Nairobi, Capital of Kenya, Wednesday 29 [11:29 p.m.].
On top of a building, a plump man wearing full-body metal armor looked straight ahead.
Waiting calmly, after a minute passed, he smiled.
“Start the attack,” ordered the man over the communication system.
The next moment, the rocket trucks under his command fired the rockets, illuminating the night sky and leaving a trail in their wake.
A marvelous sight, whose splendor increased, when...
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
Dozens of explosions boomed through the camp of the ‘Somali Terror’ forces and although some explosions were stopped by the camp’s magical barrier, still, in other areas, they hit in their entirety.
The artillery trucks were old and, although with modernity, the effectiveness had diminished; it was still useful and ultimately an excellent starting card.
The tanks were the next to move through the streets, accompanied by the soldiers.
Aiming from different directions at the enemy camp, which was reinforced with fighting vehicles and weapons of war.
The target was the main camp of the Somali Terror forces.
The plump man unsheathed his long sword high in the sky and then took a step forward on the precipice.
However, he did not fall to the ground, but produced platforms under his feet and descended in the direction of the enemy camp.
The alarm sounded on the other side and the soldiers moved along with their combat vehicles.
*BOOM*
An enemy anti-tank fired toward a tank, which, thanks to its frame, took no damage.
Before they could reload, the Lord of Mombasa unleashed a slash that split the antitank weapon and cut the militiamen wielding it in half.
Those militiamen were normal people who were not even skill users and a cut of an S-rank was deadly.
Blood, organs, and entrails were left in full view, in a grotesque sight that frightened those watching.
Just what the Lord of Mombasa was looking for, who, instead of killing those skittish soldiers, turned his gaze to the approaching tank.
His light blue sword aura surrounded his blade.
*BOOM*
The tank fired and the Lord of Mombasa at a speed that eyes could not catch cut the shot in half, without triggering the explosion or being affected by the force of the impact.
The next moment, the tank’s machine gun fired, trying to mow him down. However, the Lord of Mombasa moved, relying on the barrier of his armor, which repelled the attacks.
Although he started out moving slowly in a moment, his walk turned into a run and the man, at a speed that did not match his figure, infused his sword with his light blue aura and performed a powerful slash.
He was over ten meters away from the tank and, likewise, the sword aura extended in a powerful slash, which was accompanied by gusts of wind that cut the surroundings of his target.
The cut was so powerful that half of the tank’s shell, starting with the middle of the barrel, was severed.
Completely rendering it useless.
The light blue sword aura condensed again as the Lord of Mombasa watched as the skill users arrived to engage his troops.
Looking at his enemies with his sword in hand, he gave a smile.
“Today no one will come to help you...”
This time would differ from those times where the Somali Terror came to face him... Today, no one would come to help them.
Today would be the end of this war.
******
Kismaayo, an ancient city in Somalia, Wednesday 29 [11:25 p.m.].
As one of the many countries that ended up disappearing in Africa, Somalia could not withstand the cruelty of the Great Cataclysm.
Amphibious monsters and sea monsters reached its shores and while the latter caused destruction in the ports, the former went inland, causing the emergence of warlords, which then led to the fall of the nation.
These warlords were not local individuals, but foreign players, fleeing or exiled from some nations, who came to these lands spreading chaos and destruction.
Unlike the central countries of Africa, in what was now the magic forest... Somalia suffered the cruelty of human beings.
General McLean walked through the streets of Kismaayo without changing his expression, blending into the crowd, looking like one of the many African adventurers.
There were still unscathed cities, as there were always people seeking the natural resources or seeking to become rulers.
However, in Somalia, no one was fighting to take control of the whole territory.
The major reason was that the Somali Pirate controlled the old capital Mogadishu was the strongest individual around and no one wanted to bother him.
Some cities, like Mogadishu, were progressing economically even when they were under the control of some individuals.
Unfortunately, Kismaayo was different, as it was under the control of a tyrant, who only cared about his own interests.
Militiamen moved around, entering restaurants, bars, and different businesses, demanding money, food, and free goods, sometimes the lives of residents, if not their bodies.
Poverty, crime, and corruption are all in one place.
Battered streets, old and unmaintained buildings, the city, despite having an excellent geographical position thanks to the surrounding dungeons and its harbor, looked like ruins.
However, there was a single place that was different, as if it was a completely different universe and that place was a part of the coastal area.
On the shore of the coast, there was an artificially created mountain and on that mountain was a western-style castle, whose splendor was striking and at odds with the surroundings.
Magnificent columns, white stone boxes, statues, and splendid windows, which stood out to the eye.
The lord of the castle wanted to show his greatness through this creation.
General McLean always disliked such people.
They took power not for their people, not to help or at least give the appearance of it.
Only for pleasure, fun, and sometimes their own satisfaction.
They enslaved and dominated others, believing themselves to be feudal lords, but they were nothing more than mere humans.
General McLean took a deep breath as a spear appeared in his old hands.
The militiamen maintaining security gave him pointed looks and none could notice his gaze, which was fixed on the castle tower.
Where the faint presence of an S-Rank could be felt... That presence that the ‘Somali Terror’ always released.
Tensing his muscles, General McLean jumped towards the castle as his holographic clock vibrated, alerting him it was time to act.
In other areas explosions, screams and the alarm sounded to start the battle, however, General McLean kept his focus and attention on his target and waved his spear, cutting with his simple strength and dexterity.
A splendid slash spread out, swallowing part of the tower and moving out to sea, splitting the water for a few seconds.
Emanating the fierce presence of an SS-Rank capable of cutting everything in its path, General McLean landed inside the tower and immediately frowned.
The presence he had sensed came from a crystal that replicated the presence of the Somali Terror.
“Where is it?” General McLean asked, breaking through the wall and reaching out to the guards who stood outside, stunned by what had happened.
“W... AHhh...”
Before a Rank A militiaman could say anything, General McLean pierced his stomach and impaled him in the wall with his spear.
“Where is the Somali Terror?” he asked and, looking seriously at the approaching guards, added. “If you do not speak now, you can never utter a word again.”
His voice carried the strength of someone who could cut a castle in half and someone who could murder without hesitation.
He was a member of the military, but General McLean was still the same person as when he joined Zerzura City.
A Great Warlord, who fought for his beliefs and wished to accomplish his goals, no matter the methods.
“Speak or...” He muttered, pulling the spear out of the militiaman who was groaning at the wall.
The spear in his hands was deadly, and the militiaman fell to the ground with part of his stomach ripped open, trying to clutch his stomach, as he groaned and cried out in pain.
Remarkably, he endured and was still alive, although it was not unusual when he was an A-ranked user.
The presence, the smell of blood, and the gaze of General McLean led to the guards encircled, swallowing in fear, realizing that, if they made one false step, they would end up dead.
“The Somali Terror... He... He’s with General Kavuri.” Reported a militiaman, who was trembling with fear.
General McLean’s expression trembled for a moment and, without caring about the look on the militiamen’s faces who were trembling from his powerful aura, he made his way to the balcony of the castle to leave.
Before he could prepare to leave, he noticed in the distance an ancient ship at sea.
A large galleon surrounded by a light gray mist, floating on the sea.
From that ship, he could feel a presence whose strength was similar to his own.
The Somali Pirate made his presence known, causing General McLean’s expression to become solemn.
Even though he didn’t know if the fight would start, as it was very difficult to foresee what a lunatic would do, he had no choice but to stay here.
“I hope they are all right.” General McLean muttered as he watched his soldiers defeat the Somali Terror forces.
******
—What do we do? —Henrik asked through the telepathy network.
Aurora frowned as she looked at the Somali Terror that had arrived.
“I’ve blocked communications, but I’m not sure how long it will last.” Liam quickly informed her to decide.
That dark-skinned man whose scar on his cheek made him look fierce was now comfortably greeting General Kavuri.
An S-Rank... He was present, and the situation became more complicated than he had expected.
With his own A-Rank bodyguards, he made Aurora frown for a moment.
They could not wait, for at any moment the report could come to General Kavuri or the Somali Terror that they were under attack.
The only option left was...
—Let’s continue. Clémentine and Henrik’s group will continue with their work, save and defeat General Kavuri’s forces. As for Akira, Liam and Alice will take care of the Somali Terror, while Oscar and the rest will support them against their bodyguards. I will go after General Kavuri. —Aurora quickly ordered through the telepathy network as a sword appeared at her waist.
“You don’t need to overdo it. I’ll take care of it.” Stopped Alice looking at her calmly.
Was she worried about her sword and her past?
Alice was that kind of person who always supported her and looked to see that she didn’t suffer.
However, if everyone was putting themselves in a dangerous situation, Aurora had no desire to hold back.
—I understand.
—Understood.
Clémentine and Henrik’s acceptance was received, and Aurora gave her sister a smile so she wouldn’t worry.
This was not the worst situation they could find themselves in, and they had some leeway thanks to the S-Ranks present in their group.
—Sumo Priestess Xaali, you give the signal. Have the others prepare for a lightning attack.
They would not be able to stealthily hide as before because of an S-Rank with keen senses being present, however, that did not mean they would lose the element of surprise.
Looking through the small screen of her holographic watch at the High Priestess Xaali who was preparing the ritual, Aurora took a deep breath as she clenched her fists, ready for combat.
High Priestess Xaali’s ritual would lock them all in, preventing anyone inside from escaping by any method.
They had come with the objective of taking charge of General Kavuri and, although the Somali terror had appeared; the aim had not changed.
Rescue hostages and defeat the enemies.
As simple as that.
Nairobi, Capital of Kenya, Wednesday 29 [11:29 p.m.].
On top of a building, a plump man wearing full-body metal armor looked straight ahead.
Waiting calmly, after a minute passed, he smiled.
“Start the attack,” ordered the man over the communication system.
The next moment, the rocket trucks under his command fired the rockets, illuminating the night sky and leaving a trail in their wake.
A marvelous sight, whose splendor increased, when...
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
*BOOM*
Dozens of explosions boomed through the camp of the ‘Somali Terror’ forces and although some explosions were stopped by the camp’s magical barrier, still, in other areas, they hit in their entirety.
The artillery trucks were old and, although with modernity, the effectiveness had diminished; it was still useful and ultimately an excellent starting card.
The tanks were the next to move through the streets, accompanied by the soldiers.
Aiming from different directions at the enemy camp, which was reinforced with fighting vehicles and weapons of war.
The target was the main camp of the Somali Terror forces.
The plump man unsheathed his long sword high in the sky and then took a step forward on the precipice.
However, he did not fall to the ground, but produced platforms under his feet and descended in the direction of the enemy camp.
The alarm sounded on the other side and the soldiers moved along with their combat vehicles.
*BOOM*
An enemy anti-tank fired toward a tank, which, thanks to its frame, took no damage.
Before they could reload, the Lord of Mombasa unleashed a slash that split the antitank weapon and cut the militiamen wielding it in half.
Those militiamen were normal people who were not even skill users and a cut of an S-rank was deadly.
Blood, organs, and entrails were left in full view, in a grotesque sight that frightened those watching.
Just what the Lord of Mombasa was looking for, who, instead of killing those skittish soldiers, turned his gaze to the approaching tank.
His light blue sword aura surrounded his blade.
*BOOM*
The tank fired and the Lord of Mombasa at a speed that eyes could not catch cut the shot in half, without triggering the explosion or being affected by the force of the impact.
The next moment, the tank’s machine gun fired, trying to mow him down. However, the Lord of Mombasa moved, relying on the barrier of his armor, which repelled the attacks.
Although he started out moving slowly in a moment, his walk turned into a run and the man, at a speed that did not match his figure, infused his sword with his light blue aura and performed a powerful slash.
He was over ten meters away from the tank and, likewise, the sword aura extended in a powerful slash, which was accompanied by gusts of wind that cut the surroundings of his target.
The cut was so powerful that half of the tank’s shell, starting with the middle of the barrel, was severed.
Completely rendering it useless.
The light blue sword aura condensed again as the Lord of Mombasa watched as the skill users arrived to engage his troops.
Looking at his enemies with his sword in hand, he gave a smile.
“Today no one will come to help you...”
This time would differ from those times where the Somali Terror came to face him... Today, no one would come to help them.
Today would be the end of this war.
******
Kismaayo, an ancient city in Somalia, Wednesday 29 [11:25 p.m.].
As one of the many countries that ended up disappearing in Africa, Somalia could not withstand the cruelty of the Great Cataclysm.
Amphibious monsters and sea monsters reached its shores and while the latter caused destruction in the ports, the former went inland, causing the emergence of warlords, which then led to the fall of the nation.
These warlords were not local individuals, but foreign players, fleeing or exiled from some nations, who came to these lands spreading chaos and destruction.
Unlike the central countries of Africa, in what was now the magic forest... Somalia suffered the cruelty of human beings.
General McLean walked through the streets of Kismaayo without changing his expression, blending into the crowd, looking like one of the many African adventurers.
There were still unscathed cities, as there were always people seeking the natural resources or seeking to become rulers.
However, in Somalia, no one was fighting to take control of the whole territory.
The major reason was that the Somali Pirate controlled the old capital Mogadishu was the strongest individual around and no one wanted to bother him.
Some cities, like Mogadishu, were progressing economically even when they were under the control of some individuals.
Unfortunately, Kismaayo was different, as it was under the control of a tyrant, who only cared about his own interests.
Militiamen moved around, entering restaurants, bars, and different businesses, demanding money, food, and free goods, sometimes the lives of residents, if not their bodies.
Poverty, crime, and corruption are all in one place.
Battered streets, old and unmaintained buildings, the city, despite having an excellent geographical position thanks to the surrounding dungeons and its harbor, looked like ruins.
However, there was a single place that was different, as if it was a completely different universe and that place was a part of the coastal area.
On the shore of the coast, there was an artificially created mountain and on that mountain was a western-style castle, whose splendor was striking and at odds with the surroundings.
Magnificent columns, white stone boxes, statues, and splendid windows, which stood out to the eye.
The lord of the castle wanted to show his greatness through this creation.
General McLean always disliked such people.
They took power not for their people, not to help or at least give the appearance of it.
Only for pleasure, fun, and sometimes their own satisfaction.
They enslaved and dominated others, believing themselves to be feudal lords, but they were nothing more than mere humans.
General McLean took a deep breath as a spear appeared in his old hands.
The militiamen maintaining security gave him pointed looks and none could notice his gaze, which was fixed on the castle tower.
Where the faint presence of an S-Rank could be felt... That presence that the ‘Somali Terror’ always released.
Tensing his muscles, General McLean jumped towards the castle as his holographic clock vibrated, alerting him it was time to act.
In other areas explosions, screams and the alarm sounded to start the battle, however, General McLean kept his focus and attention on his target and waved his spear, cutting with his simple strength and dexterity.
A splendid slash spread out, swallowing part of the tower and moving out to sea, splitting the water for a few seconds.
Emanating the fierce presence of an SS-Rank capable of cutting everything in its path, General McLean landed inside the tower and immediately frowned.
The presence he had sensed came from a crystal that replicated the presence of the Somali Terror.
“Where is it?” General McLean asked, breaking through the wall and reaching out to the guards who stood outside, stunned by what had happened.
“W... AHhh...”
Before a Rank A militiaman could say anything, General McLean pierced his stomach and impaled him in the wall with his spear.
“Where is the Somali Terror?” he asked and, looking seriously at the approaching guards, added. “If you do not speak now, you can never utter a word again.”
His voice carried the strength of someone who could cut a castle in half and someone who could murder without hesitation.
He was a member of the military, but General McLean was still the same person as when he joined Zerzura City.
A Great Warlord, who fought for his beliefs and wished to accomplish his goals, no matter the methods.
“Speak or...” He muttered, pulling the spear out of the militiaman who was groaning at the wall.
The spear in his hands was deadly, and the militiaman fell to the ground with part of his stomach ripped open, trying to clutch his stomach, as he groaned and cried out in pain.
Remarkably, he endured and was still alive, although it was not unusual when he was an A-ranked user.
The presence, the smell of blood, and the gaze of General McLean led to the guards encircled, swallowing in fear, realizing that, if they made one false step, they would end up dead.
“The Somali Terror... He... He’s with General Kavuri.” Reported a militiaman, who was trembling with fear.
General McLean’s expression trembled for a moment and, without caring about the look on the militiamen’s faces who were trembling from his powerful aura, he made his way to the balcony of the castle to leave.
Before he could prepare to leave, he noticed in the distance an ancient ship at sea.
A large galleon surrounded by a light gray mist, floating on the sea.
From that ship, he could feel a presence whose strength was similar to his own.
The Somali Pirate made his presence known, causing General McLean’s expression to become solemn.
Even though he didn’t know if the fight would start, as it was very difficult to foresee what a lunatic would do, he had no choice but to stay here.
“I hope they are all right.” General McLean muttered as he watched his soldiers defeat the Somali Terror forces.
******
—What do we do? —Henrik asked through the telepathy network.
Aurora frowned as she looked at the Somali Terror that had arrived.
“I’ve blocked communications, but I’m not sure how long it will last.” Liam quickly informed her to decide.
That dark-skinned man whose scar on his cheek made him look fierce was now comfortably greeting General Kavuri.
An S-Rank... He was present, and the situation became more complicated than he had expected.
With his own A-Rank bodyguards, he made Aurora frown for a moment.
They could not wait, for at any moment the report could come to General Kavuri or the Somali Terror that they were under attack.
The only option left was...
—Let’s continue. Clémentine and Henrik’s group will continue with their work, save and defeat General Kavuri’s forces. As for Akira, Liam and Alice will take care of the Somali Terror, while Oscar and the rest will support them against their bodyguards. I will go after General Kavuri. —Aurora quickly ordered through the telepathy network as a sword appeared at her waist.
“You don’t need to overdo it. I’ll take care of it.” Stopped Alice looking at her calmly.
Was she worried about her sword and her past?
Alice was that kind of person who always supported her and looked to see that she didn’t suffer.
However, if everyone was putting themselves in a dangerous situation, Aurora had no desire to hold back.
—I understand.
—Understood.
Clémentine and Henrik’s acceptance was received, and Aurora gave her sister a smile so she wouldn’t worry.
This was not the worst situation they could find themselves in, and they had some leeway thanks to the S-Ranks present in their group.
—Sumo Priestess Xaali, you give the signal. Have the others prepare for a lightning attack.
They would not be able to stealthily hide as before because of an S-Rank with keen senses being present, however, that did not mean they would lose the element of surprise.
Looking through the small screen of her holographic watch at the High Priestess Xaali who was preparing the ritual, Aurora took a deep breath as she clenched her fists, ready for combat.
High Priestess Xaali’s ritual would lock them all in, preventing anyone inside from escaping by any method.
They had come with the objective of taking charge of General Kavuri and, although the Somali terror had appeared; the aim had not changed.
Rescue hostages and defeat the enemies.
As simple as that.
