The monster steps fully out of the fading dust cloud just as Merin charges toward it.
Its gaze is fixed on the car until it senses him.
The moment their eyes lock, it turns. Slowly. Calmly. As if Merin isn't a threat, just an annoyance approaching.
Merin's shock deepens with every step.
The armour—it isn't scratched. Not even scorched. That missile had only made it take one step back.
Still, Merin doesn't stop. He throws a flurry of strikes the moment he's close, each laced with desperation and speed.
But the monster dodges all of them with minimal motion—tilting, leaning, shifting just enough.
Then it counters.
One kick.
A single, brutal kick slams into Merin's stomach.
Agony explodes through him. Blood spurts from his mouth. His body lifts off the ground and hurls backwards like a broken puppet.
He crashes down hard and rolls across the dirt, gasping, choking on pain.
His hand digs into the ground, trying to steady himself. He looks up through the haze in his eyes.
The monster stands in the same place, calmly watching him, unmoved, unhurried.
Merin tries to stand.
He wants to run.
Every instinct screams to flee—but he can't. He can feel it. The monster's presence holds him, suffocates him. If he turns his back, he'll die.
But fighting it… means the same.
He forces himself upright, swaying, blood dripping from his chin. He glances to the side and sees Black.
Black has just finished off his opponent.
Their eyes meet.
Black nods.
Then he draws his bow, lightning crackling along the limbs, and fires.
One arrow, then another, then another—streaks of lightning aimed straight at the armoured monster.
The monster calmly glances at Black and raises its palm.
A glowing runic circle forms in front of it, ancient symbols pulsing with violet light.
The first arrow hits and disintegrates.
The next two follow, both dissolving into harmless sparks against the glowing circle.
Merin, still doubled over and bleeding, grits his teeth and forces himself to sit. He focuses inward, cycling his true energy, trying to heal even a fraction of the damage.
Meanwhile, the runic circle on the monster's palm hums louder.
A sphere of concentrated purple energy gathers at its centre.
Then it fires.
The blast streaks through the air like a comet.
Black dives aside, shouting a warning.
Jane, who's still battling her grey bone opponent, hears it just in time—she leaps out of the way.
Her opponent isn't so lucky.
The blast hits it square in the chest.
In an instant, the grey bone monster is reduced to ash and flying debris.
Jane stares, jaw clenched, and mutters under her breath—but everyone hears her anyway.
"It's a King Kong Realm monster... we're all dead."
Ben and the spear-wielding bodyguard finish off their own enemies seconds later, but their victory feels hollow.
They look at the armoured monster, and dread crawls over them like frost.
No one moves.
No one breathes.
The bodyguard finally says, voice tight, "Should we escape?"
Ben snaps, "You want to die faster?"
Black growls, "We're going to die anyway."
Merin forces himself to his feet, swaying.
He spits out blood and says, "The difference is now—or when it gets bored and kills us."
Jane's voice is quiet. "Then maybe we take our chances with 'later'... maybe help comes."
Samuel suddenly shouts from behind the car, "One of our cars has an anti-tank gun! If the others make it here, they might bring it!"
Everyone freezes.
Merin turns to him, a flicker of hope in his bloodstained face.
He nods slowly.
"Then we pray," he says. "Pray they come in time."
Because in this fight, none of them—not one—can even scratch that monster.
The air around the armoured monster pulses.
Its bones flare with violet light, and five glowing energy fists materialise above its shoulders.
Then, without a word or roar, they rocket forward—one for each unification realm martial artist.
Merin's eyes narrow. He braces.
He forms an energy palm to meet the incoming strike, but the fist punches clean through it.
The impact lands squarely on his chest.
He's launched backwards, tumbling across the cracked ground—but this time, he doesn't feel any bones break.
Pain, yes—but no serious injury.
He rolls to a stop, coughing, and pushes himself up.
Around him, the others are also getting up—shaken but not crippled.
He meets Ben's eyes. Then Jane's. Then Black's.
They nod.
No words are spoken, but all three understand.
They charge together, leaving the confused bodyguard a beat behind, but then even he joins.
Meanwhile, Merin stands still, focusing inward.
He runs the Blue Light Breathing Technique.
Fire energy floods his core.
Then, he switches.
White Light Breathing Technique.
The moment the Ice true energy starts circulating, it clashes violently with the fire.
Agony explodes in his meridians.
Like his veins are splitting open.
His muscles spasm, but he doesn't stop.
He endures it.
He needs the power.
He needs the moment.
Ahead, the four unification realm fighters clash with the monster, striking in sync—Ben's flame gauntlets, Black's lightning blades, Jane's crashing palms—but the monster dances between them with minimal effort, sidestepping and weaving like a creature playing with children.
Then it moves.
One kick—Jane flies sideways, gasping.
One open-palm strike—the bodyguard's chest caves slightly and he's hurled back like a ragdoll, bones snapping on impact.
Merin's eyes burn with pain—but also resolve.
He can't wait anymore.
This is the only chance they'll get.
He charges, ice and fire crashing inside him as his meridians feel like they're ripping apart.
He roars—and strikes.
The armoured monster kicks toward Black.
But Black, gritting his teeth, lets the kick crash into his gut.
He grunts, blood spraying from his lips—but he grabs the monster's leg with both arms, locking it in place.
"Now!" he shouts, voice shaking.
Merin doesn't hesitate.
The pain in his meridians sharpens as he channels the Iceflame.
He slams his palm forward, directly at the back of the monster's neck, the only spot without armour.
The palm lands.
A pulse of raw, clashing energy erupts.
Merin stumbles back just in time as the explosion detonates, sending a wave of force and dust into the air.
He, Ben, and Black retreat, bracing themselves, waiting—hoping.
But then—
A deep roar bursts from within the smoke.
A surge of violet light follows.
A shockwave ripples out, hurling Merin backwards.
He crashes into the ground, skidding and tumbling, bones aching.
He gasps—his arms are broken.
Every motion sends fire down his nerves, but he grits his teeth and lifts his head.
The dust clears.
The monster still stands.
Still whole.
Maybe hurt—he can't tell—but not down.
Worse, it raises both hands.
Bones twist and form into jagged arrows.
They launch in a flash.
Jane reacts in time—an ice shield rises and deflects the barrage.
But the bodyguard beside her isn't so lucky.
His green flame defence flickers—then dies.
The arrows pierce him clean through, chest and neck, turning him into a bloodied, twitching heap.
He drops without a sound.
Dead.
Merin swallows the lump in his throat and focuses.
He channels his true energy through his shattered arms, forcing the healing to begin.
The monster turns again.
Ben swings, desperate—but the monster is faster.
Its foot slams into Ben's chin—a crack.
Ben flies back.
Before he can recover, the monster steps onto his chest.
Its foot presses down.
Ben screams—but no sound escapes.
Only the crunch of bones breaking.
Merin doesn't move.
Neither do the others.
No one rushes to help Ben.
They all know—it's useless.
They'll be next.
Merin stares at the ground, chest heaving.
This is how it ends.
Reborn into this world after twenty-one years, and he's about to die again.
He won't be able to support his parents in this life.
Won't be able to give his little sister the future she deserves.
They'd spent everything on him—his education, his martial arts training—without asking for anything in return.
And now, when it was finally his turn to give back, he's going to die here.
Crushed like an insect.
The thought strangles him.
He remembers the warmth of their voices, their tired smiles, the weight of love he never had in his last life.
And now, he's going to leave them behind.
Again.
He doesn't even feel the tears slide down his cheek.
Ben's scream rises, raw and blood-curdling.
Then—silence.
Merin lifts his eyes just in time to see the monster's armoured foot slam into Ben's chest.
Ribs cave. Blood spurts.
Then the monster lifts its leg, dragging its gore-covered foot free.
Ben doesn't move.
He never will again.
But the monster still doesn't turn to Merin.
Or to Black. Or Jane.
It turns to them.
To the car.
To Samuel.
To the three lower realm bodyguards.
To Evelyn's cousins.
Samuel sees it.
He raises the missile launcher with shaking hands—aims—and fires.
The missile roars, hits the monster dead-on.
The ground shakes with the explosion.
Flames rise. Smoke swallows everything.
Everyone holds their breath.
But when the dust clears—
The monster stands.
Unburned.
Unmoving.
Unstoppable.
It walks forward—calmly, without haste—toward Samuel, the remaining guards, and the two girls in the car.
Merin stares, frozen.
His legs refuse to move, not from fear, but from certainty.
They're all going to die.
He hears a howl—sharp and wild, echoing through the dead air.
A wolf?
A beast?
Another monster?
Merin doesn't care anymore.
One more enemy won't change the outcome.
He's going to die either way.
Still, he clenches his fists, pain radiating from his broken arms.
Even if he dies, he'll take something from that monster.
A limb. A rib. Anything.
But then, something slams into the armoured monster.
A blur of black and muscle crashes into it, forcing the monster to stagger back half a step.
Merin blinks.
A black-furred, wolf-like creature growls and claws at the bone armour.
Its purple eyes gleam with fury.
"A werewolf…?" Merin murmurs.
Are the monsters fighting each other now?
It doesn't matter.
If the werewolf distracts the bone monster, they might escape.
He nods at Jane and Black.
They begin stepping back—slowly, silently.
Then someone shouts, "Merin!"
He snaps his head around.
Evelyn.
She and another woman rush toward them, carrying weapons and a large black bag.
Samuel and the others are running too, meeting them halfway.
Merin hesitates.
He could escape now.
Disappear while the monster's attention is elsewhere.
But then Evelyn and the woman drop the bag, unzip it—
—and pull out something huge, metallic, and deadly.
His eyes widen.
The anti-tank gun.
Samuel was telling the truth.
Merin exhales sharply, pain twisting through his ribs.
Maybe they have a chance.
Merin runs toward them, pain burning through his body.
Jane and Black see the anti-tank gun and sprint beside him.
As they reach the group, Evelyn wastes no time.
"One of you use the gun," she says. "Shoot the monster."
Merin and Jane exchange a glance, then both turn to Black.
He's the archer.
He's the best shot they have.
Black nods once, already stepping forward.
The woman beside Evelyn says sharply, "You only get one chance. That thing won't give us a second."
Jane asks, "What about the wolf monster?"
Evelyn's eyes hardened. "He'll dodge at my signal."
Merin stares at her, confused. She knows the werewolf?
Black lowers to one knee, steadying the anti-tank gun.
He narrows his eyes at the werewolf still grappling with the armoured monster.
"It's now or never," he mutters.
"I'm shooting."
A soft thump of the trigger.
A puff of smoke from the barrel.
And at that instant—
"Brother!" Evelyn shouts.
Merin's eyes widen. Brother?
The werewolf is her brother?
That means… she knows.
She knows where they are.
She knows what these monsters are.
But there's no time to ask.
The werewolf hears her, leaps sideways, and the warhead whistles through the space he left behind.
Direct hit.
The armour cracks, then shatters.
The missile punches clean through the monster's chest, splinters its spine, and blasts out its back.
The armoured giant stumbles.
Then collapses backwards—
—silent
—motionless
—dead.
For a moment, no one breathes.
Then someone cheers.
Then another.
A grin breaks across Merin's face.
For the first time in hours—
They won.