Chapter 195: To Hell (II)
The agonizing silence following the Lich’s impossible question hung in the air. Ren’s mind was violently reeling, trying to process the name Vincent, when another sound entirely shattered the dread of the throne room.
"He doesn’t use that name anymore. Am I not right? Commander Maddox!"
The voice was cheerful, melodic, and sickeningly theatrical, echoing off the high walls.
Ren and Maddox both snapped their heads to the side. The space inside the massive hall was tearing apart. A jagged, swirling gate materialized out of thin air, its edges bleeding with chaotic spatial energy. From the center of the distortion, a figure casually stepped forward, his boots clicking softly against the ancient stone floor.
Ren’s icy blue eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He had no idea who this intruder was, and a quick glance at Maddox’s deeply furrowed brow confirmed that the Commander was equally clueless.
The newcomer was dressed completely out of place for a deathmatch in an ancient tomb. He wore an immaculate, tailored formal suit with a perfectly pressed lapel and highly polished shoes. But it was his face that sent a deeply unsettling chill down Ren’s spine. The man’s features were entirely hidden behind a stark white porcelain mask. Painted on the mask were two sharp diamond eyes, an exaggerated, wide red smile, and a bright red nose. He looked like a literal Joker.
For Ren, the situation was rapidly devolving into pure absurdity. A sealed Supreme or worse, a primordial Calamity Lord. A mysterious, teleporting clown. And the name... Vincent. Ren strained his memory, his encyclopedic knowledge of history sifting through decades of lore. He had heard that name somewhere—perhaps in one of those large books, but his mind was too chaotic to place it right now.
But the name didn’t matter. What truly mattered, what completely broke the foundation of reality as Ren knew it, was the fact that Commander James Maddox was supposedly over a hundred and fifty years old.
Ren turned his head, staring at the young man standing right next to him. It was ridiculous. Maddox had the face of a man in his mid-twenties, radiating an energetic, boyish charm. How could he possibly be a relic of the previous century? Ren opened his mouth, desperate to demand an explanation, but Maddox instantly raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Not now," Maddox said, his voice stripped entirely of its usual playful arrogance. "I will explain later. Right now... our only goal is that I will try to create an opening. Get out of here and make it to Jakin... the Leader of the National Exterminator Agency in Tarita. Get him to evacuate the coasts as much as possible."
Ren’s breath hitched. "But... but what about you?"
Maddox didn’t look at him. His brown eyes remained locked on the towering, skeletal abomination sitting upon the throne of spines. "The seal on this place has weakened too much," Maddox murmured, a profound exhaustion bleeding into his tone. "I will have to spend another fifty years’ worth of my mana to replenish it..."
Maddox slowly straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders until they popped loudly in the cavern. He turned his gaze away from the Lich and glared directly at the Ren. "These pieces of bones can take their bones up their assholes."
The moment the crass insult left Maddox’s lips, the atmosphere in the cavern fundamentally changed. Maddox suddenly released a terrifying, catastrophic torrent of his presence. It was a physical weight that crashed down upon the room like a collapsing mountain. Ren gasped, his knees buckling slightly under the gravity of it. It felt eerily similar to the ’Supreme Presence’ technique that Ren’s father possessed. It was the terrifying power of forcing one’s absolute will onto the environment itself.
"Go! Now... you are an assassin, so get out of here!" Maddox commanded.
Without waiting for Ren’s response, he launched himself forward like a fired artillery shell. The force of his dash shattered the ancient stone floor beneath his boots, kicking up a colossal, blinding cloud of pulverized rock and thick dust that instantly swallowed the center of the hall.
Ren didn’t hesitate. He was a master assassin, trained from birth to exploit any given opening. Using the massive dust cloud as a perfect distraction, Ren almost disappeared from his surroundings. He might not have possessed the cataclysmic, world-breaking physical strength of the S-Rank Commander, but when it came to stealth and raw speed, Ren was a ghost.
Furthermore, the dark cloak he wore was a high-tier artifact. He channeled his mana into the fabric, and the cloak immediately activated its camouflage effect, shifting its color and texture to blend flawlessly into the shadows and the settling debris.
Ren sprinted across the perimeter of the vast hall, his boots making absolutely zero sound against the rock. He wove through the fractured pillars, his eyes locked on the heavy, towering exit gate at the far end. He was fast. In less than a few seconds, he was mere yards away from salvation.
Before anyone knew it, he would be out.
Suddenly, a terrifying displacement of air rushed at his side.
BAM!
A devastating kick slammed directly into Ren’s abdomen. The camouflage broke instantly as the air was violently forced from Ren’s lungs. He was sent spinning through the air, crashing spine-first into a thick stone wall.
Ren groaned, his vision swimming, but his survival instincts screamed. He threw his body to the side just as his attacker ripped a massive, ancient stone pillar from the ground and hurled it like a javelin. The colossal cylinder of rock smashed into the exact spot where Ren had just been, tearing straight through the wall and causing a massive section of the ceiling to collapse in a torrential rain of debris.
Ren barely had time to find his footing when the attacker closed the distance in a terrifying blur. Another heavy kick connected solidly with Ren’s stomach. He was sent flying backward into the falling rubble, but this time, the master assassin did not just take the hit. Twisting his body mid-air through the blinding pain, Ren’s hands shot out like striking vipers. He clamped his grip around the attacker’s extended leg, anchored his weight, and violently torqued his entire body.
A sickening, wet SNAP echoed through the dust as Ren deliberately broke the attacker’s leg at the knee.
Ren tumbled through the sharp debris, skidding to a halt several yards away. He coughed up a splatter of blood, forcing himself up onto one knee. He summoned a short sword, his icy blue eyes piercing through the settling dust to identify the monster who had intercepted him.
Standing amidst the shattered debris was the man from earlier. The Joker.
The masked man didn’t look like someone who had just suffered a crippling injury. He was standing on one leg, his pristine formal suit coated in white dust. Slowly, the Joker reached down with both gloved hands and grabbed his own broken, mangled leg.
The Joker placed his boot firmly on the ground, tilted his masked face toward Ren, and gave a cheerful, exaggerated wave.
"Hello there," the Joker said. "I joined in because you forgot I was also there."