Had a very busy day, but still managed to squeeze this chapter out, love you all.
As Jeremy crossed the threshold into the inner sanctum of the guild, a hush fell upon the bustling room. The members, engrossed in their respective tasks, paused momentarily to acknowledge his presence. Some offered friendly greetings, their voices carrying a melody of warmth and camaraderie, while others simply nodded in recognition. It was evident that his arrival had not gone unnoticed, and Jeremy couldn't help but marvel at how seamlessly he seemed to blend into the fabric of the guild. "It appears that I have been embraced as one of their own," Jeremy mused, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he surveyed the scene before him. The realization that he had effortlessly assimilated into this clandestine world only fueled his intrigue, leaving him with a lingering sense of curiosity about the guild's inner workings. As he made his way towards Jessica's office, Jeremy couldn't help but ponder the significance of the guild members' familiarity with his presence. It seem
It was a scorching Sunday afternoon in Oakfield city, with the sun blazing down mercilessly, threatening to smite anyone in its path. The citizens of the city were desperately seeking refuge from the unusual and intense heat, clutching umbrellas as they went about their day, hoping to shield themselves from the blistering rays.Meanwhile, Jeremy found himself standing just before the entrance to the kitchen, a sheepish smile on his face as his mother scolded him. Ignoring her words, seemingly lost in thoughts as he pondered, "I thought the weather forecasters said it was going to be a thunderstorm?"His mother's voice grew louder as she hollered, trying to get his attention. But then, her tone softened, and a pitiful look crossed her face. "Jeremy," she said, her voice filled with disappointment, "are you even listening?""I'm sorry, Mum," Jeremy mumbled, his gaze fixed on the ground. He could sense his mother's disappointment, and it made him feel guilty."Where did you go for a wh
It was another mundane Monday at school, the day that almost every student dreaded. The weather matched the dullness of the day, with a gloomy atmosphere hanging in the air. The morning assembly passed by in a blur of announcements and mundane speeches.However, Jeremy was different. He walked with an air of extreme confidence, his uniform impeccably tailored and his shoes polished to perfection. The student who had once been discriminated against for his family's financial status, his white hair, and average looks, was now the talk of the school.As Jeremy made his way to class, he paid no attention to the stares and whispers around him. Girls blushed as he passed by, and even a few boys couldn't help but be captivated by his presence."Devils!" Jeremy thought inwardly, ignoring the eyes fixed on him and the awkward and lewd looks he received.People would have loved to approach him, to befriend him, but there was an unmistakable cold aura surrounding him and a fierce gaze in his ey
Determined to change the narrative and make himself more approachable and relatable, Jeremy made a conscious effort to switch off his cold aura. He wanted to show his classmates and teachers that there was more to him than just an intimidating presence. He softened his expression, allowing a genuine smile to grace his lips, and his demeanor transformed from aloof to welcoming.The change in Jeremy's aura didn't go unnoticed. Some of his classmates, who had previously been wary of approaching him, began to feel more at ease in his presence. They saw a side of him that they hadn't seen before, someone who was willing to engage and interact on a friendly level. Slowly but surely, Jeremy started to break down the barriers that had been built around him.As the day progressed, the dynamics within the school began to shift. Some were drawn to him out of genuine interest, while others sought to use his newfound popularity for their own gain.In the third period, Jeremy found himself in a m
Wednesday had arrived, heralding a pivotal moment for Jeremy as he stepped into the bustling main office of the dark guild. A grand sign emblazoned with the guild's name greeted him, casting a festive glow over the transformed space, now resembling a lively dance floor. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, fueled by an impressive spread of refreshments: from fine wines and chilled beers to a variety of spirits, sodas, succulent steaks sizzling on grills, and an assortment of delectable treats.Before the revelry could commence, introductions took precedence. Jeremy surveyed the room, taking note of the twenty out of thirty hunters and exorcists who had gathered. Among them, fifteen held the esteemed C grade, each with a unique aura of seasoned experience. Another five members stood out as B grade, their presence exuding confidence and capability, and were filled by those hovering between B- and B+, each embodying their own blend of skill and determination.For the remaining ten
"Prepare yourselves, everyone!" Warhuz, a highly skilled exorcist ranked C+, bellowed with a commanding presence as he clapped his hands, exuding confidence. He led the group towards the imposing purple portal that stood before them, ready to embark on a perilous mission.Brandon, second-in-command in this operation and also a C+ Hunter, couldn't contain his excitement and enthusiasm. "A'ight, yeah! less do zis ma'f*ckers!" he exclaimed, leaping around like a jubilant frog.Jeremy, on the other hand, wore a sly grin as he discreetly suppressed his aura. Being underestimated and perceived as the weakest member of the group worked to his advantage. "Here I come," he whispered to himself, relishing the element of surprise he held.However, Jeremy's momentary satisfaction was interrupted by a man with a comically shaped mustache who arrogantly approached him. "Don't even think about abandoning your post. As a D-ranked exorcist, your role is to mine crystals, collect valuable items, an
"Stealth mode!" Jeremy proclaimed, drawing his katana from seemingly thin air. As Jeremy prepared to face the enraged creatures, he couldn't help but wonder why they were already in rage mode. Had someone been in this dungeon before them? Or perhaps another team was also clearing this dungeon? Jeremy was aware that other guilds raided dungeons as well. However, If that was the case, this dungeon should have already been marked. There was no time to dwell on these thoughts as the beasts lunged towards Jeremy and Stella. "Watch out!" Jeremy warned Stella, noticing two tigers already leaping towards her. Realizing she couldn't escape the dire situation, Jeremy swiftly dashed towards her, slashing in a calculated manner. With precise movements, he targeted the first tiger's paws and the second tiger's belly. In a rapid succession of slashes, Jeremy aimed for the second tiger's eyes and the first tiger's neck before retreating, grabbing Stella's hand and pulling her away from the b
As the battle intensified, Jeremy's movements became more fluid and controlled. He anticipated the tigers' attacks, dodging and parrying with expert precision. With every swing of his katana, he aimed for vital spots, hoping to weaken his opponents.But the tigers were no ordinary foes. Their agility and strength were unmatched, and their thick fur offered a form of natural armor. Jeremy's strikes, though precise, seemed to have little effect. Blood trickled down his arm from a cut inflicted by one of the tigers, but he ignored the pain, his focus unwavering.He utilized his surroundings to gain an advantage. He lured one tiger towards a narrow passage, where its size and agility would be limited. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly sidestepped the tiger's attack, causing it to crash into the wall.As the injured tiger recovered, Jeremy swiftly moved to the next phase of his plan. He positioned himself strategically, using his katana to redirect the attention of the remaining two t
The air around them crackled with an oppressive, unnatural tension as Typhon stood motionless, towering over the battlefield like a living storm. His eyes, glowing like molten fire, were locked onto McCoy and his guild, his cold expression betraying no hint of mercy.A grotesque, unsettling noise filled the air. Typhon made an odd, guttural sound, and slowly, methodically, he stuck his massive hand down his throat. The movement was unnatural, almost alien, as he dug deeper, pulling something from within him. The sound of slick, greasy slime slithering over the ground followed, enough to make anyone with a semblance of sensitivity to retch.“Nu-ah...” Typhon muttered in an unsettling tone, his voice resonating deeply as his monstrous hand gripped the hilt of a weapon.From his throat emerged a sword—an absurdly long and grotesque blade, dripping with thick, viscous fluid. It was no ordinary weapon. The blade itself seemed to pulse, radiating a malevolent energy that made the air feel t
The flames didn’t stop with Jim. The fiery blast tore through the air, its heat warping the atmosphere. Buildings miles away were scorched clean, their facades riddled with perfectly circular holes as though a god’s spear had pierced them. Those not incinerated crumbled from the sheer force of the blast, collapsing in a cacophony of destruction.Even McCoy, standing far from the epicenter, felt the intense heat lick at his skin. His magically enhanced senses allowed him to track the blast’s trajectory, and what he saw sent chills down his spine.The devastation extended far beyond the city, leaving a trail of ruin in its wake. Streets buckled, trees withered to ash, and the ground itself cracked and smoldered. All of this happened in less than five seconds, yet the aftermath stretched for miles.A cold sweat ran down McCoy’s back as the reality of Typhon’s power sunk in. His hands trembled as he took in the scope of the destruction, but he forced himself to stay composed.“This isn’t
McCoy stood frozen, his mind racing through every piece of mythology he had ever read. His analytical nature warred with his instincts, both screaming at him to act but in entirely different ways.Before him stood Typhon—the youngest son of Gaia, a monster of unparalleled power. A being feared even by gods, Typhon’s mere presence warped the air, bending it to his will. His form loomed over the battlefield, a tempest of chaotic energy swirling around him."The youngest son of Gaia," McCoy said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Surely you do not want to destroy a part of yourself."Typhon’s glowing eyes narrowed, his thunderous voice reverberating like an earthquake. "Huh? It seems this young mortal here is a fan of mine.""You could say that," McCoy replied, wiping the sweat rolling down his temple.He wasn’t lying. Since childhood, McCoy had immersed himself in the stories of gods and monsters, legends and myths that spanned cultures and centuries. Much to his parents’ dismay, he
Elijah stood firm, his voice steady despite his labored breathing. “Fighting isn’t just about brute strength,” he declared, his words cutting through the chaos. “Sometimes, wisdom outmatches power.”The words had barely left Elijah’s mouth when a deafening blast tore through the battlefield.Soren’s body was flung backward, forced deeper into the earth as concentric circles of light—white, gold, and red—engulfed him. Each explosion was more devastating than the last, the ground shattering beneath him in a cascading storm of debris.The battlefield transformed into a massive crater, the destruction extending for miles. Smoke and fire erupted from the epicenter, painting the sky in ominous hues.From a distance, Elijah and James watched the chaos unfold. They panted heavily, their bodies trembling from exhaustion. Blood dripped from their wounds, pooling beneath them as they knelt on the cracked earth.“Did we get him?” James asked, his voice hoarse and uncertain.Elijah didn’t respond
Two figures stood amidst the wreckage of a city torn apart by their power. One radiated a blinding, ethereal light, while the other exuded a suffocating darkness that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Their combined presence created a storm of energy that rippled outward, shaking the city to its very core and filling the air with a foreboding sense of impending doom.“Yo,” James sneered, his voice carrying a sinister edge. The shadowy aura around him writhed and twisted like a living entity, its tendrils snaking across the ground as if searching for prey.Soren stood across from him, grinning wickedly. His red aura flared with malevolent energy, a living flame that seemed to consume the air itself. A glowing crimson rod formed in his hand, jagged and pulsating with chaotic energy, its shape constantly shifting like molten lava.“This is going to be fun,” Soren declared, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.The moment the words left his mouth, the ground beneath them shattered.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate, the ground trembling under the immense force of their clash. Elijah stood amidst the destruction, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His once-pristine white suit was now in tatters, his body marred by countless bruises and cuts. Yet, his eyes burned with an unyielding resolve.Across from him stood Soren, his figure exuding an aura of superiority. His crimson gloves gleamed ominously, his sly grin a cruel mockery of the man struggling before him.“You sure are strong for a mortal stuck in the A-rank,” Soren remarked casually, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted the base of his gloves.Elijah didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing as he worked to suppress the pain from his injuries. The earlier kick had done significant damage, and he knew he couldn’t afford to falter now.“Twenty minutes,” he thought, focusing his energy inward to heal his ravaged organs. “That’s all I need to buy him. Just twenty minutes.”Soren cocked hi
James stirred in the rubble, the sharp sting of pain dragging him back to consciousness. Blood trickled down his face, pooling beneath him, and his entire body felt as though it had been shattered and pieced back together. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the suffocating weight of debris and exhaustion.“Damn it,” he thought bitterly, his mind swimming in a haze of fragmented memories."Since I was young, I knew I was different. Special." James’s thoughts drifted to a distant past, a time when the world had been simpler. "I was born into wealth, into privilege. My family wanted for nothing, and from the moment I could walk, it was clear I wasn’t like the others."By six, James wasn’t just strong; he was superhuman. His punches could break walls, and his reflexes were unmatched. But with that strength came isolation."I terrified the other kids," he thought. "They couldn’t understand me. My silence, my ferocious gaze, the way I always got what I wanted—it
Soren descended gracefully, his crimson aura swirling around him like a living entity. His polished red gloves caught the dim light, and he dusted them off as if brushing away imaginary dirt. His gaze fixed on Elijah, a sneer tugging at his lips.“Insolent being,” he scoffed, his voice carrying an air of disdain. “How many times must I remind the world? I’ve stood at the peak of S rank for over a century. The strongest gods are just within my grasp. To think someone like you could challenge me… it’s laughable.”Elijah stood firm, his calm demeanor masking the storm within. “I agree with you,” he said, his tone steady. “Your power is extraordinary. But, you see, I’m not exactly ordinary myself.”Soren raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.“I’ve been stuck at the peak of A rank for over two decades,” Elijah continued. “And just as the A rank is a bridge to the heroic ranks, S rank serves as the gateway to divinity. You stand at the edge of godhood, but even the gods have their l
The city of Texheram was no more than a smoldering wasteland. What once stood as a bustling metropolis was now a graveyard of shattered buildings and burning rubble. The streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent except for the crackling of flames and the occasional cries for help. The sky was a murky gray, thick with ash, and the faint glow of fires illuminated the chaos below. It was in this hellscape that Soren stood, embodying the destruction he had wrought.Perched on the edge of a crumbling skyscraper, Soren exuded a terrifying aura of dominance. His crimson attire, immaculate despite the carnage, caught the flickering light of the fires, and his tousled hair danced with the breeze. In his grasp was a woman, her neck clutched tightly in his hand. She gasped for air, her struggles feeble against the overwhelming strength of her captor.“Isn’t the weather splendid today?” Soren said with a grin that stretched unnaturally wide. His voice was calm, almost cheerful, yet laced