The moment Flint gave the order, the cavern exploded into chaos.
Benjamin moved first.
Faster than he should have been able to.
One second, he stood there, calm and unwavering.
The next—he was upon them.
Flint barely had time to react before Benjamin's fist crashed into his stomach like a hammer.
Crack.
Flint's body folded, the impact sending a shockwave through his ribs.
Pain flared through his gut, and he stumbled back—just in time to see something impossible.
A glow.
A deep, seething red glow erupted from Benjamin's skin—or rather, just above it.
A faint, flickering armor of crimson energy surrounded him. It pulsed with a dangerous hunger, like molten iron barely contained beneath his flesh.
Flint's mind reeled.
He has mana?
How?
Benjamin had never shown a single sign of magical capability. And yet, here he was—standing amidst the runic glow of the portal, bathed in a burning crimson aura, his presence immense.
This wasn't just mana usage.
This was refined power.
"What the hell…?" Darron muttered beside him, still holding his injured side.
Benjamin exhaled, his broad chest rising and falling. His expression was calm—too calm.
"You shouldn't have done that," he murmured.
And then he moved again.
Like a beast let loose.
"Kill him!" Flint barked, regaining control. "Now!"
The assistants—Garett, Solon, Eris, and Vale—sprang into action.
Solon, the tallest of them, rushed first, his greatsword cleaving downward with brutal force.
Benjamin didn't dodge. He took the hit. The sword slammed into his shoulder—
And bounced off.
The crimson energy around Benjamin's body flared, absorbing the impact like a shield of living fire.
Solon staggered back, eyes wide. Benjamin's hand shot forward, wrapping around Solon's throat. With a single, effortless motion, he hurled him across the cavern.
Crack!
Solon's body collided with the cave wall, slumping unconscious. Flint's heart slammed in his chest. "That armor," he rasped. "What is that?"
Benjamin smiled.
It was a slow, dangerous thing.
"Crimson Armor," he said. "A little something I picked up in the war."
Flint's blood went cold.
The Valkar War.
The war that had torn the country apart three decades ago.
And Benjamin… had fought in it.
Flint gritted his teeth. "You're bluffing."
Benjamin raised a brow.
"Try me."
Garett lunged next, twin daggers flashing in the dim light. He moved fast—a whirlwind of slashes aimed at Benjamin's sides. But the moment his blades connected—the crimson armor pulsed. And then—
Snap.
Both daggers shattered on impact. Garett barely had time to gasp before Benjamin drove a knee into his gut. There was a sickening crunch as his ribs caved in. Flint watched in horrified awe as Garett was lifted off his feet and thrown back twenty feet, slamming into the cavern floor.
He didn't get back up.
That was two down.
Vale and Eris hesitated.
"You still want to fight?" Benjamin asked, rolling his shoulders. "Or should I make it easy for you?"
Vale, the youngest of them, trembled. Eris,, however, wasn't as foolish.
She pulled something from her belt—a vial of liquid silver.
Flint's eyes widened. Alchemist's Bane. A chemical potion designed to disrupt mana flow.
"Drink," Eris commanded Vale, tossing him a vial.
Both downed the silver liquid in one gulp—
And their bodies changed.
Veins turned black. Eyes glowed silver. Their limbs tensed with unnatural strength.
Mana Overdrive. A risky, temporary boost to their abilities.
Flint grinned. Now let's see how good you are, old man.
Eris and Vale charged. This time, they were blurs of motion. They struck together—Vale from the right, Eris from the left. Benjamin ducked under Eris' blade and caught Vale's wrist mid-swing.
The younger man gasped—before Benjamin's fist slammed into his stomach.
The impact was earth-shattering.
Vale collapsed, coughing blood. His enhanced body couldn't take it.
Eris barely had time to react before Benjamin turned and grabbed her blade with his bare hand.
The crimson energy pulsed.
With a single, powerful crush, he shattered the sword.
Eris' eyes widened in horror.
Benjamin didn't hesitate.
His elbow struck her temple—hard.
She crumpled.
Four down.
That left only—
Darron.
And Flint himself. Flint swallowed. Darron, injured and wheezing, looked at him with desperation.
Flint took a step back.
This… this was impossible.
Benjamin was unstoppable.
His armor wasn't just protecting him.
It was feeding him.
Absorbing their attacks.
Turning their strength against them.
Flint clenched his fists.
"Darron," he muttered.
Darron nodded.
Together, they charged.
Flint came low, aiming a knife at Benjamin's ribs. Darron came high, his dueling cane swinging at Benjamin's head. For the first time, Benjamin didn't dodge. He let them hit him.
The moment their weapons connected, his Crimson Armor flared—
And exploded outward.
A shockwave of red energy sent both men flying backwards.
Flint crashed against the stone, head spinning.
Darron hit the ground hard, his cane snapping in two.
Flint coughed blood. His entire body ached. Slowly, he lifted his head—
And saw Benjamin looming over him.
His Crimson Armor pulsed.
His eyes were dark.
"You're lucky," Benjamin muttered.
Flint froze.
A sharp pain lanced through his side—
And he realized Benjamin's boot was on his chest.
"Because I'm only going to say this once," Benjamin continued.
His voice was cold.
"Stay. Down."
Flint couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He had lost. Completely. He could see it now—how outmatched he'd been from the start.
This wasn't just an old soldier.
This was a war-forged monster.
Benjamin wasn't human.
He was something else.
Something terrifying.
Something unstoppable.
Flint let his head fall back, gasping.
Darron lay still beside him, groaning in pain.
Eris, Vale, Garett, and Solon were unconscious or dead.
And Benjamin…
Benjamin hadn't even broken a sweat.
The Crimson Armor flickered, then faded.
And Benjamin stepped off his chest.
Flint closed his eyes.
He had lost.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
The cavern was silent.
Flint could barely breathe.
They had lost.
His body ached, battered from Benjamin's overwhelming power. The old soldier stood victorious, his Crimson Armor flickering, his breathing still calm despite the wreckage of bodies surrounding him.
Solon lay unmoving, blood pooling beneath his skull. Garett's body was twisted, his ribs likely shattered from that devastating knee strike. Eris and Vale were down, gasping, groaning—alive, but barely.
Darron coughed beside him, his hand shaking as he tried to push himself up.
Flint should have stayed down.
Should have accepted defeat.
But something inside him refused.
Something inside all of them refused.
And then—
Eris moved.
It was a twitch—barely a motion—but it set everything in motion.
A final, desperate gamble.
"Now!" Flint barked, rolling away.
All four of them surged forward.
Solon, bloody but alive, dragged himself upright with a snarl, grabbing his shattered greatsword in both hands. Eris lunged low, a dagger flashing. Vale came from the side, and Darron—despite the agony in his ribs—pushed forward with his dueling cane, aiming straight for Benjamin's throat.
For the first time that fight—
Benjamin was caught off guard.
The Crimson Armor had flickered.
Weakened.
His power had absorbed too much. Benjamin spun, blocking Vale's blade with his forearm—but that left his side open. Eris' dagger plunged into his ribs. Benjamin grunted—but he still moved. He ripped the dagger free, elbowing Eris hard enough to snap her neck.
But Solon's greatsword fell next.
Benjamin turned—too slow. The sword buried itself deep in his shoulder, cutting through flesh and bone. His armor flared weakly—but it wasn't enough.
Benjamin staggered.
And Darron took his chance.
He rammed his dueling cane forward, aiming for the throat.
The steel pierced through.
Benjamin froze.
His body went still.
For a second—just one second—Flint dared to hope.
Maybe, just maybe—
Benjamin moved.
"No."
The Crimson Armor exploded outward.
It didn't absorb this time.
It unleashed.
A final, blazing pulse of raw energy, burning red like the last embers of a dying fire. The air cracked. And all of them fell.
Solon, eyes wide in horror, was split in half by his own sword's backlash.
Vale's chest caved inward, blood spurting from his mouth as he collapsed.
Darron, the one who had landed the killing blow, had his heart ruptured by the recoil. His body shuddered, then fell beside Garett, the man whose ribs had probably pierced his lungs.
And then there was only Flint.
The last one left.
He staggered, breathing ragged, his body broken, his limbs trembling.
He looked at Benjamin. The old soldier swayed, his legs shaking. Blood dripped from his lips. He turned—slowly, painfully—to look at the portal.
Merrick was there.
Mira was there.
And Char was there.
The runes on the ground glowed bright. They had been waiting. Watching.
And now—
The ritual was complete. The portal ignited. Benjamin exhaled, his body sagging.
He turned toward Char, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.
"Go."
Char hesitated.
"Benjamin—"
"Go!"
The light surged.
And then—
They were gone.
The portal flashed bright—
Then vanished.
Leaving Flint alone. The cavern was silent. The only sound was the dripping of blood. And the rasping breath of a dying warrior.
Benjamin slowly sank to his knees, his crimson armor fading to nothing.
Flint watched.
He watched the last fire of a legend burn out.
And he couldn't look away.