Chapter 199: Swatted

He was a knight-level assassin, not quite at the pinnacle like a great knight, but still a well-known figure among adventurers. He had never been so underestimated before.

The assassin drew his dagger, crouched low, and with a cold glance at Helag, vanished.

“Meina! Stop!” Williams turned sharply to halt his companion, but Meina had already disappeared.

In the next instant, a humanoid shadow appeared behind Helag. It was Meina, dagger in hand, aiming for the gap in Helag’s black armor at his neck.

Helag stood motionless, his voice deep, “I’ve killed someone as weak as you even when I was just an ordinary person.”

Helag recalled a time in the Emerald Mountains when he wasn’t even a knight and had no magic. He was pursued by a knight-level assassin but managed to turn the tables.

Meina scoffed at Helag’s words, dismissing them with a smirk. An ordinary person killing a knight-level warrior? He must think I’m a fool.

Helag’s comment only fueled Meina’s disdain as he thrust his dagger with increased speed. However, he found his dagger halted mere centimeters from Helag’s neck, stopped by an invisible barrier.

Upon closer inspection, it was a thin, multicolored film, almost invisible if not for its hues. Realizing his attack had failed, a sense of foreboding washed over Meina.

An assassin’s standard tactic was to retreat after a failed strike. As Meina prepared to withdraw, Helag moved. He grabbed Meina’s dagger-wielding hand and yanked, intending to pull Meina forward. Instead, he only managed to tear Meina’s arm off, blood spurting.

“ARGHHHH!!! GYAAAAAAA” Meina’s scream of agony echoed.

Helag’s voice was calm, “Apologies, I didn’t realize you were so fragile. I used a bit too much strength.”

Meina clutched his wound, terror-stricken. What kind of monster was this? A casual tug had ripped his arm off. Normally, even a strong person would only pull someone forward. To rip an arm off suggested an unimaginably terrifying strength. Helag’s nonchalance in doing so was what terrified Meina most. This giant’s power was beyond his comprehension.

“Meina!” Williams, witnessing the scene, couldn’t think further. He drew his greatsword and charged, intent on saving his companion. The broad sword sliced through the air, aiming for Helag’s head with fierce momentum. Williams didn’t know if his strike would succeed, but he had to try his best.

Helag slowly extended his hand, grasping the greatsword. His fingers tightened, and the sword twisted and deformed. Williams’ eyes widened in disbelief. His greatsword, crafted by a dwarf using meteorite and dragon’s blood, was a legendary weapon. It had cleaved through countless weapons. Yet today, this indestructible sword was crumpled into scrap metal by a mere squeeze from this man.

Helag yanked the sword from Williams’ grasp, crushing it into pieces with a squeeze, muttering, “What a piece of junk.”

He turned to Williams, casually swinging a slap. Williams watched the slap approach, wanting to dodge, but his body wouldn’t move.

Move!

Move!

What’s holding me back? Is it magic?

Confusion flickered through Williams’ mind as he pondered why he couldn’t evade the slap.

Thud.

Helag’s slap connected with Williams’ head, sending it flying from his neck. As his head flew, Williams realized, “I wasn’t restrained; he’s just that fast…”

With that, his consciousness plunged into darkness.

Boom!

Williams’ headless body collapsed heavily, a dull thud resonating. Silence enveloped the scene. Meina, clutching his wound, seemed numb to the pain. Everyone stared blankly at the corpse, then at Helag. A moment of stupor gave way to overwhelming fear.

Williams was dead.

Dead.

And he was killed with a single slap.

Everyone felt as if they were dreaming. The scene shattered their understanding. A great knight like Williams, killed with a slap. He died effortlessly, without a chance to fight back. Like a mosquito swatted dead.

“I don’t need a reason to crush a few ants.”

Helag’s earlier words echoed in their minds. At that moment, they understood. Helag wasn’t arrogant; to him, they truly were ants. Does one need a reason to crush an ant? Certainly not. If you want to crush it, you do.

Run!

They had to run!

Overwhelming fear spurred their survival instincts, prompting them to flee. Regaining some sense, they each chose a direction to escape. With so many fleeing, it was a matter of luck who’d survive.

“A wise choice, but it doesn’t apply to me,” Helag said calmly. Despite his massive frame suggesting sluggishness, he was anything but. The adventurers assumed giants were slow despite their strength. They hoped to escape by fleeing.

Meina, missing an arm, reacted first, vanishing into the shadows and sprinting away. Helag’s foot slammed the ground, instantly appearing behind Meina, delivering a punch to his back. Meina accelerated, crashing into a distant cliff wall. His body slid down, leaving a bloody smear, like a mosquito swatted against a wall.

Seeing Helag pursue Meina, the others felt a glimmer of hope. The valley’s exit was near; they just needed to run faster to escape. But Helag’s speed exceeded their imagination. After killing Meina, Helag didn’t pause, swiftly catching another fleeing adventurer. This one wasn’t even knight-level, but it made no difference. Helag’s casual slap sent him flying, lifeless on the ground.