grabbed the leader by the head and brutally smash it into the wall three times in a row, the leader's entire skeletal structure fractured, bones giving way like glass shattering.
He collapsed in a wheezing heap, the rescue attempt failed by the hands of Lion.
In under two minutes, the hallway was littered with groaning, broken cultists—none dead, but all incapacitated, their bones fractured in ways that would require months of healing.
Lion stood amid the wreckage, breathing steady, fists bloodied but unbroken.
He cracked his knuckles, surveying the scene with a grim nod. "Amateurs."
Guards rushed in, cuffing the survivors as the alarms wound down.
Lion radioed up: "Breach contained." The Demon Cult's "rescue" had failed spectacularly, their forces now joining Varak in cells."
Not a single cultist made it past the lobby vending machine.
Back in the interrogation room, the alarms quieted to a distant beep.
The door opened again, Lion striding in with a smirk, wiping dust from his uniform.
Behind him, officers dragged in the bound rescuers, piling them unceremoniously in the corner like discarded laundry.
Varak's grin faded to a slack-jawed stare. "What... how?"
Yvonne has a rare hint of amusement in her eyes. "You guys never learns."
"Now let's get into the real business..." Her dagger touching Varak's chin.
— Brocéliande Forest (Paimpont Forest) near the city of Rennes —
The Brocéliande Forest, a sprawling expanse of ancient oaks and twisted undergrowth near Rennes, had long been whispered about in legends—tales of Merlin's tomb, fairy enchantments, and hidden gateways to other realms.
But today, those myths paled against the reality thundering through its heart.
The air was thick with the scent of crushed pine and damp earth, mingled with the acrid tang of smoke from uprooted trees set ablaze.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy in fractured beams, casting eerie shadows that danced amid the chaos.
Birds had fled, leaving an unnatural silence broken only by the distant rumble of destruction.
At the forest their stood a colossal golem, towering nearly 90 meters high—a gigantic behemoth forged from a stone, moss-covered boulders, and twisted vines climbing its body like viens.
Classified as an S-Threat monster or higher by several Adventurer Association scouts.
The Golem started walking forward with earth-shaking step crushing trees beneath it.