Balling’s voice boomed, flamboyant as ever:

  “Alright my challengers, my sweet little viewers! The moment you all been waitin’ for is finally here. LET—THE—GAME—BEGIN!”

  The horn of chaos had sounded.

  Valerius and his squad launched forward, tearing across the land at Mach 5. Even Mr. Baby, with his stubby legs, kept up effortlessly, his tiny frame slicing through the wind like a cannonball.

  At first, the attack team thought this phase would be like all the others—fast, bloody, decisive. But today… today would be remembered forever. Because today, new catastrophes were about to be born.

  Valerius glanced at the horizon. “The other teams are already moving. Let’s hope Eryndor and the others can defend the flag.”

  Irisa’s eyes narrowed. “This won’t be easy.”

  Valerius smirked. “Maybe not. But I’m stronger than I was yesterday.”

  Irisa scoffed. “Stronger? Don’t kid yourself.”

  Before Valerius could answer, a laugh shook the air like rolling drums.

  “Yow! Stop di bickering, mon!” Mr. Baby cackled, his gold eyes gleaming. “Is time fi rumble!”

  And then—he leapt.

  The baby shot into the heavens at Mach 200, his woolly white hair whipping violently in the sonic boom.

  “YOU DAMN BABY!” Valerius roared from below. “Stick together!”

  But Mr. Baby wasn’t listening. His menacing grin widened. He stretched his tiny hand downward—and the world itself shifted.

  Ninety kilometers of land vanished from the ground.

  The stolen earth reappeared instantly above the enemy fortress like a suspended mountain.

  Mr. Baby threw his head back. “Gimme your power!”

  He snapped his arms through the air, clawing invisible threads.

  “Snatch! Snatch! Snatch, snatch, SNAAAATCH!”

  Panic erupted below.

  The fortress defenders gasped as their strength bled out of their bodies. “What—what’s happening?!” one shouted.

  “My power—it’s fading!” another cried.

  From the sky, Mr. Baby’s voice thundered again.

  “Snaaatch! Snatch! All of it mine!”

  Then, with a final heave, he swung his tiny arms back and exhaled.

  “Piiiiiiile!”

  The stolen mountain of earth began its deadly descent, crashing toward the fortress. Mr. Baby tucked in and launched forward at Mach 200, using the stolen power to propel himself like a comet.

  But the defenders were ready.

  On the fortress dome stood an Aurellian, his massive sword glinting with Bravo might. With one swing, he split the falling landmass into fragments, the air screaming with the force. Then, stabbing the sky, he unleashed three slashes of Bravo that tore through the heavens toward the flying baby.

  Mr. Baby only laughed. “Too slow, mon!”

  He unleashed the stolen energy as jet bursts, darting through the air like lightning, dodging all three strikes. With his short sword, he countered—flinging a surge of stolen power that cleaved open a 20km stone wall, carving a gap wide enough to enter.

  “Oi, don’t run off alone, you little idiot!”

  Valerius blasted through the gap behind him, teeth clenched.

  The two of them tore into the enemy fortress—but another wall rose in their path. They slammed into it and fell to the ground, stone cratering outward.

  “Fortis…” Valerius muttered, rubbing his nose.

  Before he could regroup, an arrow screamed through the air. Irisa appeared in a blur, her boot crashing into it mid-flight, sending shards of energy scattering. She landed hard, carving a trench in the fortified ground.

  “There’s an archer!” she barked.

  Another arrow ripped the air. Valerius ducked instinctively—but when the arrow skimmed his cheek, his skin turned green with a metallic shimmer. The arrow ricocheted off his flesh, and the recoil sent him skidding back hundreds of meters, carving trenches with his boots.

  “What the hell?!” he growled. “I dodged that—”

  Another arrow cut toward him from the front. Valerius leaned aside—dodged clean—

  BOOM.

  The arrow bent in midair, curving like a predator, and smashed into his ribs. Again, his body rang with a metallic clang, launching him sideways nearly a kilometre.

  “This is wrong…” Valerius realized, Sentinel Bravo igniting. And then he felt it. The arrows weren’t straight—they were curving through the air, bending, homing like serpents.

  “Oooh… so that’s the trick.”

  The next arrow screamed toward his temple. Valerius caught it mid-flight, his left hand clamping down. The fortified ground cracked 10 meters deep beneath him.

  “That won’t work anymore,” he said coldly. “I know your trick now.”

  He yanked the arrow’s shaft, coiled the air itself like a bowstring, and let it snap. The arrow spun back toward its master, piercing through the archer’s stomach and exploding out his back.

  Valerius surged forward, his entire body flashing green with Fortis. Walls shattered before him one after another—until the castle stood just thirty kilometers away.

  He cocked his arm for a devastating blow—

  BOOM!

  Two massive, furred feet slammed into the side of his head. Gray fur, black claws, overwhelming power.

  The impact was cataclysmic.

  A 40km-wide crater opened instantly. The land shattered as Valerius was hurled through walls and terrain, tumbling helplessly for nearly 400 kilometers before he jammed a hand into the ground fortifying it, grinding to a stop.

  Blood dripped from his nose.

  “Uuugh…” He staggered upright, wiping it. “Hhh… damn.”

  The real fight had begun.

  Valerius spat blood and snarled, “The heck?”

  He launched back toward the fortress, blasting through shattered walls until he came face to face with a Lycan warrior, sixteen feet tall. The beast raised its massive blade, purple veins rippling across its furred arms.

  But Valerius was faster. He vaulted from the ground into the air, leaping again as though the sky itself were solid. He twisted mid-flight, heel crashing downward like judgment.

  The Lycan’s forearms turned violet with hardened Fortis as he blocked. The ground convulsed—

  a crater 29 kilometers wide split open.

  Before the shockwave settled, two more challengers shot toward Valerius: one with a great curved sword, the other wielding a black staff.

  Shit! Valerius braced—

  But two blurs slammed into them. Irisa’s fist shattered into the staff wielder’s ribs, hurling the elf kilometers away. At the same instant, Mr. Baby’s tiny fist detonated against the swordsman’s chest, blasting the dragoon warrior into the distance until Cushion slowed his momentum.

  Beside the Lycan’s snarling muzzle, a small shadow appeared. The beast froze.

  What the— is that… a baby?

  Mr. Baby’s golden eyes glowed, his grin stretching wider than any child’s should. The sole of his tiny foot pressed against the Lycan’s cheek, glowing like molten gold.

  The Lycan’s pupils dilated.

  “Gu-gu… gaga.”

  BOOM.

  A blast erupted point-blank from the baby’s foot, swallowing the Lycan in an explosion that widened the crater to fifty kilometers. The recoil hurled Mr. Baby backwards like a ragdoll—until Irisa snagged him with one hand, anchoring with Cushion in the other.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The Lycan screamed as his body was obliterated, launched thousands of kilometers away. His ruin tore through mountains, split valleys, and ripped the sea open when his body finally left the island.

  Mr. Baby wheezed, his aura flickering. “I’m outta power! Quick—fortify me and fling mi sky-high!”

  Irisa didn’t hesitate. She braced, coated him in Fortis, and hurled him like a spear into the heavens.

  Mr. Baby’s hands blurred, clawing at the invisible threads of power. “Snatch! Snatch!” Challenger after challenger gasped as their energy drained from them, stolen to fuel the baby’s madness.

  Valerius leapt up, intercepting him. Mr. Baby’s grin flashed. “Trow mi at de castle—an’ fortify mi good!”

  Valerius grabbed him by the leg, wound back, and launched him like a missile at Mach 3000. Bomb.

  Three Bravo users stood ready. They layered their fortress in three walls of Cushion, domes invisible to the eye.

  But Mr. Baby only laughed as he tore straight through them. His body ripped through one defender—a Dragoon—like paper, splitting him in half. He crashed into the fortress heart, golden eyes burning.

  Boom. An explosion trembled. But before the fireball spread, Mr. Baby propelled himself forward with all the stolen energy.

  At the throne sat an elf woman, guardian of the flag. She rose in panic, hand darting for her sword. But her body lurched—her energy drained, Bravo bleeding from her veins. Eighty percent stolen in an instant.

  Mr. Baby appeared before her, grin feral. She froze.

  This child… I know him. It's that Golden child.

  He snatched the flag from its pedestal, then stepped on her face, shoving her into the marble. In his other hand, her bra appeared—stolen mockingly.

  That's no Golden child, that's a Demon Child.

  He kissed the air. His tiny feet glowed again.

  And then—

  Two blasts erupted at once.

  The first: the detonation from Mr. Baby’s landing, a hellish bomb that annihilated 300 kilometers of land, reducing it to dust. A blinding light swallowed the world.

  The second: the beam fired from his glowing foot, a torrent so vast it nearly split the island itself in two.

  The elf screamed, “Damn yooooou!”

  Its path aimed straight toward Valtos’s castle.

  And Valtos stood there.

  Fourteen feet tall, body radiating like a neutron star, his silver eyes unblinking. He raised one hand and formed a wall of repulsive force stretching a hundred kilometers.

  The fifty-kilometer-wide blast together with the elf woman smashed into it—and stopped.

  The world screamed, stone and sky tearing apart.

  Mr. Baby was flung violently in the opposite direction by the recoil. Valerius sprinted through the chaos, catching him under one arm before the shockwave could shred him apart.

  The explosion from Mr. Baby’s landing surged like a storm behind them—but Valerius fortified the ground and outran the fire.

  Meanwhile, within the 300km hell-zone, Poliandrew’s castle still stood. He had absorbed and redirected a sixty-kilometer-wide chunk of the devastation, shielding his fortress and the land around it with his own might.

  The battlefield had become apocalypse.

  ---

  When Valerius finally skidded to a halt, the world behind them still roared with echoes of explosions. Mr. Baby lay limp in his arm, chest rising and falling like a bellows.

  “Hoooo…” Mr. Baby wheezed, eyes half-shut but still grinning. “Bwoy… dat tek a lot outta mi. Mi nearly absorb too much, mi did.”

  Valerius glanced down at him, exasperated and impressed all at once. “Where the hell did you even come from?”

  Then he noticed the bra dangling from Mr. Baby’s hand.

  “…Uh.”

  Mr. Baby smirked, barely lifting it. “Trophy.”

  Valerius dragged a palm down his face.

  Irisa appeared at his side in a flash, her hair whipping in the wind, eyes shining. She crouched low, smiling at the baby. “You really did it. You impressed me, Baby.”

  Valerius held the captured flag in one hand. “With this, we’ve basically won. All we need to do is get back and defend it.”

  But Mr. Baby flopped in his grip like a corpse, utterly spent.

  Irisa tilted her head, smirking. “Oh, come on—you’re not gonna quit on me now, are you? I haven’t even had fun yet.”

  Valerius narrowed his eyes at her. “Fun? This is fun to you?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” she teased, stepping closer. Her eyes locked onto his, unblinking. “Look at me, Lerius. Tell me you don’t like it too—the thrill of the fight.”

  Valerius met her gaze for a long moment, then said flatly, “The priority is getting the flag back.”

  “Because your brother said so?” Irisa’s smile deepened. She brushed past him, circling like a wolf. “You could hand the flag off to Eryndor. Let him defend it. Meanwhile, you and I go hunting. Who knows—” her tone lowered, almost conspiratorial, “—I might even teach you Manifestus if you come with me.”

  His hand shot out, gripping her arm. His voice dropped. “Don’t mess with me.”

  Irisa leaned in, silver eyes gleaming, unafraid. “Why didn’t the giants teach it to you, then?”

  “I wasn’t ready.”

  She raised a brow. “But you were ready for Cry? Which is far more dangerous?”

  Valerius hesitated, gaze hard. “…They didn’t teach me that. It just… comes out sometimes. How did you even know I was with the giants”

  Irisa smirked and tapped her nose. “I’ve got the best nose in the world.”

  She pried his hand from her arm and stepped back. “You can play guard dog with the flag if you like. But if you want a veteran like me to show a noob like you how Bravo really works? You’re welcome to join me.”

  “Veteran?” Valerius scoffed. “You?”

  She turned sharply, arms folding across her chest. “You doubt me, Lerius?” Her tone sharpened. “Did you really think I fought you seriously? Veterans like me know how to fluctuate our output—to make weaker opponents believe we’re straining, when in truth, we’re barely trying. They never taught you that, did they? It’s one of the highest forms of Bravo control.”

  She spun away. “When you hand the flag over… come find me. See for yourself.”

  Then she blurred, vanishing into the horizon.

  Valerius stood silent, the flag heavy in his grip, Mr. Baby limp in his arm.

  ---

  Meanwhile, at Eryndor’s fortress…

  The siege had begun.

  Four Bravo users circled the lake, their auras hammering against the layered defenses like tidal waves. The walls trembled, groaning under the strain.

  At the front line stood Sydney, her body wreathed in flames. Her eyes blazed as she faced down two of them head-on. The air boiled between them, fire and mana clashing like stormfronts.

  One challenger sneered. “You’ll burn out before long.”

  Sydney’s lips curled into a feral grin. “Try me.”

  She thrust her arms wide—flames surged, and completely coverd the lake, forming a dome. The battleground was set ablaze.

  ---

  To Be Continued...