Kaelen stood before his father and the battlefield around them was still trembling from the shockwave of his arrival. Smoke curled off his boots. His robes, soaked in potion residue and holy energy, fluttered with the pressure radiating from his body. Golden arcs of divine energy shimred across his limbs, dancing like fire over oiled steel.
Derek coughed and pushed himself up, pain carved deep into his face. Blood matted the side of his hair. His sword-arm trembled not from fear, but from the exhaustion of dancing with death for far too long.
"Kaelen..."
"Save it," Kaelen cut in, pulling out his communication crystal and speaking into it sharply. "This is Kaelen. I need imdiate evacuation of my father now. He’s injured. Get him out of the forest. Now."
Static. Then a soft voice crackled through. "Roger. Support team en route. Teleport anchor set. Give us five seconds."
Derek tried to sit up. "Wait. I’m not leaving you here alone..."
Kaelen turned to him. His dark eyes shimred with silver white holy light.
Then, he clenched his fist and threw a punch sideways into empty air.
The very air cracked.
A concussive boom exploded outward. Trees in the distance snapped like matchsticks. The force tore a canyon of destruction forward, ripping up roots, hurling debris, and shattering a jagged scar through the forest floor. Birds shot up from the canopy like arrows, and even the faraway mountains shook.
Everything in the path of that punch... ceased to exist.
Derek froze.
Kaelen exhaled slowly, letting the steam of divine energy bleed from his shoulders and smirked. "I’m not used to my own strength, might squash you by mistake?"
Derek stared at the path of destruction. The raw pressure radiating off Kaelen was unmistakable. It was already above the gold tier, teetering sowhere between low and mid tier epic warrior in raw strength. His son’s body was glowing, his veins lit with gold, his muscles reinforced by endless stacks of healing magic and divine power.
For a long mont, Derek said nothing. His pride warred with his logic. But he had been a warrior long enough to know when to trust strength over emotion. And Kaelen, as he was now, was stronger than him by a large margin. Stronger than most.
"...Fine," Derek finally said, rising to his feet with effort. "But the mont your skill runs out you have to retreat. Do you hear ?"
Kaelen grinned, the light of battle burning behind his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just wait for my victory in a few minutes."
The support caster teleported in with a flash of white light, casting a barrier around Derek and preparing the channel.
Derek looked back once as the light wrapped around him. Kaelen stood alone now. The wind tore through the clearing, carrying leaves and smoke, but the boy didn’t move.
His eyes burned with resolution, there was not even an ounce of fear or nervousness
And ahead of him...
The monster stepped forward again.
Its black eyes locked onto Kaelen burning with equal intensity.
The mont Derek vanished in a flash of light.
Kaelen let out a slow breath.
Then he unleashed all his energy, before he had suppressed it fearing that it might hurt his dad.
The divine energy around his body flared up, golden light coiling off him like wild smoke. His muscles tensed. His mana surged. The very air seed to hum with pressure. This was the strength wielded only by those few Clerics chosen by the god.
The Tyrant didn’t wait for Kaelen to attack.
With a sharp shriek, the monster lunged, three feet of avian-headed muscle and rage, all claws and fury. Its taloned foot slamd down where Kaelen stood, cracking the earth. But he was already gone.
Kaelen moved in a blur like a ghost.
His body dipped and slid, sidestepping with inhuman precision. One arm brushed the air just as a claw swept past his head,.missing him by less than a finger’s breadth. His footwork was sharp, honed, tight, like a dancer in a storm of blades.
WHAM.
He twisted and slamd his elbow into the creature’s ribs. A crunchy sound of the ribs shattering ca. The monster grunted, stumbling back, but only for a mont.
It ca again.
A flurry of wild swipes, two claws from above, one from the side, the last aiming to gouge Kaelen’s legs from underneath. But every strike t only air. He weaved through them, turning sideways, bending low, flipping over a rising claw with terrifying ease. Sparks flew off the ground from the sheer speed of the attacks.
And then he struck back.
A clean, brutal palm to the chest, which rang out like the sound of a war drum, deep and reverberating. The Tyrant’s head feathers shivered from the blow.
It roared and lunged with both hands, trying to grab him. Kaelen bent low, dodging through its legs. His hands planted on the ground. He spun. His heel ca up with blinding speed, a roundhouse kick to the creature’s spine.
THWACK.
The Tyrant staggered forward.
Kaelen didn’t stop. He was already dashing forward again. His fists blurred, one-two-three, exactly three strikes, straight into the monster’s thigh, stomach and side. Each strike left a visible mark, bruises blooming black under the thick grayish skin, bones cracking under imnse strength and pressure.
The monster under all that pain and frustration still rushed in for another strike like a madman. It brought both hands down like twin hamrs to crush him.
Kaelen simply stepped forward, under the blow, and punched the monster in the gut.
Hard.
A deep, wet thud echoed across the clearing. The Tyrant lurched, coughing out black blood.
That was new.
The monster reeled back, eyes wide with fury. It wasn’t used to being hurt. Not like this.
But Kaelen’s knuckles were already glowing white with divine light. His mana had fused into his strikes, each punch layered with weight, will, and healing magic exchanged into destruction, the unique fusion of strength and cleric. His skills weren’t made for offense. But he had bent them. Reinvented them.
And now the monster was learning what that ant. It had to even if didn’t want to because Kaelen was literally smacking it hard with results.
It staggered back, panting. Its massive chest rose and fell in ragged heaves. No opponent had ever danced like this. No human had ever fought it toe to toe. Not like this. Not with bruises stacking across its body faster than it could recover.
Kaelen’s eyes didn’t waver. His stance remained low and loose, energy rolling off him in waves. He didn’t even feel the pain in his arms. The potions and buffs were still in effect. He was in his strongest state ever.
This ti his sanctified wrath was not just fueled by him and his potions alone, but with the help of a whole team of gold rank supports and three epic grade healing potions.
"You picked the wrong human to prey on," he muttered in a low but powerful tone.
And then, he charged again.
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