21 Chapter 21 - Total Extermination
Chapter 21 - Total Extermination
Hearing what the person said in horror as he struggled to make his way back into the inn, Maxmillan groaned and said, "I wish I had a bomb. I will definitely level the inn to the ground along with you damned morons in it. Ugh!"
However, the weight of his own words struck him like a sudden revelation. Amidst the seething frustration, a realization dawned on him. He still possessed fifty points left.
"Can I buy a grenade with that?" Maxmillan's inquiry carried a ponderous gaze, his eyes reflecting the tumultuous thoughts within.
In the next instant, an affirmative nod followed, accompanied by an inward resolve that manifested in the fierce, cold glint of his intense blue eyes. "I should be able to."
"Menu." He said.
Once the System Menu displayed in Maxmillan's vision, he neurally clicked on [Item Market/Purchase Store].
Then he neurally clicked on [Miscellaneous Item], where he came across an array of items.
His gaze swiftly traced the contents listed, a cascade of options that beckoned with untold potential.
Drawn to intrigue, he navigated with neural precision from page 1 to page 4, where a peculiar entry awaited—[Grenade].
The virtual interface responded to his neural command, seamlessly opening a 100-page tab where large numbers of potent grenade options could be seen.
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[Grenade]
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[Page 1 of 100]
[Showing 5 entries]
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[Advanced Explosive Grenade]
[Advanced Flashbang Grenade]
[Sensory Disorientation Grenade]
[Timed Explosive Dual Grenade Ensemble]
[Timed Explosive Quad-Grenade Pack]
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[Return to Menu] / [Return to Directory Menu]
[Next Page]
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Rapidly scanning the comprehensive list, Maxmillan's eyes later locked onto the entry for the Advanced Explosive Grenade.
A surge of determination flickered in his intense blue eyes as he acknowledged the constraints of his limited purchase points.
The other really formidable grenades, tantalizing in their destructive potential and far-reaching devastating effects, remained out of the reach of his purchasing power, prompting him to make a pragmatic decision.
With a decisive click, he selected the Advanced Explosive Grenade.
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[Advanced Explosive Grenade]
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[Purchase Cost: 50 Points]
[Available Point: 50 Points]
[Purchase Item: [Yes]/[No]
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[Return to Menu] / [Return to Directory Menu]
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"Yes," Maxmillan hastily declared.
In an instant, the Supreme Battle-Technology System responded to his command, materializing the Advanced Explosive Grenade in his waiting right hand.
With the unhesitating press of his thumb on the detonating button of the grenade, he activated the grenade with a swift, determined motion. Time hung in suspense as he hurled the potent, deadly payload with an unprecedented force.
The grenade traced an arc through the air like a fleeting silver streak and landed within the inn before its large, magically-enchanted doors could be tightly sealed.
BOOM!!!
A deafening blast reverberated through the inn, shattering the oppressive silence that had clung to the air.
The thugs, once a menacing presence, were now engulfed in a cataclysmic inferno, their figures instantly transforming into charred remnants scattered like morbid confetti across the marbled floor.
The acrid scent of burning flesh permeated the air, while the once opulent inn's atmosphere was now tainted with the stench of destruction.
As the flames roared in a mesmerizing dance, licking hungrily at the remnants of the thugs, the inn's elegant facade succumbed to the violent forces at play.
Millions of cracks could be seen on the once-pristine marbled ground, a stark testament to the sheer force of the explosive event that occurred.
As for the inn—once a sanctuary, now stood as a fractured monument to the brutal combination of intense ravaging fire and destructive force.
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[System Notification!]
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[Host has successfully completed 1/5 of the Prompt Mission: Thug Extermination; The Grim Reaper]
[Host has been rewarded with 509 points!]
[Host has unlocked Side Quest Log]
[Host has unlocked Funds Vault]
[Time left for expiration of mission: 2 months; 2 weeks; 6 days]
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Maxmillan's eyes, once ablaze with an ominous malevolence, softened as they absorbed the content of the notification.
The shift in Maxmillan's expression was palpable, a vivid testament to the profound impact of the message he had just consumed.
"I am slowly getting there," he whispered with a sly grin, the words dripping like venom from his lips. His eyes, glinting with a predatory gleam, scanned the horizon, plotting the acquisition of more weapons. The air seemed to thicken with the promise of impending power.
His smile, initially a mere flicker, now stretched across his face, a crescent of anticipation. It became a hungry accomplice to his ambitions, revealing a glimpse of the thrill that coursed through his veins. While a palpable aura of excitement enveloped him like an invisible cloak. It wrapped around him, a whirlwind of anticipation that whispered promises of conquest, glory and domination.
But as reality clawed back into his consciousness, he found himself standing before the aftermath. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of burning remnants, a testament to the havoc he had unapologetically unleashed upon the surroundings.
A shiver of awareness crawled down his spine as he acknowledged the imminent arrival of Law Enforcement authorities. With a quickened pulse, he surveyed the scene, his eyes darting like a hunted prey seeking escape routes.
Casting a final, remorseless gaze upon the chaos he birthed, a tableau of destruction etched into the fabric of the once-serene surroundings, he said with an urgent tone, "I must swiftly vanish from here before some sick-ass master of malevolent magic descends upon this place to unleash wrath upon me."
Just as he prepared to depart, a figure emerged—seemingly aged around thirty, emanating an awe-inspiring, dazzlingly resplendent aura. His towering presence commanded attention, with a brilliance that hinted at divinely wielded power and unmatched might. Hovering many meters above the ground, he spoke from the inn's collapsed rooftop, surrounded by an ethereal coldness that evoked frostbite on the very air. His words thundered with exceeding wrath, each syllable ladened with the weight of unspoken history.
"Who are you?" The question echoed through the tense atmosphere, its resonance freezing hundreds of onlookers. Initially pleasantly surprised by Maxmillan's combat prowess and savage decisiveness, they were now petrified in their tracks, overwhelmed by the blood-roiling power emanating from the levitating, blindingly radiant silhouette. The air crackled with anticipation as the mysterious figure confronted Maxmillan, demanding answers that seemed to carry the weight of impending judgment.
"Oh. Are you the owner of the inn, if I may ask?" Maxmillan's fearless inquiry cut through the charged air like a blade, his voice carrying an assertive cadence that dared challenge the ominous figure.
"No, it is not mine," the enigmatic presence retorted, the words dripping with lordly aloofness. "But that of a sworn brother who is currently in meditative isolation."
Shadowy enigmas danced across his face, accentuating the mysterious, tyrannical aura that cloaked him. "However, I do enjoy the money that flows from the unbridled activities of the thugs into my vault."
"But now that you have destroyed it, you have blocked that channel." The stranger, visibly surprised at Maxmillan's audacity, responded with a wrathful undertone, the very timbre of his voice resonating with the promise of impending chaos. As tension coiled in the air, he poised himself for a devastating attack, a tempest of power ready to unleash and awe the entire city in its wake.
Undeterred, Maxmillan responded astutely, "Oh. But I am not sorry that I destroyed it. Good riddance to the villainous thugs and their nest of criminal activities. I hope they receive fitting punishment in the underworld."
"Hmm. Just who are you? And what do you mean by your statement? Why did you ensure the elimination of everyone within the inn? How have they offended you? I would like to know before I turn you and everything within ten feet around you to dust!" The person, adorned in a thick crimson robe embroidered with seven small stars circling around a large purple star, asked with great indignation in his tone.
In the tense standoff, Maxmillan's words sliced through the charged air like a dagger, each syllable echoing with an undercurrent of defiance. "Well, just carrying out an important mission. So, it's none of your business. And as a word of advice, do look away and return to where you came from."
A daring challenge hung between them, suspended in the air like an unspoken spell. Maxmillan continued, his voice steady and unfaltering, "Unless you really want to get killed by me, then you can come down here to face me. But I promise you, you will die a ghastly death and join the people in this inn in the bleak, forlorn, and fiery underworld that I sent them to!"
Despite his confident facade, Maxmillan harbored a silent acknowledgment of the formidable magic wielder before him. He understood that this adversary, draped in a thick crimson robe adorned with stars, possessed a power that far surpassed the limitations of his current weaponry—low in firepower, penetration capacity, and destructiveness
The man's vicious smile crept across his face like a malevolent shadow, replacing the earlier indignant expression. "Hmm. That's bold of you to say. Do you know who I am?" he asked, the edges of his words sharpened with a subtle threat.
Maxmillan, undeterred, replied with speculative confidence, "Well, Lord of Seven Stars."
The man's brows furrowed deeply as he scrutinized Maxmillan, attempting to pierce through the rubber mask that concealed his identity. His gaze, like probing daggers, sought to unveil the face behind the fearless, indifferent words.
Despite the man's intense scrutiny, Maxmillan remained an enigma, his features concealed by the rubber mask. The man eventually ceased his fruitless endeavor, leaving Maxmillan marveling at the overwhelming intensity of the gaze he had just endured.
"Well, you are surprisingly right, youngster." The robed man's words hung in the air like a revelation, his eyes gleaming with amazement in the endless sunlight.
In the glow of self-praise, he continued with a tone that dripped with a sense of distinction, "I am the unpopular and solitary founder of Seven Stars Institute. I exist in the shadows, unknown to the world, for I find no joy in building fame or obtaining popularity. Such pursuits hold no interest for me."
A regal pride colored his next words, "My elite legacy students refer to me as the Constellation Lord of Seven Stars, or Seven Stars Crimson Lord, which you guessed almost correctly. So, I will give you an acknowledging nod."
The sunlight seemed to dance off the embroidered stars on his crimson robe as he spoke, casting a scintillating celestial aura around his floating, mysterious figure, affirming Maxmillan's discernment.
The man's revelation reverberated through the air, his words cutting through the lingering tension. "Furthermore, I am the kind of person who will plunge hands into any stream that promises a cascade of wealth or treasures. Just like this inn that you destroyed—a mere investment for me."
A wry smile curled on his lips as he continued, "Anyway, before I digress farther from my main point, let me emphasize that for a pretty-skilled, average user of Astra Mystralis like yourself to address an Astra Spellcraft Lord in such a brazenly rude manner is astonishingly bold. Although I appreciate boldness, it's not the foolhardy bravado that you just displayed, which will definitely leave you riddled with countless bleeding holes, festering incisions and eruptive gashes. Haha!" The air seemed to thicken with the unspoken challenge, and the robed figure's laughter echoed with a blend of amusement and subtle mockery.
"So, as your punishment for blocking one of my remittance channels, then for your unbridled utterances towards me, I will take you with me to my small underground institute where I will refine you." The ominous decree hung heavy in the air, each word pronounced with a chilling authority that sent shivers through the atmosphere.
A spectral gloom seemed to envelop the scene, casting ominous shadows that danced in macabre patterns as the Seven Stars Crimson Lord continued, "I will help you shed off your layers of crudeness and polish you into a magnificently civilized person—a puppet that obeys all instructions and follows all orders. But if I am not fully satisfied after all that, I could reduce you to countless bloody splinters of decomposing flesh and withering bones, a morbid offering to my corpse-devouring, rot-loving pet!"
Then, as if the very fabric of existence bowed to an unseen force, all of a sudden, without the Seven Stars Crimson Lord lifting a finger, tens of thousands of feet around Maxmillan became stagnant, frozen both in space and time. A transparent colossal sphere materialized, radiating an unknown mystical power of epic proportions. It manifested with a breathtaking suddenness, causing a part of the vast blue sky directly above it to surrender, becoming cloudless and transforming its hue into an ominous shade.
The colossal sphere enveloped Maxmillan's figure, an unbreakable translucent shield that seemed to distort the air around it, endlessly warping the rays of sunlight that shone upon it. The ambient air crackled like electricity with the residual energy of this mystical force, while the ground below it developed thousand-feet-wide web cracks that extended for thousands of feet into the distance.
The sudden change in the sky cast a shocking and terrifying eerie glow on the city, seeming as if reality itself had momentarily surrendered to the emergence of an ancient and profound, arcane power.
