Chapter 332: Karl’s True Power
Leo observed Karl from behind the sand dune, watching as the traitor fought the seven assassins spread around him with a feral smile stretched wide across his face.
A part of Leo wanted to leap in, strike Karl down and end the bastard for good—but something about the man’s current aura made his skin crawl.
His current aura did not feel like the Karl he remembered.
It felt dangerous.
Predatory.
And hence, his instincts told him to stay low, and wait.
’That aura... it feels like a Transcendent-tier warrior. Is that his true strength?’ Leo wondered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to reconcile this monster before him with the cook he once knew.
The Karl he remembered had been a weak, soft-spoken, master-tier chef with a silver tongue and a coward’s spine.
Leo had never seen him fight seriously—never even considered him a threat.
But now?
Now the pressure rolling off him was unnatural, as though he was a Transcendent tier berserker that had lost his mind, as Leo couldn’t help but be wary of him.
His movements teetered between clarity and chaos, his body twitching with raw instinct while his eyes struggled to focus.
’What is that speed...?’ Leo thought, as he watched Karl dodge yet another dagger flying his way.
Currently, he stood in the center of the seven assassins, cornered in a circle, however, the expression on his face made it seem like he wasn’t worried about being ganged up on at all.
He stood with his spine bent at an unnatural angle, head twitching sporadically to one side, while drool spilled from his slack jaw that opened and closed in uneven, labored gasps.
And yet, despite the grotesque presentation, when he moved, he moved like a demon.
His bare feet scraped across the sand with explosive pivots, his fingers curled more like claws than hands, and each lunge he made came with an unnatural twist of muscle and joint that shouldn’t have been possible for a human body.
The seven Grandmaster-tier assassins held their ground in a tight ring around him, faces set with discipline and nerves pulled taut.
However, despite their advantage in numbers, it was clear that they were struggling to contain him.
Each of them wielded a unique weapon—daggers, short spears, glowing gauntlets—all of them worn, tested, and bloodied from many battles before.... Showing that they were an experienced bunch, however, they still struggled to pin Karl down.
"Circle tighter! Don’t let him break out! Bairon, go left—use [Serrated Wind Step] and cut his ankle from behind! Hold formation!" their leader, a silver-haired woman shouted with a commanding voice, as her long braid swung behind her.
Bairon obeyed immediately. His boots flared with wind mana as he blurred sideways and sliced low toward Karl’s ankle, with the blade even making contact.
*Slash*
The blade slid off the flesh, as instead of making a cut, it rang out with a metallic screech, skimming over skin that sounded like reinforced steel.
"Hehehehe..." Karl chuckled, as instead of flinching from the pain, he giggled.
His hand shot forward, seizing Bairon by the crown of his head like a man grabbing an apple, as he tried to squeeze and pop Bairon’s skull.
However, before he could do so, another warrior from the team yelled "[Stone Palm Counter]!", and slammed into Karl’s elbow just in time to deflect the lethal motion.
*Pop*
Karl’s elbow joint popped out of place with a wet crack, his arm jerking back.
But he didn’t scream.
Didn’t even wince from the pain, as he only let out a low, guttural groan, as if the pain reminded him that he was still alive.
"Keep the pressure! Rotate angles! Della, hit him with [Blazing Feint], don’t let him catch his footing!" the leader shouted again, as Della darted in with speed, her spear blazing orange, as she angled for Karl’s chest.
*Swoosh*
Her attack narrowly missed, grazing past Karl’s shoulder as the Transcendent-tier warrior twisted at the last possible moment—but not fast enough to completely evade, as the tip of Della’s spear tore a small chunk of flesh from his arm.
"Why isn’t he bleeding?" Della hissed as she stared at Karl’s arm that was injured but still not bleeding, as barely any blood seeped out of his wound.
"He’s already mutated," another muttered.
"That body’s not entirely human anymore." their leader observed, as Karl suddenly crouched low, then shot upward like a coiled spring, his leg hooking under the chin of a twin-dagger wielder named Reed who had closed in for an attack after Della.
*Crack*
Reed’s head jerked back as his body launched into the air, landing with a dull thud against a dune wall.
Blood poured from his mouth, and though he twitched once... he never moved again.
"Shit—Reed’s down!"
The team flinched, unsure of how to respond to the sudden death, as all it took for Karl to take one of them down was one clean kick to the chin, which connected with enough power to kill a Grandmaster!
*Snap*
Karl snapped back his dislocated arm with a sickening pop after killing Reed, as he charged toward the next smallest member of the team—a boy no older than twenty, who had barely finished gathering enough mana for an explosive attack spell.
*Punch*
Karl reached him before the spell could form, as his hand punched through the boy’s stomach like it was wet parchment.
*SPLAT*
Blood erupted from the boy’s mouth in violent bursts, pouring down his chin in thick streams as his spine bent forward at a grotesque angle.
His body convulsed, knees buckling beneath him, until Karl grabbed and twisted his hand.
Then came the rip.
With a brutal upward motion, Karl’s arm tore through the boy’s torso, and the sound it made was like wet fabric being shredded underwater.
A spray of entrails burst out with a sickening pop, as his other hand clawed through the chest cavity, fingers raking across bone and tendon, peeling flesh from ribs like stripping bark from a tree.
The boy’s mouth gaped, frozen in silence, as his scream got strangled before it could ever leave.
His windpipe had been crushed the moment Karl’s arm had punched through his diaphragm, and hence no sound could escape his lips when he died.
*Thud*
By the time the corpse hit the ground, it no longer resembled a person.
It was a heap of ragged meat, scattered intestines, and something wet and pulsing that used to be a heart.
Leo did not flinch at the gruesome sight, but the others in the team were clearly disturbed.
They were all assassins who had witnessed their fair share of cruelty in their lifetimes.
They had all inflicted pain and danced in the blood of enemies.
But this was different.
This was savagery. The kind born not from rage, but from something deeper—something feral, unhinged, and free of restraint, as in the face of such savagery even the bravest of hearts trembled.
"I don’t think we can take him, Captain.... We can’t tear past his skin! I think we should make a run for it...." Della suggested, as the Captain grit her teeth in dismay.
"No...." The captain said in a low voice.
"He’s faster than all of us... if we run, we will be picked out one after another.... We either face him here, or we die...." She said, as she knew that there was no chance of outrunning this monster.