E-Rank or SSS-Rank: I Awakened a Skill That Shouldn't Exist
Chapter 159: Ronan is captured.

Chapter 159: Ronan is captured.

Chapter 159

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Cries of gratitude echoed through the air as the people looked up at the figure floating calmly above them. Some had tears streaming down their faces, others simply looked relieved—but all of them shared one thing: overwhelming joy. They had survived. After resigning themselves to death alongside their city, they were still alive.

Han watched them with a gentle smile.

It wasn’t the appreciation that warmed his heart—it was the joy on their faces. The happiness that came from being given another chance at life. This... this is what I wanted. Not power. Not fame. Just the ability to protect.

This feeling—this was what it meant to be a hero.

For a moment, he allowed himself that peace.

But in truth, he wasn’t the one who had saved everyone. It was Lightrunner. The cheerful, unshakable veteran had done most of the heavy lifting. Most of them had only survived thanks to him.

The image of Lightrunner flashed through Han’s mind—a man well into his sixties, maybe even his early seventies, yet with the appearance of someone barely in their mid-twenties. His face always bore that familiar, boyish grin—carefree, energetic, almost out of place for someone of his age and power. But that was Lightrunner: a true hero, one Han had admired for most of his life. And today, they’d stood shoulder to shoulder—not as mentor and student, but as comrades. Equals. Even if the battlefield wasn’t the place Han had imagined that moment would happen... it had still meant everything.

"Damn curses..." Han muttered under his breath. He activated Eagle Eye and looked out at the horizon. The ruins of Maurina City were barely visible—just scattered rubble, the last remnants of a once-thriving place.

He exhaled deeply. This has to end.

The cursed—whatever their origin—had caused enough devastation. If they weren’t stopped soon, the entire world might fall.

With one last look at the people below, Han turned and soared into the sky, heading toward Serenya.

---

About an hour later, Han arrived at Serenya. After a quick verification of his identity, the gates opened without delay.

He didn’t waste time. The first thing he did was check on everyone who had followed him to the tournament. He went from household to household, ensuring every one of them had returned safely. Thankfully, they had.

Then, he checked in on his siblings.

They were all fine—though Laura had clearly overexerted herself. Her Freeze ability had pushed her body too far. Han had analyzed it before; it was undoubtedly an S-rank skill. But Laura was an Original—her powers were pure and untamed. Unlike refined Awakeners, Originals often couldn’t fully control their abilities. Some effects were beneficial, others... not so much.

Laura didn’t have much combat experience—Han had made sure of that—and her lack of practical training had led to temporary frost damage from overusing her ability.

Mia had examined her and assured Han she’d recover within the hour.

Relieved, Han nodded to himself. He considered going to find Nathan to ask about the Phase Nova progress, but a message from Clara had changed his plans. She needed to see him at the Tryst Guild—and it sounded urgent.

Without wasting another second, Han flew across the city.

When he entered the Tryst Guild headquarters, he went straight to the command room at the top of the building. To his surprise, everyone was already gathered—Clara, Aiden, Silver, Bron, Shae, and the rest of the high-ranking guild leaders.

But two faces were missing.

Ron and Ronan.

Han took the top seat reserved for him, his expression calm but his senses alert. One glance at the grim faces surrounding the room told him everything—whatever news awaited him, it wasn’t good.

For nearly two minutes, silence reigned.

No one spoke.

Finally, Clara let out a sigh and rose to her feet. If no one else would speak, it would have to be her.

"You’ve probably already guessed," she began, her voice steady but weary. "The news I bring isn’t good."

Han gave a slight nod. He had his suspicions.

"Who?" he asked simply, his eyes moving between Aiden and Clara, though his question was clear—Ronan or Ron?

Clara’s expression softened slightly as she responded. "Not Ron. He’s fine. Actually... he’s in the next city, spending some quiet time with his wife. I didn’t want to drag him into this." A small smile tugged at her lips. "He deserves that peace. He’s going to be a father soon."

Han exhaled in quiet relief. That was good news at least.

But then Clara’s gaze sharpened as her voice turned heavier. "It’s about Ronan."

Han blinked, confused. Ronan? That didn’t make sense.

Ronan was strong—strong enough that Han had never doubted he could escape Maurina alive, even amidst the chaos. The only way he wouldn’t... would be if he had died.

And yet, even that felt improbable.

Ronan wasn’t just any fighter. With his Switch skill, he was a nightmare to deal with—nearly impossible to pin down or predict. Only a handful of people could truly match him in raw ability.

Han’s thoughts raced. Buster? It was possible. If Ronan had encountered Buster during the retreat, the battle could have gone either way. Han didn’t know Buster’s full strength, but he had always suspected the man was stronger than Ronan—though not by a wide margin.

But there was another possibility—one that made Han’s chest tighten.

What if he faced another Dark Emissary?

Striker had been one of the most difficult opponents Han had ever encountered. Even with the advantage, Han had never managed to overwhelm him. If Ronan had gone up against someone like that, the outcome could have been disastrous.

"Don’t spiral," Clara said gently, cutting through his storming thoughts. She could see the tension etched in his face. "Ronan’s alive."

Han’s shoulders eased a little, a quiet breath slipping out.

But Clara wasn’t finished.

"He’s alive," she repeated, "but... he’s been confined by ARC."

Han’s relief stalled. His eyes narrowed. Confined?

Then it clicked.

Ronan—tagged as The Exterminator—was considered one of the most wanted men in the world. Despite most of the accusations being falsified, his reputation among the high-ranking guilds was infamously dark. Han had investigated those charges himself and knew the truth.

But public image mattered.

And now ARC had him.

ARC wasn’t just any prison—it was the most secure containment facility in the world. The fact that Ronan had escaped from it once already was seen as a joke by some and a miracle by others. Getting in was hard. Getting out? Nearly impossible.

But Clara’s voice wasn’t done cutting into the silence.

"That’s not all," she said, her tone sharper now.

Everyone in the room instinctively braced themselves.

"Ronan killed Buster."

A heavy silence fell over the command room. Even the top guild members, unaware of this part until now, froze in shock.

An S-Class Hero—dead.

The implications would be enormous. Global. Catastrophic, even.

"Wait... Ronan killed a Class S Hero?" Shae asked, wide-eyed. "How strong was he?"

The rest of the room echoed her disbelief with nods and murmurs. Ronan killing an S-Class? It sounded almost unreal—like a rumor twisted too far.

Clara, however, remained focused. "That’s not the biggest problem," she said sharply, cutting through the shock.

The room stilled.

"I managed to uncover this through certain... connections," she continued. "But the real danger now is time. Once the Lead Enforcer notifies the other Class S Heroes, there’s an eighty percent chance Ronan will be executed before the truth even surfaces."

A cold silence followed.

Han’s expression darkened with each word Clara spoke. The weight of the situation pressed down on everyone like a suffocating fog. They had no time. They had no options.

But they still had each other.

Han stood, his voice calm but firm. "We’re getting him out."

Everyone turned to him.

"Clara, Aiden—you’re coming with me. The rest of you stay and protect Serenya. If ARC decides to retaliate, we can’t leave the city defenseless."

There was no debate.

ARC was a fortress. A prison said to be unbreakable. But if they wanted to save Ronan, they would have to attempt the impossible.

---

Meanwhile, far beyond Serenya...

A mid-sized warship cruised silently through the skies. Its engines hummed with quiet menace—neither rushing nor crawling, just moving with purpose.

Near one of its massive observation windows stood a tall man clad in black armor. His stance was calm, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if he could already see the blood that was about to be spilled.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The repetitive noise broke the silence. The armored man’s brow twitched in irritation.

He turned his head slowly, revealing a glowing third eye on his forehead—fierce, golden, and seething with restrained power.

The source of the noise? A man with ash-gray hair and a mischievous grin, casually twirling a metal rod like it was a toy.

He met the deadly gaze without flinching. In fact, he chuckled.

"Relax, Freak Eye," he said, standing up and slinging an arm over the other man’s shoulder.

The third eye flared hotter. The man quickly shrugged him off with a low growl.

"Metallo, one day I’ll rip that mouth off your face," Freak Eye muttered.

Metallo just laughed. "C’mon, man. Lighten up."

He shrugged again, this time facing the observation window beside Freak Eye. "Still, it is wild, isn’t it? That Tryst Guild must’ve really pissed Drake off. Over twenty Red Vanguard Elites... two Dark Emissaries... all for one guild?"

He let out a low whistle.

"And with your kill count," he added with a smirk, "I almost feel sorry for them."

Behind them, a formation of elite soldiers in red armor stood ready—silent, disciplined, and deadly.

The storm was coming.

---

To be continued...

The Cursed have made their move.

The Tryst Guild is marked for extinction. With Serenya in the crossfire and Han preparing to leave on a mission that borders on suicide, the stakes have never been higher. Can they save Ronan before it’s too late? Or will Serenya burn in their absence?

Fate hangs in the balance.

---

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