Chapter 144: The Legend Begins!

Chapter 144: The Legend Begins!

Adrian took slow, deliberate steps toward the approaching level 6 agents, his eyes locked onto Agent Wali with an intensity that made the air around them feel electric. Each step Adrian took radiated an aura of menace, and with each advancing stride, Wali's confidence wavered.

For the first time, Agent Wali—a man known for facing the most fearsome threats with an unshaken resolve—felt his own heart hammer in his chest, betraying the fear creeping through his veins. This wasn't an ordinary battle; this felt like a reckoning. Agent Wali could feel Adrian's stare burning into him and his heart pounded, as he looked at the alien monstrosity.

"Fire!" Agent Wali ordered, his voice barely disguising a tremor. The agents, although equally shaken, but driven by training rather than bravery, raised their weapons and unleashed a storm of bullets. The deafening roar arose dirt and dust, the cacophony of gunfire echoing in the barren field, but Adrian didn't falter.

He raised his hands, palms open, where a fierce golden light gathered, pulsing with power. It was as if he was drawing strength directly from the sun itself, wielding it like a weapon crafted for vengeance. Where his speed couldn't carry him, his solar beams would.

With a quick thrust of his hands, Adrian unleashed a blinding beam of solar energy that tore through the air like a lance of pure light. Agent Wali's survival instincts took over, and he grabbed the nearest agent, shoving him forward as a shield. The unfortunate agent barely had time to scream before the searing beam carved straight through his chest, leaving a smoldering hole and his body collapsed into a charred heap.

Adrian continued advancing, relentless, as the remaining agents scattered, desperation in their eyes. Anyone in Adrian's advancing path was turned to ashes before they could scream. His focus was on firmly placed on Agent Wali, as if his actions were saying; "I wouldn't rest until I have killed him".

Wali attempted to retreat, but Adrian's second beam was already barreling towards him, too fast to avoid. Agent Wali barely had time to react before the second beam struck forcefully.

It struck his shoulder, slicing through bone and sinew as if tearing through paper. The searing force of the beam affected the surrounding agents, especially some who stood too close, cutting through flesh and bone as if it were nothing.

A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped Wali as blood spurted from the wound, staining his uniform and the ground below.

Barely able to think through and process the haze of pain, Wali staggered, clutching at his shoulder, but Adrian's fury wasn't yet sated. With cold precision, Adrian summoned a final surge of solar energy, his gaze unwavering as he aimed. Wali's eyes widened in horror as he saw the glint of ruthless determination in Adrian's face—He knew there would be no mercy here.

The solar beam struck his skull in that instant, he knew he was facing something far beyond his comprehension. Agent Wali's skull shattered with brutal precision and he crumbled lifelessly to the ground.

Agent Wali lay dead, his body a testament to Adrian's raw, unleashed power and drive for vengeance.

Adrian, having achieved his goal, took one last staggering step before his body gave out, collapsing unconscious on the ground.

His fall did not bring any relief to the six remaining agents who had survived by a thread. They exchanged horrified glances, realizing that even with Adrian incapacitated, their supposed victory was hollow.

This boy-who they had scorned as a mere "poster boy"-had singlehandedly reduced a six unit group of 240 men to just six. 'What kind of demon is this?'

Fear gnawed at them, and doubt clouded their minds. What chance did they stand if someone like Adrian had decimated their ranks so thoroughly? And what if, as rumors suggested, the Moon Goddess herself were to intervene? A chill passed through them, the gravity of their situation finally dawning.

Back at the base, before their march to Riverdale city, whispers had circulated, questioning why a higher class of agents hadn't been assigned. Perhaps Rhemon, their enigmatic leader, had planned it this way, deeming this group of 6 units disposable rather than risking his level 3 agents.

The implications were terrifying, but the calculation was cold and efficient. As the surviving agents stood in uneasy silence, a figure materialized from the shadows, his tall frame cutting an imposing silhouette.

He moved with a predatory grace, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Agents followed him, moving like a disciplined swarm of bees, and the mere sight of him sent a wave of apprehension through the remaining men.

"Lord Rhemon," they gasped in unison, their voices low with awe and respect as they bowed.

Rhemon's gaze swept over the scene, lingering briefly on Adrian's unconscious form.

"You did well,"' he said with a tone that bordered on mocking approval.

"Now, pick him up.. and let's go."

He motioned to Adrian's body, and with a flick of his wrist, summoned a sleek hovercraft, which descended from the sky as if it had been waiting for his command. The agents gathered, some lifting Adrian's limp form, and they filed into the hovercraft.

The fleet of hovercrafts, each able to carry up to 200 men, hovered in formation, ready to depart. With a silent command from Rhemon, they lifted off, leaving behind the desolate battlefield where the ground still bore scars of Adrian's power.

The six survivors sat together silently in the hovercraft, while surrounded by the new agents that came with Rhemon. They were haunted by the carnage they had narrowly escaped. The memories of this day would scar them forever—a day that felt like a descent into a nightmare. It was the day they encountered Adrian East and Nyala, an encounter that turned into a massacre.

Nyala had struck first, dismantling their ranks with brutal efficiency. But it was Adrian who left them truly shaken. He had obliterated their forces almost single-handedly, tearing through the enemy lines with a ruthless precision that was both awe-inspiring and horrifying.

Their leader had fallen under his onslaught, the once-formidable figure now reduced to a chilling memory. They had come prepared—240 soldiers, armed with salt bullets, specially crafted to exploit Adrian's rumored weakness. Yet, even with this advantage, they barely stood a chance. A sobering thought wormed its way into their minds: if not for the salt bullets, would they have been entirely annihilated? How unstoppable was Adrian?

Adrian wielded the power of the sun itself. In the midst of battle, he was a blazing, radiant beast—a creature born from the depths of the underworld, cloaked in searing light and unyielding fury. His form shimmered with a terrifying beauty, like a star brought to earth. Each movement seemed to radiate an infernal energy, an overwhelming force that left no room for mercy. He was a living weapon, a nightmare incarnate.