“...Bastien,” called Xiuying, patting the seat next to her on the couch. The news were on. It was the regularly-scheduled update on the Great Crisis, where analysts spoke about how the world was combating the rise of expeditions. Some days had great news, some days had bad.

There was this odd existential dread that hung over Bastien but at the same time, it seemed so far away that he didn’t care for it much; all he could do was focus on what he had now. Like for example, his gorgeous wife who looked amazing after having two kids and still had an adorable Chinese accent. His children. Excitable Alexander and sassy Althea.

Obeying his wife, Bastien sat down, curled an arm around her shoulder and watched the balding man on TV talk numbers, dumbing it down enough for laymen like him.

“You shouldn’t be watching this stuff. It’s too damn depressing,” he told her, searching for the remote but couldn’t find it—he couldn’t find anything in this damned house.

“It’s good to be informed,” she argued. “Since the breakthrough scare in California, it’s all anyone talks about these days. Many of my coworkers pretend to be experts though, it’s frustrating to see. They think they know it all…”

“And you’re the expert?” Bastien asked, teasing.

Xiuying nodded, laughing—she had a wonderful laugh. “Of course I am. I made the intelligent decision to marry you, after all, despite my aunts telling me that you’re a brute.”

“Uh huh—”

“I also manage our budget and prevent you from buying random things. I’m also the cook, and I’m the one the teachers call whenever something happens with our kids.”

“You’re ruthless.”

“I know.”

They laughed together and shared a quick kiss.

“Speaking of our children, Alex was rambling to me earlier,” Xiuying mentioned afterwards, patting her husband’s leg. “He’s been doing research on his own, speaking about these martial arts from all over the world: Taekwondo, muay Thai, names that I haven’t heard of in my life. He’s never been this interested before. It’s like he exploded.

“He watched videos, practiced on his own time, he’s absolutely voracious, Bastien—Bastien?” Xiuying noticed his pensive expression. “What’s wrong?”

Bastien had seen it for himself, of course he had. He didn’t know what event had spurred Alexander’s drive but it had a profound effect. It was as though a switch had turned on inside his brain. He caught his son practicing techniques and forms during his own time, watching videos, consuming digital and physical books, anything he could get his hands to learn more.

To have more.

Alexander was developing at a pace that not even his father could keep up with.

He was extraordinary.

Xiuying nudged him. “What are you thinking about, Bastien—?“

“…Our son is special, Xiuying,” he told her, his tone graven. “I’ve seen the genius in his eyes now. You can only find that glint two or three times in your life. The sort of genius—the sort of madness—that you admired not because of what it did but what it can do. Once you start thinking about it, these men are different from the others—geniuses, I mean. You’ll realize that they have no limit, that they are unstoppable forces of nature and you begin to fear what happens when they have the right tools.

“I’ve met a man who had that hunger once, decades ago when I was beginning my career. He was the talk of the entire city—the hotshot, the casanova, they gave him every nickname under the sun and little of it was unearned. He had an intuitive understanding of combat that was unmatched, unreplicable. Everything just…” Bastien snapped his fingers. “...came easy to him.

“Championships, belts and trophies, interviews and podcasts and talk shows—within a few years, he had everything. Money, mansions, cars, he had the dream. But wealth and fame couldn’t satiate his hunger. Not one single bit. So he decided to break through the ceiling and traded a boxing ring for a sword, picked up by Legends.

“I remember the news when it happened. Everybody was excited about what this man would do for America, for the whole world. Even Kosmos was enthusiastic.”

“...I know the story,” Xiuying said, shutting her eyes. “You told me this before.”

“Yeah, this is the part that everyone knows about. Ringwonder received the best training under Legends, but eventually they had nothing to teach him; eventually the world exhausted its wisdom and nothing could stop his cravings. You know what happened next, Xiuying.

“He cut a deal with an SS-Rank monster and received the power he’d been searching for. But he couldn’t handle it. He…” Bastien gestured at his head. “...went batshit insane, and was designated as an Apocalyptic. It took over one hundred Slayers to kill him: HSOC and domestic high-rankers alike.”

Xiuying clenched at her pant-legs, crumpling the fabric. “Is this why you refuse to let anyone else teach Alexander? Because you’re so afraid that he’ll turn into this demon that you described? I know him, Bastien—”

“And I recognize his genius,” he fought. “Any other instructor will see it too. Do you know what they’ll say? ‘Bastien, your son is a prodigy!’; ‘Bastien, you need to take him to a System doctor!’; ‘Bastien, I know someone in Legends!’.

“To hell with that! This is my son! I won’t let them drown Alexander in praise and promises! I am his father—it’s my responsibility to teach him how to be a man! He has to cherish his wife, bless the world for his meals and cry when we leave him one day. His children must smile when they see their father, and the world has to grieve when he reunites with us.

“We have to love him so he can love the world. Once he fights for it, there’ll be no one who can stop him.”

~~~

[Divine Magic Circle - Righteous Indignation]

“Haha, I found some rats!” cheered the mage, his voice distant throughout the background chaos of war.

The smoke gradually dissipated and revealed the back area of the restaurant, the building that housed Rogue-7, the enemy target that Blackviper had reservations about. Her skill, [Night Assassin’s Vision] was distorted in this area due to magical interference and thus couldn’t obtain quality intel.

From the windows, spotlights were turned on, giving much-needed light.

And there was the interference, introducing himself with a spectacular display of divine might while looking all the unspectacular for it. Alexander imagined someone scarier, more intimidating. Few inches taller, his body having more meat, robes that actually fit, and a smaller staff—and sharper features too. The mage’s face was skinny and bony like rectangle, and tiny, squinting eyes made unflattering with ugly-framed glasses.

But this man wasn’t a Pseudo, that much was clear. He possessed magic that no Pseudo could feasibly have.

Regardless of how he looked, he was a Slayer that was well out of their league.

“Ugh…” Alexander stumbled to one knee, blinking and wincing, hissing.

Nine other Pseudo-Slayers accompanied the mage, dressed in dark leather armor and scratched-up metal plates and heavy coats, equipped with weapons they shouldn’t have like broadswords and war-hammers and firearms like pistols to rifles and shotguns. Their eyes were empty and distant, but a permanent scowl was scarred into their expressions that couldn’t be wiped off.

The only oddity was the mage himself, who was smiling but his eyes, too, were strangely distant despite his elation at the “rats” he had caught.

Alexander glanced behind him to his team. They were barely able to avoid [Righteous Indignation]—well, not really. Pretty much all of them got hit at the edges. Everyone. They were sprawled across the asphalt hurt and bleeding. Kirk had blood gushing down his skull, putting a tourniquet over Locklin’s severed right leg; Trevino was wailing, holding his broken, smashed up arm with Babin trying to apply aid; and Leona had Kriska, whose pink teeth were clenched as he laid on the ground.

Leona herself was hurt, badly. The blast broke through the [Red Barrier Brooch], leaving her left arm broken but she was trying to help.

Alexander’s own [Brooch] was compromised too, if not outright shattered. He held onto his dislocated right arm and put it back into place. The sharp pain almost caused him to wail but he bit the inside of his mouth, and uttered a quiet groan. Other than that, he was okay. Relatively.

“...Alexander Shen, correct?” asked the mage, cradling his staff. A six-pointed star ornamented the head. “I’ve heard about you. The TL of Slayer Team Alba. How silly is that! It’s downright childish to play pretend hero. I’m surprised you even lasted this long in my world.”

He gritted his teeth and checked the Slayer’s profile.

[You are unable to view the profile due to the Slayer’s profile settings.]

“Fuck…”

“Acumen,” said the mage, sensing what Alexander had done. “I am Acumen, C-Rank Slayer.”

“I—”

“There’s no need to introduce yourself. I already know who you are, and I barely care enough to acknowledge it. It’s absolutely appalling that Seraph would waste her time with you. I had imagined her to be wise. Intelligent, but I see that it’s all a farce.” Acumen sighed, staring up at the false night. “Here I used to look up to her. This entire world is a farce, really. Just one disappointment after the next.”

“Alex…” muttered Leona behind him, but her voice was quiet. So quiet like a squeaking mouse. She said something more. Reinforcements? Calling for help? No, help wouldn’t arrive soon enough, and a C-Rank meant they’d be killed before they could say the word.

Death was waiting for them. A cold, callous, unceremonious death, like so many before them, like so many they had witnessed before.

There was an odd sensation building inside Alexander’s core, a sensation that was born in the Hell that was Hangzhou. The flames grew, fanned as though buried deep in a forge. He hadn’t felt this desperate in a long, long time.

Alexander gritted his teeth and pushed the feeling down—down where he had banished it before alongside the rest of his grief during that time—and shambled onto his feet. Everything hurt and the rogues were blurry.

Acumen glanced over at him, sighing. “The hero’s last stand. Amazing, how inspiring. Consider yourself fortunate that I’m even giving you this much attention; it’s Carn who wants to see you dead personally so I obeyed.”

“Haha… So it really is him.” No matter how much Alexander struggled against himself, hearing that man’s name broke something in his spirit. Like the cracking of a dam, there was nothing that could stop him from seeing these rogues as the enemy—the Apocalyptics—as corpses.

“Mhm. He wants to see you and the Baptists dead. He wanted you dead since Scorcher, for the same reasons as I do. Specifically asked us to personally greet you. Lord, Slayer Team Alba, this ramshackle, is an insult—”

“That motherfucker…” hissed Alexander, clutching his frantic heart. It drummed in his ears and he kept hitting his skull over and over, trying to get rid of the sound but it louder and louder until all was muted.

Acumen raised an eyebrow. “Yes, we know—”

“You…!” He took a pained step towards the Apocalyptics—no, Carn’s Apocalyptics—pointing a clawed finger at the group. “You worked with the FUCKING COMETS! Twenty-thousand dead! More than that! Fucking dead!”

The haughty mage narrowed his pretentious gaze, briefly surveying the reactions among his crew and found them stoic, angry even.

“So?” said Acumen without a hint of humanity.

“Haha—! Fuck it!” Alexander threw his hands up. He reached into his [Inventory] and retrieved a [Relentless Serum], a syringe containing a vibrant, potent gray liquid. He injected the serum into his arm so hard that it hurt, but the pain reminded him that he was alive. Alive, but not well.

That, of course, had to change. Only he could guarantee his own survival.

[Your stamina has increased for three minutes!]

[Mana is flooding your system!]

A euphoric rush like morphine coursed through him, turning the pain into pleasure. His exhaustion melted into his muscles, and he felt like he could take on the world. The heat inside him had grown to such a level that he was boiling alive, and he had to release it! Nothing mattered other than the battlefield ahead of him.

And so the world disappeared. His vision sharpened, then narrowed.

Ten Apocalyptics. Nine Pseudo-Slayers. One C-Rank Slayer.

A simple endeavor.

His silver eyes widened into a crazed, manic stare, and a creaking laugh left him, finished with a smile that was stained bloodily. “I'll beat you dead,” he promised.

For a moment, Acumen didn’t respond because he was so baffled at this reaction—someone as intelligent as him couldn’t have predicted this. Good, let him be confused then. High and mighty bastards reacted slower. Made stupid decisions.

Like this one, when he gestured to three of the rogues beside him. One who could barely hold his warhammer, one with a dirty, filthy broadsword, and the last one held another sword that was too large.

“Kill him,” ordered Acumen, simply, but it wouldn’t be that easy.

Upon hearing the order, they each nodded and moved unsynchronized and sloppy like a mess of dancers, shambling forward with their weapons low but their heads high. They carried themselves like warriors who thought themselves strong. Oh, how wrong they were.

“C’mere, pretty boy!” cried the frontmost rogue, the skinny asshole with the hammer. He’d be the first.

[Skill Activation: 100% Mana Impact Step]

In a single, smooth bound, Alexander crossed the distance between him and the hammerman, fast and vicious like a launching viper. His shin crunched into the rogue’s head, accelerated and further empowered by [Mana Impact], and violently snapped the man’s neck to the side.

He stumbled and staggered before collapsing onto one knee, dropping his hammer. An uppercut smashed into his chin, and he was assaulted by a series of hard-hitting punches that broke blood vessels, bruised him purple, and soon enough the man fell completely, the back of his head smacking the asphalt, his face twice its original size.

Alexander picked up the fallen warhammer, raised it above his head and popped the rogue’s head like a watermelon. Red spewed out onto the asphalt, bits of skull and brain rolling like marbles.

The rest of the Apocalyptics were dead silent, watching wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

The other two rogues were paralyzed, but Acumen howled at them to move. At first their steps stuttered, then they broke into a full sprint, primally screaming. They knew they had to give their all to kill him, now, but even then that wouldn’t be enough.

Alexander hurled the warhammer. It spun around and around through the air, knocking the legs out of the first swordsman, hitting the hard asphalt face-first. The second swordsman hopped over, surprisingly quick and agile, and swung down rightly.

But the blade was caught mid-swing with a single hand—[Iron Knuckles] plus [Ironcloth Gauntlets] prevented his hands from being cut open. The rogue gasped, pulling and struggling but it was no use. He was weak, and Alexander was stronger.

The man howled as the first [Impact] broke his nose, cried when the second cracked a few teeth out of his bloody lips, and wailed at the third but the third never came. Instead Alexander swung him around.

A shocked, horrified scream came as a sword pierced through his abdomen and out the other end, the sword-tip almost scratching Alexander. It came from behind, where his friend was, kneeling, realizing his terrible, terrible mistake.

Using this moment of shock, Alexander gripped the exposed blade tightly with two hands and raised his leg.

[Skill Activation: 50% Mana Impact Step]

With one powerful kick, he simultaneously pushed the impaled rogue back and pulled the blade out like King Arthur, snatching the sword through his body blade-out, the hilt obliterating the entrails as it tore free, scattering bits of intestines and guts.

The last rogue instinctively caught his fallen ally who now had a hole in his stomach. He was frozen, paralyzed like a deer in headlights, watching as his own blade sauntered down and split his skull in half, stuck there.

Alexander let go, allowing the rogues to fall limp. Dead.

“Seven…” he muttered.

“K-Kill him…” Acumen stuttered, pointing shakily. “Kill him—!”

[50% Mana Impact Step]

With groups as big as these, you had to execute the most violence in the shortest amount of time, capitalizing on these tiny, individual moments of shock and awe.

And the next sorry bastard was a short man with a spear almost as long as he was, pale in the face and empty-eyed. It took three whole [Steps] to reach him, gave him time to raise his spear. But his grip was weak and faltering, and the weapon itself was shoddy. You could only sell it through the System because no one would want it.

[100% Mana Impact Strike]

Hardwood splinters soared as the shaft was split in two by a powerful palm strike. It continued, cracked into the rogue’s chest, knocking his breath out and left him gasping. One end—the one with the sharp, glistening spearhead—was snatched from the air and plunged deep into his stomach.

Alexander twisted and turned, heard a guttural groan, and decided to lift the man off his feet and charge forward.

Rat-a-tat-tat! a middle-aged woman fired her carbine, some bullets snapping into the rogue’s back (many missed). He jerked and jittered, each one placing him closer to Death’s door. Then he arrived, outliving his usefulness.

So he was thrown to the side, the broken spear yanked out of him.

[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]

The carbine clattered onto the ground, and the woman wrapped her hands around her neck. A confused look came over her, feeling the splintered spear deep inside. Desperately she grabbed and plucked at the spear in a fit of delirium.

Alexander held it. In one motion, her throat was torn open, blood spurting out like artwork.

Another rogue shrieked as the spear-piece flew at him, ducked out of the way precariously before a soft boom echoed. He raised his shotgun but by then it was too late. Alexander had already arrived. The shotgun was knocked to the side, went off with a deafening bang, and was taken.

The man couldn’t scream before a blast launched him off his feet and laid there on the ground, his chest torn open as though a ravenous animal got to him.

An axe swiped at Alexander, wide and sloppy. He dodged the first careless swing and the second, blocked the third using the shotgun itself. His leg smashed into the axeman’s groin and he howled.

The shotgun twirled around and the butt smashed into the Apocalyptic’s head, dropped him. The barrel pressed against his skull, and like the first man, his brains stained the ground.

Acumen watched Alexander Shen, chills running across his body. How long had it been? How long had it been since he crazily decided to challenge all ten of them alone? It couldn’t be more than a minute! It didn't make sense! In no logical world would this be possible!

Why…? Acumen thought to himself, gritting his teeth, his knuckles white from gripping his staff. Why am I frozen facing this insignificant Pseudo?! What is this fear?! He recalled his youth where he had applied to join the Big Four with hope and promise (what a joke that'd been). He couldn't forget.

He couldn't forget the astounding amount of pressure that the high-rankers belonging to those guilds produced.

Bloodlust, battle presence, aura, these were names for the same concept: power. The strongest Slayers could make most bow down and kiss their feet with nothing more than a glance.

So why was he sensing the embers of the same pressure from an E-Rank Pseudo? No, who was this Pseudo in possession of it?

“...Ha.” Alexander Shen smiled as the last of the remaining rogues laid dead on the ground, his foot pressing against her head which was cracked into a curb. A dagger impaled his left hand but he didn’t seem to mind. Slowly, he slid the dagger out, letting blood pour through and soak his fingers.

Acumen gulped as haunting silver eyes spotted him. “You—!” An E-Rank shouldn’t beat a C-Rank. They shouldn’t. A single C-Rank could defeat multiple D-Ranks by themselves. “You won’t win—!”

[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]

Acumen ducked as the dagger flashed by his head, shrieking. There was a soft boom and a steel chair was kicked towards him. Quickly, he casted a mediocre bolt that blasted the chair to the side, revealing Alexander on the other side, using that shameful movement skill again!

[Skill Activation: Conjure - Light]

From the six-pointed star staff, bolts of solidified light manifested into existence and hunted Alexander.

The first bolt rushed over his head, the second he tried to sidestep but it wasn’t far enough—it gashed him in the hip. Yet despite that he was relentless, fueled by adrenaline and rage, continuing his suicidal charge. Acumen clenched his teeth, angered by this display of faux-heroism and screamed nonsensically, ushering the third bolt.

[Skill Activation: 10% Mana Impact Step]

But Alexander swiftly darted to the side. And he did the same for the next bolt and the bolt after that; other than the first couple conjurations, Acumen couldn’t hit him. Somehow, he was dodging his attacks. That shouldn’t be possible. His Magick was high enough where an E-Rank couldn’t treat this as a casual affair.

Alexander Shen shouldn’t be faster than Acumen.

And that was correct. Alexander was not faster than Acumen from the statistical differences between an E-Rank and a C-Rank; however, he learned from his spar with the Righteous Jin Tiehan, when the Martial had effortlessly dodged his gunshots. There was a trick to it: instead of moving faster than the bullet, you anticipate the discharges' timing and move then.

In other words, Alexander had anticipated the timing to [Conjure - Light] in conjunction with the mechanical limitations of Acumen’s staff. He wasn’t moving faster than the conjurations, he was moving before them, consecutively using [Mana Impact Step] to facilitate his movements.

And Acumen didn't realize any of this.

[You have developed a derivative of [Mana Impact Step]!]

[[Incomplete Mana Impact Sprint] has been created! Check your profile for more information!]

Alexander reached him. If he knew one thing about mages, then it’d be this: they weren’t typically close combat fighters. Acumen stubbornly tried to conjure another [Light] point-blank but it took too long.

[25% Mana Impact Step]

His leg shot up and knocked the staff into the air, twirling and spinning far away where neither could get it.

Acumen screamed childishly and tried punching Alexander. He was inherently faster due to his superior Agility, yes, but not so fast that it was hopeless. Like before, Alexander read his attacks and countered before the punch was made.

[100% Mana Impact Strike]

Square in the face, stumbling back, nose bleeding. Unlike the other rogues, Acumen had a high Constitution so it’d take more than a single punch to take him down. Alexander took a deep breath then. His mind was eerily clear and devoid of any extraneous thoughts. He felt nothing but a desire to survive.

[Skill Activation]

He recalled the training he done with [Mana Impact] and clenched his fists.

[Mana Impact Strike]

[Inexhaustible Ironfist Flurry]

Small explosions snapped throughout the lot, sounding like gunshots. Leona and the Duskheads watched as Alexander brought Acumen to the ground after God-knows-how-many-punches, but that wasn’t enough. He mounted him and continued punching and punching and punching and punching and punching! until the effects of the [Relentless Serum] waned and his stamina was depleted and his mana was exhausted.

Alexander collapsed next to the beaten Acumen, and nobody knew if that man was still alive.

The world slowly entered Alexander’s focus again, and he heard distant cries for his name. Familiar voices. There was no sounds of the ambush anymore. Surely, the rest of the constructs and the enemy forces were neutralized now.

A drone buzzed above the rooftops. It was a drone belonging to Yatsar, which had traveled all the way from Grendel Arsenal once word got out that the convoy was ambushed by Carn’s Apocalyptics.

There, watching the feed was a roundtable of commanding officers belonging to Task Force Duskhead, and Slayers, like Gul and the Righteous Jin Tiehan, including Seraph who had joined via call.

“...Seraph,” said Colonel Gillespie, the commanding general of the Task Force, “what exactly did you sponsor?”

She didn’t answer.

Jin Tiehan, however, stared at the screen with an exhilarated thrill in his eyes. [So there it is, Shen Jianyu. Your mind is already in the heavens.]

~

[You have developed a new derivative of [Inexhaustible Multi-Arm Flurry]!]

[Multiple skills have been combined!]

[You have developed [Chronicles of the Conqueror]! Check your profile for more information!]

[Ordo has recognized your efforts. The titles [Demon of High Home] and [Survivor of Hangzhou] have combined and developed into [Silver-Eyed Demon]!]

[You have a terrifying presence! Your [Taunt] has developed into [Demonic Intimidation]!]

~

[Would you like to look at your profile?]

[SLAYER PROFILE PAGE] - ALEXANDER SHEN

STATISTICS SLAYER RANK: E6 (E10)

POWER: E9 (+5)

CONSTITUTION: E10 (+3)

AGILITY: E6 (+3)

MAGICK: E2 (+3)

TITLE SILVER-EYED DEMON

Throughout the events of the Ordo Disaster, you have been recognized by many as an overwhelming force in combat. This is the reputation you have nurtured for yourself, and the entire city will hear of you, and then the world.

While this title is active, increase your Power by 2 levels.

During combat, increase all stats by 2 levels further.

SKILLS: 5/5 CHRONICLES OF THE CONQUEROR

As long as you stand and combat the roaring tides, there is no enemy undefeatable.

TECHNIQUES DERIVATIVES

INEXHAUSTIBLE MULTI-ARM FLURRY

You are relentless no matter the weapon you use! Increase your attacking speed by +5 in Agility! You can use this skill as long as you have the stamina to execute it.

INEXHAUSTIBLE IRONFIST FLURRY

Increase your punching speed by +5 in Agility

INEXHAUSTIBLE STEELWIND FLURRY

Increase your swinging speed by +5 in Agility

IRON KNUCKLES

You conditioned your knuckles similarly to a good steel in a hot forge. Your knuckles are just as hard as iron.

NONE AVAILABLE MANA IMPACT

A technique taught to you by the Perfected Cultivator, the Righteous Jin Tiehan. By condensing mana into your body and releasing the load upon impact, you produce an explosive effect.

These are the minimum values to produce a notable effect.

15% Mana Density: +1 Stat

50% Mana Density: +2 Stat

100% Mana Density: +3 Stat

MANA IMPACT STRIKE

Concentrate mana into your fists to enhance the Power of your attacks.

MANA IMPACT STEP

Condense mana into your legs to provide a temporary increase in attacking Power or a sudden explosive boost in movement.

BETTER TOGETHER

Humanity was never meant to walk alone—that is what you believe. Together, the accumulation of all actions will reach the heavens. If you are in a party, increase all stats of your party members, including yourself, by 1.

If your party members are in the middle (Rank C to B) or high echelon (A to S) or greater, they will receive a fraction of the enhancement.

DEMONIC INTIMIDATION

In the battlefield, some may mistake you as a demon. Whenever you are engaged in combat, all enemies with a lower Power will feel intimidated by your presence, making it possible for some to flee.

This skill is toggleable.

INCOMPLETE INEXHAUSTIBLE MANA IMPACT FLURRY

By combining the fundamentals of Inexhaustible Ironfist Flurry and Mana Impact Strike, you create a devastating flurry of Power-enhanced explosive punches, lasting as long as your stamina does.

Due to your inexperience with this skill, catastrophic failure is possible.

INCOMPLETE MANA IMPACT SPRINT

By bringing Mana Impact Step to its fullest limit, using the skill consecutively, you are able to break out into an Agility-enhanced sprint.

Due to your inexperience with this skill, catastrophic failure is possible.

NO AVAILABLE HONORS

~

[QUEST NOTIFICATION - UPDATE]

DISTORTION INVESTIGATION - DAWNS ONCE MORE

Seraph has assigned you the task of investigating a series of anomalous distortions in Dawns once again, this time collaborating with members of Martial Guild, including the Vice Guild Master, the Righteous Jin Tiehan.

A coordinated bombing attack ruptured the permanent night, caused by the same anomalous distortions you have discussed with Alma, the Journey of Scholars. Discover the Sungrazer behind this attack and slay them rightfully.

As it turns out, the collaborators of this scheme is not a monster but the very own people of Ordo. Or if you could call them that. They are now Apocalyptics according to the doctrine of the Global Guards. As such, they are to be shown no mercy.

The culprit turns out to be an old acquaintance: Carn, Predator of Predators. There is only one thing left to do then.