[Group Mission: Saving Private W]
[Member Status: Critical]
[Acceptance Count: 0/3]
[Reward: 300 Group Points]
Was W ambushed during a mission?
[Wiš’adel: Who asked you to issue a mission?
I can handle it alone.
Tsk, why can’t I accept the mission myself?]
[Handsome Big Liar: W, it’s better not to be headstrong.
I’m still saving people in the Hollow, but I’ll come to reinforce you immediately.]
Frez tapped the holographic interface, deciding to see exactly what kind of trouble the explosive-loving mercenary had managed to step into.
[Dump Truck Hater: Can our powers be used over there?]
[Quantum Beheading Barbarian: Yes, they can.]
The chat group system possessed a fundamental override that allowed members to use their native abilities across different universes.
It ensured no one would instantly die just because a specific type of mana, energy, or atmospheric condition didn’t exist in the target world., it strictly enforced a friendly-fire safety protocol.
Within the chaotic blast radius of any group member’s attack, allies were entirely immune to the damage, receiving only the beneficial buffs.
To top it off, a passive shielding effect—functionally identical to the Path of Trailblaze—wrapped around the members, protecting their bodies from being corrupted or mutated by foreign ambient energies.
Frez, Yixuan, and Seele all locked in their acceptance of the mission.
Furina, lacking any direct combat prowess of her own, rapidly sent over a stockpile of high-quality food through the system’s inventory, hoping the emergency rations would provide some measure of support.
Frez didn’t hesitate.
He pressed the teleport button.
His vision violently blurred, the colors of his room stretching into a tunnel of blinding white light.
When the world snapped back into focus, the sharp scent of ozone, burnt soil, and fresh blood assaulted his senses.
Kneeling in the dirt a few paces ahead was a silver-haired Sarkaz girl.
W was covered in a patchwork of bleeding gashes and soot.
A few strands of striking red highlights were matted against her cheek, and the distinct, layered red horns on her head were chipped from shrapnel.
Her signature dark cloak was riddled with ragged holes, exposing the heavily damaged tactical vest underneath.
She was breathing hard, her chest heaving as she clutched her side.
It was obvious she had been dragged through a meat grinder of a battle.
Deafening explosions of Originium Arts shattered the air nearby, kicking up plumes of scorched earth.
W spat a mouthful of dust and glared up at him.
“Hey, don’t just stand there!
We got ambushed.
The other side is backed by those damn Leithanians; their weapons are way too sophisticated for a standard hit.”
“Leithanien?” Frez glanced at the desolate, rocky terrain.
“Where exactly is this?”
“The barren wilderness between Siracusa and Kazdel.” She gritted her teeth, loading a fresh round into her grenade launcher.
“Our target is a Caprini.”
The enemy forces cresting the ridge clearly possessed superior funding.
Heavily armored casters stood in the backlines, their staves glowing with volatile energy as they rained continuous, long-range Arts bombardment down on the valley.
Flanking them were lines of disciplined crossbowmen, laying down a suppressing volley that chewed the rocks to dust.
W ducked behind a shattered boulder, pulling her weapon tight against her chest.
She looked back and saw Frez still standing completely upright in the open, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets.
“Are you insane?!” she screamed, her voice cracking with sheer disbelief.
“Sarkaz profanity, are you just standing there to be a live target?!”
A heavy, armor-piercing crossbow bolt shrieked through the air, aimed perfectly at the center of Frez’s forehead.
W’s eyes widened.
Then, in a display that completely shattered her understanding of physics, the lethal projectile stopped dead in mid-air. Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
It hovered exactly one centimeter away from Frez’s skin, spinning uselessly against an invisible, impenetrable barrier.
“This is…?” W trailed off, her jaw slightly slack.
“You can understand it as my Originium Arts,” Frez replied, his tone perfectly even.
“I don’t get hurt that easily.”
He briefly swept his gaze over the deep lacerations on W’s arms and legs, feeling a fleeting sense of regret.
Satoru Gojo’s template was absolute perfection in combat, but it lacked the specific utility needed here.
In the Jujutsu world, the only individuals capable of outputting Reverse Cursed Technique to heal others were Ryomen Sukuna, Yuta Okkotsu, and Shoko Ieiri.
Even with the Six Eyes, Frez could only cycle positive energy to regenerate his own body, not project it outward to mend W’s wounds.
He casually raised a hand, plucking the hovering crossbow bolt from the air.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he threw it right back.
The heavy bolt tore through the air, the sheer kinetic force of his throw creating a high-pitched, whistling hiss.
It crossed the battlefield in a fraction of a second, punching clean through the trunk of a withered tree and burying itself deep into the chest of the Rusthammer mercenary hiding behind it.
The impact pinned the man to a large rock, half the metal shaft buried deep within the stone.
“How many people do you have left on your side?” Frez asked, scanning the ridge.
“Hoederer, Entelechia, and I are covering the rear.
Everyone else has already evacuated.” W spoke rapidly, her usual mocking tone replaced by grim efficiency.
“I saw the lines collapsing, so I called you over.”
Frez tilted his head, his Six Eyes effortlessly processing the ambient energy signatures across the entire valley.
“A bit over a hundred hostiles left.
Not bad.”
Before W could respond, the air rippled with quantum distortion.
A new figure materialized, wielding a massive, menacing scythe.
The energetic, dark-blue-haired girl landed lightly on her feet, her eyes scanning the chaos.
“W!
I got delayed on the way, but I’m here to save you!”
Without missing a beat, the girl spun her scythe, locking onto the nearest unfamiliar energy signature—which happened to be Frez.
She lunged, the heavy blade sweeping directly toward his neck.
“Ally!” Frez shouted, not moving an inch.
The scythe halted instantly, the razor-sharp edge hovering just inches from his collar.
“Ally?” Seele blinked, her aggressive stance faltering.
“I’m Frez.”
“Oh!
Oh, sorry about that.
I’m Seele.” She rubbed the back of her head, laughing off the near-decapitation with an awkward, bright smile.
Frez gently pushed the shaft of the scythe away from his face and pointed toward the ridge.
“The enemies are over there.
Let’s go.”
“Alright!”
Seele instantly shook off the awkwardness.
Her demeanor shifted, her eyes sharpening into the gaze of a seasoned predator.
Her body dissolved into a flurry of quantum energy, phasing out of reality.
“Disappear among the sea of butterflies!
Illusions of the past!”
Her figure flickered across the battlefield, teleporting from shadow to shadow.
Seele’s raw physical stats might not have been the absolute highest in the group, but her combat mechanics were utterly flawless.
Her scythe became a blur of lethal steel.
Every time a mercenary fell, the Resurgence mechanic triggered, instantly resetting her momentum and launching her into the next target.
Frez didn’t intend to be outdone.
He stepped forward, his body blurring as he used the spatial manipulation of the Limitless.
He moved with the unstoppable, kinetic force of a runaway freight train, appearing directly amidst the enemy ranks.
Limbs shattered and bodies were sent flying into the air as he casually dismantled the ‘lucky ones’ who crossed his path.
He raised a single, fair finger.
“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”
A singular point of dazzling, absolute azure condensed at his fingertip.
The surrounding light immediately began to bend and warp in an eerie, unnatural manner.
The atmosphere itself was violently pulled inward, as if a localized black hole had just been born in the palm of his hand, threatening to swallow the very fabric of the world.
With a light tap of his finger, that concentrated point of azure shot forward, following his line of sight.
The motion was entirely nonchalant, but the terrifying gravitational anomaly it unleashed tore through the earth.
Boulders, soil, and shattered weapons were ripped from the ground, spiraling into the vortex.
The air was instantly vacuumed out of the valley, creating a deafening, high-pitched roar that ruptured eardrums.
Everyone caught in the path of the anomaly was crushed into unrecognizable shapes, disappearing into the azure light before they could even draw breath to scream.
When the light faded, a massive, perfectly smooth trench had been carved straight through the enemy formation.
The surviving mercenaries stared at the devastation, their weapons slipping from their trembling hands.
All will to fight evaporated.
They broke formation and turned to flee in absolute terror.
Suddenly, a piercing, ethereal cry rang out from the heavens, echoing so loudly it drowned out the screams, the chaotic spells, and the lingering rumble of artillery.
The massive, radiant silhouette of the Qingming Bird bloomed across the sky.
Countless paper talismans ignited into streams of golden light, connecting with the divine bird’s cry.
The glowing talismans drifted downward, forming a staircase of light in the empty air.
Descending those steps was a figure of absolute elegance.
The patterns on the hem of her apricot-yellow Taoist robe unfurled in the violent wind, the fabric rippling like dark, flowing ink.
As the Qingming Bird flapped its massive wings, thousands of golden feathers rained down, each one transforming into a suspended talisman.
A mercenary screamed an order to retreat, but it was too late.
The thousands of talismans poured down like a torrential rainstorm, striking the earth and detonating into brilliant, interlocking golden arrays.
The remaining members of the Rusthammer squad were instantly swallowed by the blinding, purifying light.
Yixuan touched down on the scorched earth.
Her silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, dancing wildly in the wind.
Her eyebrows were delicate, reminiscent of distant, misty mountains, and her slender phoenix eyes flowed with the color of molten gold.
Faint, ink-colored eyeshadow accentuated the corners of her eyes, giving her a look of deep, ancient mystery.
Her nose was high and elegant, her lips a perfect vermilion.
The natural, upward curve of her mouth carried a hint of cold, untouchable detachment.
She possessed a heart-stirring, otherworldly beauty that brought the chaotic battlefield to a standstill.
Her body proportions achieved a flawless, delicate balance between lethal strength and soft grace.
The pristine white inner garment beneath her robe clung tightly, highlighting her exquisite, generous curves.
Wrapped in the traditional Taoist robe, her posture appeared incredibly upright and full.
Every subtle shift of her weight embodied a dynamic, hypnotic beauty that forced the eye to follow her movements, tracing the lines of her figure up and down.
The large, distinct mole resting on the upper swell of her chest served as the perfect, striking finishing touch.
The wooden talisman gourd and the strings of ancient copper coins hanging at her slender waist swayed gently with her steps.
Beneath the black silk sash that bound her waist, the hem of her robe fluttered, occasionally lifting just enough to reveal the delicate, porcelain-white skin on the inside of her thighs.
Faint, golden light pulsed from the talismans beneath her feet as she walked forward, step by elegant step.
Standing a few yards away, Frez blinked.
His Six Eyes, constantly processing all visual and spatial data in his environment down to the atomic level, had already automatically calculated her exact physical measurements and fed the numbers directly into his brain.
He took a slow, deep breath.
Hiss…
[Akarin’s Note:
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