CHAPTER 233: THE NORTHERN RAID FINAL

What they saw was a tall figure with red hair and electric blue eyes, his cold and listless gaze screaming murder.

Instinctively, the troupe summoned their weapons and hurled magic attacks at the mysterious person, who seemed as if he had fallen from the heavens.

An intense wave of killing intent rolled off his body, making it difficult for them to even breathe properly.

"Ambush! We have been ambushed!" the lead commandant shouted at the top of his voice. "Attack!"

Instantly, all the militants present began to fire at him, their hands recoiling due to the heavy recoil of their rifles.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Gabriel, already anticipating this, activated Iron Body and the gold-ranked Guard Robe, which projected a transparent barrier around him.

The bullets bounced off the barrier, though a few slipped past. However, they were all stopped by his hardened skin under the effects of Iron Body.

Quickly, he channeled a massive amount of mana into Crimson Judgement and slashed at a cluster of foot soldiers.

A giant arc of crimson energy hurtled toward the unfortunate soldiers below. They tried to block or scatter, but it cut down several of them. A few managed to escape, but the aftermath was devastating.

Among those killed, there were many players—it was easy to tell, as the air was filled with glowing data fragments dissolving into nothing.

The few who survived cursed under their breath.

"It’s—it’s Sir Broken!" one of the players watching from afar shouted to his partner.

"What is he doing here!?" his partner stammered in shock.

"That’s none of our business. Quickly, turn on the livestream! This could be our chance to hit it big!" the first player said as he scrambled to an elevated spot for a clearer view to stream.

Standing on the roof of the car did more harm than good to Gabriel, exposing him to danger. He leaped down and landed right in front of the gunslinger.

The man’s face went pale as if he had seen a ghost. In a panic, he unleashed a desperate rain of bullets at the red-haired monster.

CLANG! CLANG! Sparks flew as bullets clanged against Gabriel’s crimson greatsword, every shot deflected with ease.

[Party Activate!]

Gabriel closed the gap instantly. His sword flashed upward in a clean arc, splitting the rifle in two. Terror froze the man’s face a split second before a boot connected with his chest, ending his life right there.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of adventurers and militants had fallen. The ground was dyed red with blood.

The enemies hesitated now, uncertain whether to keep shooting or casting spells despite their superior numbers. Thus far, nothing they had done worked. Subconsciously, all eyes turned to the commandant, awaiting his next order.

The man’s expression twisted in fury. He roared, "It’s just one man! Continue shoot—"

He never finished. A sudden noise erupted behind him. Turning, his face went white with horror.

Adventurers and militants of Broken Dawn charged like a crashing wave, war cries echoing in the night. Fireballs, lightning bolts, and other spells lit the darkness as mages unleashed destruction. Warriors descended with blades gleaming, while rifles cracked in perfect sync.

"FOR BROKEN DAWN!"

Total chaos erupted.

Anna was the first to move. Retrieving a pair of throwing knives, she hurled them at two men wielding suspicious weapons.

"Arghh!"

"Bitch!"

The two cursed as the blades struck their chests. When they tried to yank them out, Anna was already upon them. She slammed her boot against the first knife, driving it deeper into one man’s heart, then pulled the second blade free and plunged it into the other’s throat. Both dropped dead instantly.

She turned toward a larger group of militants and roared, "Don’t let them form ranks! Keep firing!"

The militants obeyed, rifles booming in synchronized volleys. Every shot was precise, calculated, tearing through the enemy ranks. Ammo was spent without hesitation, bodies dropping one after another as formations broke apart.

On another part of the battlefield, one militant retrieved what looked like a grenade—one of the deadly Corrosive Venom Bombs Gabriel had handed out earlier.

He hurled it into a crowded area. Upon impact, a sharp purple flash erupted. The venomous effect spread instantly, and in the blink of an eye, five enemies writhed on the ground, convulsing as if in seizures.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Smoke bombs, corrosive venom bombs, and flashbangs—Gabriel had extracted them all. The militants had saved these weapons for this very moment, and now they unleashed them without restraint. Explosions shook the battlefield, tearing apart squads and sowing terror.

The enemy commandant was utterly bewildered. His eyes widened at the sight of grenades and high-grade weaponry detonating across the field.

"Impossible! How the hell do a bunch of bandits have access to this level of gear!?" he shouted, his voice cracking.

"They aren’t bandits!" his assistant yelled, ducking as a flashbang burst nearby. His men screamed as their flesh peeled from the corrosive blast. "This is—this is Broken Dawn! They’re a new guild!"

The information didn’t help. Right before his eyes, his troops were losing ground simply because the enemy had superior weapons and treasures.

"It’s not worth it," the commandant snarled, gritting his teeth. "We have to retreat with the cargo. Abandon everything else!"

From afar, Gabriel seemed to sense their intent.

"Protect the cargo at all costs!" the assistant shouted but his cry was cut short as a dark flame orb exploded in his face.

BOOOM!

[Ding! You have defeated a Level 48 Human.]

Gabriel lowered his hand, canceling his skill. The ground trembled as he stomped forward, every strike cleaving enemies like paper, his greatsword glowing intensely, overcharged with mana.

A soldier tried to block with a shield. Gabriel didn’t even slow. His blade tore through the shield—and the man—in one clean motion.

[Fatal Attack!]

Every swing of his sword generated shockwaves. Enemies—especially the players—paid dearly with their lives.

-99

-100

-69

-100

Damage numbers filled the air. That day, on the northern route, the valley was drowned in chaos. Cries of pain, explosions, gunfire, and dissolving data fragments of slain players filled the night.

By the time morning arrived, the cargo truck heading toward the northern camp was secured.

***

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