Unholy Player
Chapter 210: Combination

Chapter 210: Combination

Adyr stood at the center of a shallow crater as heavy rain hammered the battlefield, each drop striking with sharp, metallic rhythm. The storm poured down on him, soaking his tactical gear and turning the cracked soil beneath his boots into dark, shifting mud. Yet the crater at his feet wasn’t the product of an uncontrolled impact. It was shaped by intent.

Moments before touching down, he had triggered Burst Hop, a kinetic skill from his Pulse Hopper Spark. With a sharp kick midair, he directed the remaining momentum downward, dispersing the force through the ground rather than absorbing it himself. The result was a fractured ring of earth around him, shallow but wide, already filling with rainwater.

Even with his elevated [Resilience] and [Physique], a fall from that height would have caused serious damage. But thanks to the perfectly timed skill, he landed with controlled force, unharmed, balanced, and calm.

He lifted his head, scanning his surroundings with a cold, unreadable expression. His voice was a quiet murmur, almost thoughtful.

"So, it works like this, too."

Hundreds of mutants surrounded him, grotesque and twisted creatures that had been seconds away from lunging at him. Now, they stood frozen. Not a single one moved. Their limbs trembled, their bodies locked in place as if an invisible weight held them down.

A thick, black aura rolled off Adyr’s body like smoke, coiling through the air and blanketing the battlefield in oppressive silence. It wasn’t just a visual effect—it was the fusion of two powers: Presence and Malice.

He had unleashed his Presence, laced with bloodlust, like a predator baring its soul to the weak. But with Malice woven into it, the effect transformed. The dark energy seeped into the aura like venom, corrupting it into something more than fear—something primal, instinctive. It felt as though hell itself had cracked open beneath his feet and was bleeding through his skin.

Though the outcome of the fusion was flawless, a faint frown appeared on Adyr’s face.

"We can’t go on like this," he muttered.

As he began to withdraw his Presence, the oppressive aura—now tainted by Malice—receded. In an instant, the invisible weight that had paralyzed the mutants vanished, releasing them from the grip of fear.

Adyr had come to this battlefield with two clear objectives. First, to loot the energy crystals and replenish his diminishing reserves. Second, to hone his talents through live combat. But if every enemy collapsed under pressure without even lifting a claw, that second goal would be left unmet. He needed them to fight, not freeze.

As the suffocating pressure faded, the trembling in the mutants’ limbs began to subside. Slowly, spasms gave way to tense stillness. It was as if they were waking from a nightmare, blinking through the rain, confused but regaining their motor control. One by one, they twitched, shook their heads, and flexed their grotesque limbs. The creaking of their thick carapaces joined the steady patter of rainfall, echoing across the ruined field.

Eventually, their pitch-black eyes locked onto Adyr. Empty and emotionless. Yet none of them moved. They simply stared, frozen again—this time not by fear, but by hesitation. The fear had touched something deeper than flesh. It had reached whatever remained of their instincts.

Adyr clicked his tongue, watching them with detached amusement. "Looks like you need a little provocation."

With a faint chuckle, he drew his blade, the pitch-black metal absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. Rain slid down its matte surface as he stepped forward, calm and deliberate, closing the distance to the nearest mutant.

If they refused to make the first move, he would. After all, standing still was just another way to die, and at some point, they would have to fight back. At least, that was what Adyr wanted.

—

"What the hell is this?"

Standing atop the high walls of Shelter City 8, one of the players muttered in disbelief.

Just moments ago, they had witnessed a lone figure fall from the hoverjet, descending from an impossible height with a thunderous crash. The impact shook the ground, and dust burst outward in all directions. Everyone watching had assumed the person was dead.

But then, through the smoke and rain, they saw him—

A dark silhouette standing tall at the center of a crater, completely unharmed, calmly surveying his surroundings as if nothing had happened.

There was no time to process the shock or even be fascinated. Within seconds, hundreds of mutants surged toward the crater, swarming the figure from all sides.

And just when it seemed inevitable that the lone man would be torn apart, a black mist erupted from his body, expanding outward in waves. It swallowed the battlefield in seconds. What happened next defied all logic.

The mindless, bloodthirsty creatures stopped. Every last one of them froze in place, as if chained by an unseen force. Limbs trembled, claws clenched midair, but not a single one moved.

Yet even that wasn’t the most shocking part.

The aura radiating from Adyr didn’t just paralyze the creatures around him. It stretched far beyond the crater, coating the entire battlefield in a suffocating pressure that seemed to weigh down the very air.

From her vantage point on the wall, Evangeline stared down with wide, stunned eyes. Rain dripped from her lashes as she whispered, almost breathless.

"What kind of power is this?"

Below her, the mutants that had been clawing at the walls only seconds ago were now motionless. Sharp fingers still embedded in stone, bodies trembling. Like frightened children flashing back from instinct to terror every time the lightning cracked across the sky.

"He is the strongest player we currently have in the world," the Defense Minister said, watching through a pair of binoculars. Even though he himself was a mutant, his vision wasn’t as refined as that of a player.

There was a hint of disbelief in his voice—he had read Henry’s report, but even he hadn’t expected this.

Gazing at the lone figure calmly standing among the very mutants that had terrorized the city just moments ago, like a grim reaper in the eye of the storm, the Minister allowed himself a faint smile. "This is the current pinnacle of third-generation mutants."

At the Defense Minister’s words, Evangeline turned her gaze back to the figure below. She was still in disbelief.

She was a player herself, one of the more promising ones—or so she had thought. In the other world, she had fought hard, risen fast, and believed she was closing in on the top. Maybe not number one yet, but not far behind.

But now, watching the overwhelming display of power unfold before her eyes, she realized just how wrong she had been.

"I gave everything I had. I nearly died more times than I can count... and still..."

Her jaw clenched, and a bitter pressure swelled in her chest. She gritted her teeth, unable to shake the crushing sense of inadequacy.

Then, just as she began to spiral into grief and helplessness, a sudden sound pulled her attention upward.

Above the city walls, a low hum rolled through the sky. Cutting through the rain and mist, a sleek black hoverjet hovered just above the battlefield. Its engines pulsed with a soft red glow, dispersing the storm around it in waves of heat and noise. Panels slid open on its side, revealing reinforced glass that gleamed under flashes of lightning.

Inside, standing near the open hatch, a familiar figure came into view.

Evangeline’s crimson eyes widened.

A young woman with the same red hair and matching eyes waved casually at her from the hoverjet, a playful grin on her face.

"Hey! Isn’t this cousin Eva? Been a while, huh?"