Heroes faced great opposition and won. It is all in their memories too. Of ancestors that didn’t back down and eventually excelled. Every Origin god was once a titan of law. So it is in their bloodline to walk in the footsteps of their ancestor and fight against overwhelming odds. They already have a villain to conquer. The fire in their bloodlines pushed them to conquer. Then they all blurred into motion.
Soverick reached them first. His top speed is a little higher than any other battle sage monkey in the vitality core stage. But what really stood out about him is his acceleration which is beyond compare. He could reach his top speed in mind-boggling time.
In a flash, he was upon them, a grin on his face as his spear moved horizontally for a smash. The first three people he struck were sent flying. They hadn’t seen him arrive but their divine sense had perceived him. Sadly it was too late already. It was like the attack of the titan frogs on the obstacle course. It was too fast to react to but not for these youths. They aren’t ordinary youths after all. They managed to raise their weapons in time to block but the attack was overwhelming. It crushed all resistance.
Their weapons were crushed into their chest. Their arms were broken and their mind was still in shock at his speed as they were sent flying. It was only after they hit the ground did they feel the pain of their mangled form. Their arms, chests, legs, and other body parts that Soverick’s spear touched had been crushed. By then, more were already sent flying, about to join them on the ground. Soverick was just that fast.
His spear was too heavy for a normal battle sage monkey in his stage to wield but he was twirling it about like a stick. Only his opponents knew what it really was and how it felt to be hit with it. The fight didn’t need him to show his skill. He was too fast to be dodged. He was too strong to be blocked. He outclassed them in every way for them to withstand a single attack and he made to at least maim them if not outright kill them. Some didn’t even react as lobbed off their heads.
His first horizontal smash turned into a whirling attack. He swung his spear around with wild abandon. The ones close to him exploded into blood and gore. They might be able to harness momentum, but there is a limit to how much they can manipulate. They came to him in large numbers and clustered around him but it was more to their disadvantage than an advantage. He was able to get a lot of them with a single attack.
Once he had thinned out the forerunners, space opened up around him for ranged attacks. Arrows came first. They were all fast and accurate even though he was so fast. They were just that good but they couldn’t hamper him at all with their attacks. He saw everything around him. Nothing could ambush him and he had no blind spots.
He didn’t focus on the arrows, that will be a bad move. He knew their ranged attacks are meant to limit his movements and force him into compromising positions. They were trying to make it easier for the close combat fighters to engage him. It was like mastery of seamless.
He sped up and targeted one of his opponents. An arrow came for him, he moved slightly and the arrow whistled past him. He went towards his target while that arrow struck someone behind him. He came close and was about to thrust when more arrows came. His spear moved to intercept the arrows in a whirling blur while he moved closer to his opponent. His other hand punched forward but his opponent was ready. He wielded his hammer and slammed them forward. One for Soverick’s outstretched hand and the other for his head.
Soverick’s punch fell and his body leaned with it. One foot lifted up while the other rotated in support of transforming his attack into a kick. His leg flashed forward and struck his opponent in the head. The longer reach of his leg gave him an advantage in the exchange. His opponent’s neck broke then Soverick’s spear thrust into his stomach and moved his body to block the arrows about to reach him.
Soverick used the body as a shield while he ran toward the archers. The enemies still alive realized his aim and moved to stop him. They couldn’t reach him fast enough so they began to throw weapons at him. Soverick’s makeshift shield could block arrows but it couldn’t block a spear.
Still, the attacks were useless. They were more powerful but they were less accurate. The archers were already having difficulty tracking his movements.
By the time these people hefted the weapons and threw them, he was long gone.
He demolished the archers and everyone in his way. It didn’t take 2 minutes for him to reduce their number by more than 50. Fear began to creep into their minds, just a little. They realized too late how powerful Soverick was. They were torn between grouping together or spreading out. Some grouped themselves together when facing him. They attacked and defended together. Some will strike at Soverick while some will defend against his attack. A group is troublesome to deal with, especially if they surround him and protect an archer from him.
It was just more troublesome. Their resistance was all an effort in futility. If they could throw weapons, so can he. And he can throw it farther and harder. He picked up weapons left behind by dead opponents and threw them be they spears, blades, brass knuckles, anything really. Anything can become dangerous when it is thrown with enough force to shatter skulls. Their troublesome defense became less troublesome when his hand became an artillery cannon.
He was like a wolf among sheep. He was merciless and grim in his actions. Blood and bones flew around him. Arms and legs were lopped off. Heads were smashed and chests caved in. No one could stand against him. None could hold him back for a brief moment so that they could reorganize and form a stronger resistance. He hunted them down if they were alone, he smashed them apart if they were in groups.
They finally felt fear. Soverick was soaked in blood from head to toe. His fur wasn’t golden anymore. It had various colors from the different bloodlines that he had spilled. His fur now matched his glowing multicolored eyes. Their numbers dwindled and the realization of impending death set in. Some began to beg him.
One of them. A battle sage monkey that looked like a lady but Soverick could never tell, fell to her knees and cried out. “We give up. I give up. You win. You win. Please let us go.”
She was crying. Tears fell from her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt regret. Facing an enemy you cannot touch at all was a bad idea. She felt broken. She would never forget this day. She was scarred forever. She wanted this nightmare to end. She wanted to live. So she dropped her weapon and begged for mercy.
Soverick approached her swiftly like the grim reaper. His spear flashed and he impaled her 3 times in a second. One to the head which burst apart, another to her chest which splintered, and the last one at her head. But he missed. Her head wasn’t there anymore.
That’s how he usually attacks. If they get lucky and block the first attack, then a second one aimed at their chest will do the trick. If they are lucky enough to survive even that, then their head will surely be exposed and safe for the taking. He had been so caught up in the act of killing them that he hadn’t considered her pleas.
It wasn’t that he didn’t hear her. He just never considered it. He thought it was a ploy. He ignored it and went for the kill. His mind had been focused on the kill and how to do it efficiently. Now that he missed, he stopped and considered his opponents.
They were cowering and shivering. They were broken. But it wasn’t enough. He will show all the rest that didn’t join the fight what happens when they question his authority or it will undermine all his previous efforts. Those that didn’t join in defying him must feel themselves immensely lucky for showing restraint.
If he let these remaining people go it will reduce the impact of the consequences of failure. If there is a small chance of getting away with something, only then will you gamble. He will show them that there is a zero chance of surviving a rebellion against him. So he laughed. He threw his head back and laughed.
Then he resumed his hunt. He took down every last one of them. Even when they jumped down from the central dais and ran away. None could escape him. He hunted them down one by one and killed them. Then he dragged their bodies back to the dais.
They may have thought themselves heroes against a villain. He thought of them as weak and stupid. It is not a sin to be weak. You can always rectify that with training. But you must know your place. It is stupidity to fight someone that outclasses you because of principles. It is a sin punishable by death.