CHAPTER 292: DEVIL MIRAGE TECHNIQUE

According to the others’ explanation, Gabriel had come to understand that the Deleters thrived on canceling magic attacks or weapons that required mana.

But what if... just what if he used his raw strength without the help of any mana—could they still be this powerful?

Gabriel’s gaze briefly went to Andrew’s sword. He could tell that was the Deleters’ biggest strength. With that iron grip, unless you cut off his arm, he wouldn’t let go of that blade.

Yes, Gabriel was strong and had enough mana to play with, but even someone like him wasn’t safe from Andrew’s deletion edges or Yumi’s mana suppression skill.

’Then physical strength is it then,’ he thought, twisting his neck to the side. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the floor from his stiff posture.

On the other hand, Andrew—who had maintained a nonchalant expression as if he wasn’t bothered by anything—finally reacted upon hearing Gabriel’s arrogant words.

Andrew’s eyelid twitched.

For the first time since he walked in, his relaxed, bored façade cracked a little.

While his subordinates watched with both anxiety and confusion, Gabriel stepped forward.

The air around him didn’t explode with aura. There was no dramatic surge of flames, no glowing buffs—nothing.

He just... walked.

But every step sounded loud in that quiet hall, like his heel was pressing into their nerves.

Andrew lifted the Deletion Edge lazily, pointing the tip at Gabriel. "Last warning," he said. "Lie back down and pretend to be unconscious. Maybe I’ll just reset you instead of wiping you completely."

"Yeah," Garth added with a grin. "Make it easy for yourself, bug."

Gabriel stopped a few meters away.

Up close, it was easier to notice it. His expression wasn’t the usual lazy smirk people wore when they thought they were strong. His eyes were too calm. Too clear. No panic, no frustration—not even excitement.

Just focus.

"I’ve seen the top of this Tower," he said.

Andrew raised a brow. "Congratulations?"

"There’s a throne and a crystal chained by blood," Gabriel continued as if he hadn’t heard him. "Final boss sitting on it with three knight-level guards. If I want to reach there before the other guilds, I can’t waste time on you."

Sophie’s eyes widened slightly behind him. "Gabriel..."

Ragnarok whistled under his breath. "He saw the top already? Seriously..."

Andrew clicked his tongue. "You talk like a bug who read a spoiler and now thinks he’s a dev. Annoying." His voice cooled. "Yumi. Keep the field at max. Garth. If he gets into melee, break him."

"Gladly," Garth said.

Gabriel lifted his hands slowly and flexed his fingers.

He wasn’t summoning a weapon.

He closed one fist, then the other. His joints crackled. Then he stomped the ground and shot forward. He didn’t shout the skill name aloud at first. One instant, he stood there—

The next—

FWIP.

He was gone.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. His senses were honed from years of dealing with anomalies. He saw the blur move to his left and swung the Deletion Edge in that direction, the blade leaving a faint white cut in the air.

The sword hit something.

Gabriel’s arm.

The edge grazed his skin.

A strip of his sleeve and a shallow line of flesh disappeared like someone erased them with an invisible rubber.

Sophie sucked in a breath.

But instead of flinching, Gabriel twisted midair.

His other hand snapped forward and hammered into Andrew’s wrist.

CRACK.

Andrew’s eyes widened as sharp pain shot up his arm. His grip almost loosened, but he forced strength into his fingers, teeth gritting.

Gabriel landed, slid, and bounced back out of direct range. A faint white mark was carved along his forearm where the flesh had been erased, but the bleeding had already stopped. The Deletion Edge had taken a piece—but not enough.

’So it really deletes on contact, huh.’ Gabriel flexed his arm once. ’Tch. That hurt.’

Andrew flexed his wrist. It throbbed.

Garth saw the exchange and grinned wider. "Fast," he said. "But not enough."

He blurred forward.

Gabriel didn’t dodge this time.

He stepped into it.

BAM.

Their shoulders collided.

It looked like Garth had the advantage—he was shorter, bulkier, built like a walking tank with strange gauntlets covering his arms.

But the impact told a different story.

Garth’s eyes bulged. His feet dragged two long lines across the stone as he was forced backward, boots grinding.

"The hell—?" he hissed.

He snarled and swung a punch aimed at Gabriel’s ribs.

Gabriel ducked, the fist passing over his head. The air itself shook from the force.

He stepped into Garth’s guard and drove an uppercut into his stomach.

It was just a fist—no mana enchantments, just pure strength. But it went in deep.

"—!"

Garth’s breath exploded out of his lungs. His heavy body left the ground for a second, then flew backward like a thrown boulder.

BOOM!

He smashed into a broken wall.

The entire section collapsed on him.

Ragnarok’s jaw dropped slightly. He had been fighting Garth for minutes, and the short brute felt like an immovable mountain—yet Sir Broken had sent him flying with a single punch.

With no skill enhancement at that!

Anna’s eyes gleamed as she watched his footwork. ’Master’s movements... they’re smoother than before. He must’ve been training without us knowing.’

Yumi stared, her expression twisting. She had a bad feeling about this person, and it was playing out right in front of her.

Andrew shook his wrist once, annoyance flaring. He snapped his fingers.

Thin white lines expanded around him like a cage, forming a rough domain.

Gabriel exhaled and said, "I should get serious as well."

There was a brief moment of silence and then he spoke out loud.

"Devil Mirage."

The moment the words left his mouth, his presence changed.

It wasn’t mana—at least, not in the usual sense. Yumi’s suppression field didn’t flare like it usually did when someone activated a high-tier skill.

Instead, every hair on her body stood on end.

For Sophie, Cassie, Samantha, and the rest—even Ragnarok—it felt like the floor warped.

Gabriel’s outline blurred, not from speed alone but from something else—like the air couldn’t decide where to place him.

Then he moved.

SCHLK.

He took a single step.

His body split.

Another Gabriel stepped out of that movement on his left.

Then another behind him.

Then two more in front.

"...Eh?" Ragnarok muttered.

There were six Gabriels now—all with the same lazy red hair, same calm electric-blue eyes, same relaxed stance.

They didn’t look like cheap afterimages from anime, flickering and transparent.

They all looked real.