The internal surveillance networks and intelligence departments of humanity’s premier organizations flagged the localized surge in Mountcrest City almost simultaneously.
Automated systems triggered high-priority flags based on a sudden convergence of keywords: Beast Tamer, 10-second clearance of Nightmare-Hard first wave, and suspected Mythic-tier summon.
When the high-level scouts clicked open the replay file and witnessed the mind-blowing, instantaneous annihilation of the elite monster pool, even these battle-hardened executives couldn’t maintain their composure.
Inside a penthouse office atop an Imperial Capital skyscraper, a middle-aged man draped in a custom-tailored suit radiated a powerful aura.
He abruptly stood up from his heavy leather chair, growling directly into his communicator, “Move immediately!
I need a complete background dossier on this boy, Leon!
Have it resting on my desk within three minutes!” Deep within a classically designed campus in Shanghai, an elderly, white-haired academic stared intently at his terminal.
“Hurry!
Establish a secure line to our Mountcrest City satellite office!
At all costs, make contact with this student before the other factions get to him!
Our specialized division at Modu University needs a genius of this caliber!” The administrative departments of top-tier mercenary guilds, the human resource divisions of multi-billion dollar conglomerates, and the special recruitment offices of the military high command were all thrown into a state of sudden, frantic activity.
High-level commands were rapidly funneled down, and elite operational teams were urgently mobilized to deploy directly to Mountcrest City.
They shared a singular, absolute objective: sign this rookie Beast Tamer named Leon before anyone else could offer a contract.
Simultaneously, the premium VIP seating notifications inside Leon’s livestream channel began to illuminate the interface in a rapid cascade, flashing with dazzling digital halos: [Dijing University (Official Institution Account) has entered the channel.] [XunTeng Conglomerate (Verified Enterprise Account) has entered the channel.] [The Vanguard Mercenary Guild (Verified Corporate Account) has entered the channel.] [Modu University (Official Institution Account) has entered the channel.] [The Blademaster Syndicate (Verified Guild Account) has entered the channel.] [Hongye Corporation (Verified Enterprise Account) has entered the channel.] Every single entity joining the room represented a massive, structural pillar within human territory.
Their sudden collective appearance drove the ambient atmosphere of the broadcast toward a wild climax.
The comment feed lost all semblance of restraint, with millions of ordinary viewers exploding with vicarious excitement, fully aware they were witnessing the historical birth of a legend.
At the epicenter of the digital maelstrom, Leon stood quietly within the Black Rock Wasteland.
He merely glanced at the active viewer counter in the upper right corner of his screen, which had already smashed past eighty million and was continuing its near-vertical climb.
“Almost there,” Leon muttered.
Once this upcoming wave of monsters was neutralized, his concurrent traffic metrics would easily shatter the one hundred million milestone.
Right at that exact second— [System Notification: The preparatory countdown has concluded.] [System Notification: Phase 2 of the Initiation Trial has commenced.] [Objective: Survive the onslaught of the Werewolf Legion for fifteen minutes.] The moment the synthetic notification faded, a massive wall of dust rose violently along the horizon of the dead wasteland, completely blotting out the leaden gray sky.
Awooo!
The sharp, drawn-out howls of thousands of wolves merged into a singular, terrifying shockwave of sound, expanding in volume as it rolled across the plains.
Through the dense screen of gray dust, the silhouettes of a massive mechanized army rapidly solidified.
It was an elite vanguard of thousands of Werewolf Warriors mounted atop colossal dire wolves.
The riders wore thick, heavily reinforced leather armor, brandishing heavy scimitars and jagged polearms.
The eyes of their mounts burned with a bloodthirsty green luminescence, their jaws snapping as they exhaled plumes of frothy white condensation.
The entire legion moved with the coordinated momentum of a steel torrent, radiating a heavy, crushing intent as they charged directly toward the rocky platform where Leon stood.
The collective thunder of their approach caused the bedrock to vibrate violently.
Monster: Werewolf Cavalry (Elite)Level: Level 8HP: 20,000Strength: 1,500Defense: 1,000Spirit: 500Agility: 1,500Skills: Group Charge, Carnivore BiteCombat Power: 12,000 Even more unsettling for the audience was the massive silhouette dominating the absolute front of the formation.
The leader stood over half a head taller than the standard cavalrymen, clad in finely crafted, heavy steel general’s plate.
He brandished a terrifying, long-handled warhammer roughly the size of an apartment door, mounted atop a legendary dire wolf that dwarfed its pack mates, its exposed fangs dripping with feral saliva.
Monster: Werewolf General (Boss)Level: Level 12HP: 35,000Strength: 2,000Defense: 2,000Spirit: 1,500Agility: 3,000Skills: Overwhelm Strike, Vanguard Charge, Blood FrenzyCombat Power: 20,000 With a verified combat power metric of twenty thousand, this entity sat firmly at the operational baseline of an elite Tier 2 professional.
When combined with the compounding momentum of a group charge executed by thousands of elite cavalrymen whose individual ratings exceeded ten thousand, the destructive potential of this wave completely eclipsed the cumbersome, slow-moving Black Rock Giants from the first round.
The livestream chat box immediately drowned in a wave of panicked commentary.
Holy crap!
Over twelve thousand combat power per rider!
That’s already tracking the baseline of a Tier 1 graduate combatant!And there are thousands of them!
When a mounted formation like that reaches maximum velocity, who on earth can physically stand in front of them?
Even if that skeleton swordsman is an absolute freak, it can’t possibly survive a head-on collision with a localized army charge, right?The system objective is explicitly to survive for fifteen minutes.
I think the Poetry-Reciting Blademaster should prioritize his agility metrics, kiting the margins to drag out the timer.Annihilating this pool is mathematically impossible.
The physics behind an army charge can’t be nullified by a lone melee summon!Look at their speed!
They’re closing the distance too fast!
On the screen, the Werewolf General raised his massive warhammer high into the air, letting out a deafening, blood-curdling roar that echoed across the plains.
“For the pack!
Kill!” Roar!
Thousands of cavalrymen bared their teeth, answering his battle cry in a unified roar that shook the heavy clouds.
The legion accelerated into their final sprint, transforming into a dark torrent of living steel that burst through the terrain, heading straight for Leon’s position.
The trailing dust cloud rose like a wall, their physical killing intent so heavy it suffocated the viewers watching through their screens.
Yet, Leon merely stood in the center of his stone platform, looking down at the oncoming tide of death with an expression of complete indifference.
He didn’t even bother to glance back at Zoro.
Instead, he calmly navigated his broadcaster panel, manually banning several users who were trying to capitalize on the high traffic to advertise sketchy medical treatments in the chat log.
By this point, his concurrent viewer metric had ticked up to eighty-five million.
He had successfully dethroned the third-ranked fox-girl streamer, forcing her channel down into fourth place on the global charts.
Leon nodded to himself, satisfied with the data.
Once this wave was dealt with, the milestone would be secure.
Then, it would finally be time for his corporate counter-attack.
Thinking about the expressions the Prodigy platform executives would make once he migrated his traffic, Leon’s lips curved into a cold smirk.
He issued a silent mental command to Zoro.
“Clear the field.” Zoro, who had been standing perfectly motionless like a dark green statue beside him, suddenly unleashed an unprecedented, volcanic burst of crimson soul fire from his empty eye sockets.
Crackle!
Without a single microsecond of warning, a violent, tempestuous storm of red-black lightning violently erupted from every bone in Zoro’s framework.
It wasn’t an active physical attack, but an absolute, unadulterated spiritual pressure manifesting from the depths of a primordial soul—a force that looked down upon all living existence with supreme contempt.
An indescribable, soul-chilling aura of pure terror rippled outward from Zoro like an invisible, catastrophic tsunami.
Immediately following the lightning, a dense, near-tangible wave of dark green Conqueror’s Haki expanded outward in a visible ring, warping and distorting the very composition of the atmosphere wherever it passed.
Conqueror’s Haki—maximized output!
Thump!
Slide!
Crash!
A horrifyingly bizarre sequence unfolded across the terrain.
The thousands of Werewolf Cavalrymen charging forward with unstoppable momentum were struck head-on by an invisible, cosmic hammer the exact millisecond they crossed the perimeter of the green spiritual shockwave.
The riders leading the front lines instantly went limp, their eyes rolling back into their heads as their consciousness evaporated.
They tumbled off their mounts, crashing heavily into the dirt.
Their giant dire wolves whimpered, their legs buckling instantly as they slid face-first into the hard bedrock, rolling over into dead faints.
Then came the second rank.
Then the third.
Like rows of harvested wheat slicing down before the blade of a reaper, thousands of elite riders and their fearsome mounts lost consciousness in perfect, simultaneous succession.
The entire charging formation collapsed into a chaotic, sprawling mass of unconscious bodies within a fraction of a second.
Only the Werewolf General, charging at the absolute vanguard and possessing the raw stats of a Level 12 Boss, managed to survive the spiritual onslaught.
He relied on his elite Tier 2 parameters and a desperate, frantic assertion of will to retain his consciousness under the weight of the Conqueror’s Haki.
But the massive dire wolf beneath his saddle had already fainted, its body collapsing heavily to the ground.
The general fell from his mount, his eyes completely bloodshot and his massive frame trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.
His army was gone.
His charge was broken.
His mind was entirely gripped by an absolute, primordial fear of the Overlord.
The vast wasteland, which had been deafeningly loud a second ago, fell into a vacuum of eerie, dead silence, broken only by the whistling of the wind.
Thousands of elite cavalrymen lay scattered across the dirt like discarded dolls.
The Werewolf General stood entirely alone in front of the platform, a solitary, trembling figure frozen in fear and impotent rage.
Inside the livestream broadcast room, the chat feed went entirely dead.
Three or four long seconds passed in absolute silence before the comment section violently erupted like an active volcano, unleashing a wave of digital hysteria that completely shattered all prior platform records.