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Chapter 84: Traitor
Ethan ducked beneath a strike that would have decapitated him instantly.
He countered with three rapid strikes to the joint connecting the behemoth’s head and thorax.
His daggers pierced armor that had repelled the other generals’ weapons.
The behemoth roared in genuine pain, five remaining eye-stalks swiveling to track Ethan’s movement as he disengaged with Enhanced Speed.
"Its neck!" he called to the others. "Target the segments I’ve already damaged!"
The generals adjusted their attack patterns, focusing where Ethan had created vulnerability.
Still, their combined efforts barely managed what Ethan accomplished alone. The behemoth’s armor simply exceeded low silver-rank penetration capabilities.
"We need something stronger," General Zhao acknowledged, frustration evident as her lightning spear glanced off crystalline plating once more.
Ethan analyzed the situation with cold precision. At current damage rates, they’d exhaust themselves before inflicting critical injuries. They needed a weakness beyond armor—something fundamental to the creature’s function.
His eyes supplied the answer.
"The joints where legs connect to the central body," he instructed. "Unarmored flesh beneath—if we sever enough limbs, it can’t maintain stability."
"Easier said than done," Wei shot back, narrowly evading an attack that shattered stone where he’d stood moments before.
Ethan didn’t waste breath arguing. He activated multiple talents simultaneously—Enhanced Speed for mobility, Crystal Hardening for defense, Wind for versatility. Silver energy cascaded around him as he darted beneath the behemoth’s massive form.
The creature sensed danger, its enormous bulk shifting to crush him beneath its weight. Too slow. Ethan’s daggers found their target—the unprotected flesh where its left foreleg joined the thorax. He carved through tissue and severed critical tendons with three precisely angled strikes.
The limb immediately lost coordinated function, hanging uselessly as the behemoth shifted its weight to compensate.
"Now!" Ethan shouted. "While it’s off-balance!"
The generals attacked in perfect synchronization, each targeting a different limb-joint on the creature’s right side.
The behemoth lurched dangerously, its sound ringing, across the battlefield, Ezekiel and the monkey paused their combat momentarily, both sensing the shift in momentum.
"Your distraction fails," the City Lord declared, blood streaming from a gash across his forehead. "The behemoth falls."
The monkey’s eyes narrowed, frustration replacing mockery. "One battle means nothing in war."
Their exchange resumed with increased intensity, yet both combatants kept peripheral awareness of the behemoth’s deteriorating condition.
Ethan coordinated the continued assault, experience from previous silver-rank kills informing his strategy. "Keep targeting mobility," he instructed. "Disable first, kill second.
The behemoth seemed to understand its peril. It abandoned conventional attacks, instead slamming its remaining limbs against the ground with earth-shaking force. The vibrations disrupted the Silver-ranks’ footing, buying precious seconds as the creature attempted retreat.
PEthan went after it immediately, Enhanced Speed carrying him across crumbling terrain.
Can’t let it regroup.
His daggers found the same joint he’d targeted before, carving slightly deeper into exposed tissue. The creature’s high vitality had sealed previous wounds, but each successive strike weakened it further.
"Form a perimeter!" he called to the generals. "Don’t let it reach the outer walls!"
General Zhao positioned herself on the behemoth’s left flank, lightning crackling around her spear. Her thrust penetrated armor by mere centimetres—barely a scratch, yet every wound accumulated toward critical damage.
Wei struck from the right, twin swords targeting the same segment repeatedly. His first strike bounced off its skin. The second carved a hairline fracture. The third deepened it fractionally.
’Patience,’ Ethan thought, observing their methodical approach.
Death by a thousand cuts.
Meanwhile, a silver aura flickered at the district’s edge—Han retreating while maintaining resistance against the Harpy. His battle looked impressive to distant observers.
Yet his trajectory carried him steadily away from the main conflict.
"He is bringing him here," General Ruan muttered, noting Han’s withdrawal.
His own blade struck the behemoth’s damaged neck joint, adding another shallow cut to Ethan’s previous work.
The odds had shifted. Two Silver-ranked monsters against five humans.
’Should be manageable,’ Ethan calculated.
If we coordinate properly. But the real question is...will Han have the nerve to do anything under the watch of the city lord
He struck again at the behemoth’s weakened limb, his flame lit blade dealing extra damage.
This time, he felt less resistance, a major tendon parted beneath his enhanced blade.
The creature’s left hind leg collapsed completely.
"Progress!"
General Zhao thrust her spear into the gap Ethan had created, electricity discharging into the gap.
The behemoth convulsed softly, its movements growing increasingly uncoordinated.
A few hundred meters away from them, the City Lord’s battle with the monkey entered its most dangerous phase.
---
Ezekiel pressed forward despite blood streaming from a dozen wounds. His axe carved silver arcs through the air, each strike carrying enough force to level buildings.
The monkey deflected with its staff, but the impact sent it skidding backward.
The monkey wasn’t just strong, it was cunning.
"Your city burns while you play with me," it taunted, staff spinning in defensive patterns. "How does it feel, watching everything collapse?"
"Better than you’ll feel when I split your skull," Ezekiel snarled.
The monkey grinned, revealing its sharp teeth. "Such anger. Such focus on the wrong enemy."
It launched a counterattack that caught the City Lord off-guard. The staff struck his temple with precise force, sending him staggering sideways.
Blood trickled from the fresh wound.
"You still don’t understand," the monkey continued, pressing its advantage. "This entire attack was theater. Distraction from the real objective."
Ezekiel recovered, axe sweeping horizontally to force distance between them. "What objective?"
"The one currently succeeding while you waste time here." The monkey’s staff found his ribs, cracking armor with surgical precision. "Did you really think random monsters could breach your walls without inside help?"
Understanding dawned in the City Lord’s eyes. "Someone’s working with you."
"Finally catching on." The monkey ducked beneath his retaliatory strike. "Your precious generals aren’t as loyal as you believe."
Ezekiel’s attacks intensified, fury lending power to each blow. The monkey’s staff intercepted most strikes, but two connected—shallow cuts across its shoulder and thigh that drew silver blood.
"Who?" he demanded. "Which general?"
"Wouldn’t you like to know?" The monkey pirouetted around his next attack, staff targeting the gap in his damaged armor.
