Chapter 43: That Was Fun

Chapter 43: That Was Fun For the first time in weeks, Ragnar’s domain wasn’t under constant threat of being cleansed, purged, or otherwise heroically renovated. The Hazard Rank S designation had worked like a giant "Do Not Disturb" sign hung on the front door of Sector 7. It was, frankly, starting to get on his nerves. "I’m bored," Ragnar announced to the Throne Room, which was currently occupied by Pixia, who was cataloging different types of dust motes, and Gary the kobold, who was asleep and twitching. "This is the problem with winning too decisively. The enemy gets scared and stops providing free entertainment and experience points." The EXP from Masakado’s humiliating defeat had been a sweet, sweet taste of progress, but it wasn’t enough. His CP debt was a monstrous weight on his True Core, and the slow trickle of EXP from the student-run "Farm" on the first floor barely made a dent. He needed to be proactive. He needed to test his new toys. "Pixia, stop analyzing the lint," he commanded. "I require your assistance for a field test." The tiny pixie librarian zipped to his shoulder, her glasses askew. "A field test, my Lord? Of what nature? Shall I prepare the subordinate evaluation forms?" "No, a personal field test," Ragnar said, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "My new vampire abilities are getting rusty. It’s time to see what they can really do. And for that, I need to borrow some skills." He strode over to the corner where Reina, his Dhampir creation, stood guard with her usual stoic indifference. "Reina. Your blood, if you please. I need to borrow your talent for turning things into a fine red mist." Reina, who was still getting used to the "Don’t Kill Yourself for Being Awesome" rule, looked momentarily confused but complied, offering her finger. Ragnar took a small drop, the taste of fire and dormant power flooding his senses. The clumsy knowledge of bat-flight was instantly overwritten by a surge of raw, destructive magic. He could feel new spells bubbling in his mind, abilities he hadn’t known existed. "Excellent," he purred, feeling the new power settle in. "Now for a target." He pulled up the dungeon map on his phone. As if on cue, a notification chimed. A small party of four heroes had just entered his second domain, the old library...three sectors away. They were likely scavengers, picking at the scraps left after his unification with Pixia’s domain. "Perfect," Ragnar said. "A live-fire exercise. Isabelle! Reina! You’re with me. We’re going on a little road trip." Isabelle, who had been quietly meditating in a corner, rose to her feet. "My Lord?" "Time for your first official mission as my Bloodkin," Ragnar explained. "Consider it a team-building exercise. With significantly more screaming and property damage than usual." He led the two of them to the newly designated Transfer Chamber. Pixia had identified a key feature of his domain unification, he now had access to the Transfer Arrays Pixia had built in her library. He could move between his two territories, albeit with a cooldown. He stepped onto the glowing stone circle, Isabelle and Reina flanking him, and with a lurch that felt like the universe turning inside out, they were gone. They reappeared in the dusty, book-lined halls of the old library. The air here was different, smelling of old paper and silence. "The invaders are on the second floor, in the history section," Pixia’s voice squeaked from Ragnar’s pocket, where she was safely tucked away. "Four of them. Seem to be D-Rank. Proceed with caution, my Lord." "Caution is for people who don’t have a walking nuclear warhead on their team," Ragnar whispered, glancing at Reina. They moved through the halls like ghosts. Ragnar, with his borrowed Dhampir skills, felt light, fast, and brimming with destructive energy. They found the heroes huddled around a scorched bookshelf, trying to pry a loose gem from the wall. "Alright, ladies," Ragnar whispered. "Let’s make this quick and messy." He raised his hand and channeled a spell he hadn’t known a minute ago. "Crimson Lash," he commanded. A whip of solidified, blood-red energy erupted from his palm, cracking through the air. BOOM! The wind shrieked as the lash moved, a blur of crimson light. It wrapped around the leg of one of the heroes, a burly man with an axe. CRACK! The lash tightened. A sharp sonic boom echoed through the library as the man’s leg was crushed, the bone audibly shattering. A visible shockwave of force exploded outwards, sending books flying from the shelves. The man screamed and fell. "Ambush!" another hero yelled, a young woman with a bow. She spun and loosed an arrow. Before it could even reach him, Ragnar cast another spell. "[Misty Veil]." A thick, unnatural fog instantly filled the corridor, swirling with shadows and whispers. It was disorienting, suffocating. The heroes couldn’t see a thing. "I can’t see! Where are they?" one of them yelled in panic. Ragnar smiled in the darkness. "Right here." He moved, a phantom in the mist. He appeared beside the archer, his hand glowing with dark energy. "[Shadowflame Bolt]." BOOM! A ball of black and purple fire shot from his palm. It didn’t just burn, it detonated. The archer was engulfed in a silent explosion of shadow. A violent shockwave blasted outwards from the impact, and the archer simply ceased to exist, her body vaporized. The force of the blast sent Ragnar stumbling back a step, the raw power surprising even him. The remaining two heroes were in a full-blown panic, swinging their weapons wildly into the fog. Isabelle and Reina moved in to clean up. Isabelle was a dance of silent death. She appeared, her dark sword, Dáinsleif, a whisper of steel. BOOM! Her blade met the neck of one of the heroes. The sound was a sharp, final crack. A small shockwave rippled out, and the hero collapsed without a sound. Reina’s approach was less subtle. BOOM! The ground itself seemed to explode as she launched herself through the mist. The last hero, a young man with a sword and shield, only had time to widen his eyes in terror before she was upon him. BOOM! CRACK! Her fist connected with his shield. The shield shattered into a thousand pieces. The force of the impact was a visible, white detonation that ripped through the hero’s body, pulverizing his bones. The sonic boom was deafening, and the resulting shockwave blew the mist away, revealing the scene of total devastation. Four bodies, dealt with in less than thirty seconds. Ragnar looked at his hands, then at the smoking crater where the archer had been. He could feel the influx of EXP, a satisfying warmth spreading through him. "Well," he said, a slow, deeply satisfied grin on his face. "That was fun. I think I’m starting to like this ’direct combat’ thing." He was no longer just a manager. He was a frontline fighter. And he was very, very good at it. This chapter is updated by freew(e)bnovel.(c)om