If one were to ask a random cultured human from Earth.
' Hey, what do you think the apocalypse would look like? '
The answer to the question would somehow look like the active scenario on the northern battlefront.
Asteroids falling, Earth opening up at random places and swallowing giants whole, lightning striking people with deadly accuracy and overall an atmosphere of absolute uncertainty as nobody even understands as to where they are going to be hit from.
If there was ever going to be a painting on the theme ' Pandemonium ' the current battlefield scenario would be a strong candidate to win.
" Quack Quack Quack " The big mama duck said as Neatwit affectionately stroked its head overlooking the battlefield.
The guildmaster of the True Elites had arrived in style with his ducks as his arrival signified the beginning of the end for the Mercenaries.
Gurdan, who noticed the arrival of the powerhouse from a distance understood that he was way out of his league in this fight and tried to bail out, but unfortunately for him Neatwit was exponentially faster than him as the moment he turned to run away, he found the guildmaster of the elites standing in front of him, his black sword in hand as he unleashed a powerful sword attack.
-15,900
Neatwit's attack just barely sliced through Gurdan's armour and gave him a light cut on his chest.
Gurdan reeled backward from the force of Neatwit's sword strike, his senses screaming danger. The raw power of the guildmaster was nothing short of overwhelming, making the tiger beastman painfully aware of his disadvantage. But Gurdan wasn't one to give up easily. He had survived countless battles under the tutelage of the Mercenary King Avans. If he couldn't win this fight, he would at least try to escape.
His amber eyes flicked around the battlefield, searching for an opening, a chance to retreat. But every time he tried to put some distance between himself and Neatwit, the guildmaster was on him like a shadow, denying him any opportunity of escape.
[Tiger's Sprint]
Gurdan invoked his special ability, his form blurring with speed, attempting to break away from Neatwit's relentless pursuit. But the guildmaster was one step ahead, his own special move coming into play.
[ First Bind]
Neatwit countered, his magical power stretching out to ensnare Gurdan, pulling him back into their deadly dance. The beastman snarled, but he couldn't break free.
Neatwit was a tier7 warrior, a god only second to a monarch and the gap in their strength was becoming increasingly apparent.
Every sword exchange left Gurdan on the backfoot, and every attempt to flee was ruthlessly cut short by Neatwit.
There was a cruel amusement in the guildmaster's eyes, as if he was enjoying the chase, Gurdan was allowing him to test his newly gained speed against a slower opponent, letting him understand his limits perfectly.
Each clash of their swords rang out across the battlefield, a testament to the intense struggle between the two powerhouses.
But the deadly dance was all in Neatwit's favour, his strength and skills dominating the duel.
Not only was Gurdan overpowered, but he was also outmanoeuvred as Neatwits swordsmanship proved to be far superior to anything he had ever faced.
Although Gurdan could never bring himself to admit it, the fighting style of the guildmaster of the elites might have been superior to his master too.
As Gurdan found himself backed into a corner, a sense of desperation filled him. His attempts at escape had been futile, and his strength was waning. All the while, Neatwit advanced, his sword raised for the final blow, his eyes glinting with the thrill of the chase.
The message was clear: there was no escape for Gurdan.
**********
( Meanwhile on the Southern Battlefront )
The southern battlefield was in turmoil as Natasha and her Ocean Leviathans pursued the retreating third legion of the Bloodfall clan. Their cries of victory echoed across the field, confident in their approaching triumph.
Just as victory seemed certain, a new presence asserted itself. From the swirling chaos of battle, a figure emerged, a nimbus of raw energy emanating from him.
His tall, imposing form commanded attention, an aura of palpable power around him. This was the 'Master of Chaos', a Tier 6 god from the True Elites guild.
Brandishing a gleaming glaive, he descended onto the battlefield, halting the Ocean Leviathans in their tracks. Natasha, recognizing the formidable arrival, squared her shoulders and faced him.
"And who the hell are you?" She called out, trying to hide the uncertainty in her voice.
" I am the D cup hunter " master of chaos said with a smile on his face as he shamelessly checked out the goods on Natasha's chest.
With a swift movement, he was upon her, his glaive swinging in a deadly arc. Natasha, taken aback by his speed, barely had time to parry his attack.
Their duel was fierce and quick
[Trident Surge]
Natasha unleashed her special move, hoping to drive him back. But the Master of Chaos countered with an attack of his own.
[Chaos Riposte]
His glaive cut through the air, slashing at Natasha and negating her move. The clash of their power sent shockwaves across the battlefield.
"For the sin of having D cups, you will fall today," the Master of Chaos declared, his eyes unwavering from her tits.
[Abyssal Torrent]
Natasha cried, the battlefield shaking with the might of her move. But the Master of Chaos was undeterred, readying his final strike.
[End of Chaos]
His glaive moved with lethal precision, slicing through Natasha's attack. It struck her directly, her defences crumbling under his strength.
The battlefield fell silent as Natasha's lifeless body fell. The Master of Chaos stood victorious, his glaive held high, the battlefield reflecting in his resolute eyes. His entry had thrown the battle into chaos, and his victory had cemented his place as a superior warrior.
" Line up you all, I shall personally inspect every last one of you today! " He declared as he commanded the nereids under Natasha to line up for inspection, disgusting thousands of women at once.
DarkSorrow, who was awed by the power of the master of chaos, could not help but feel like there was something wrong with his demeanour.
It wasn't just him though, every powerful guy that he knew was more or less eccentric in some way or the other, but it seemed like the eccentric behaviour of the true elites guild was centred towards pervasive actions.
The entire guild seemed to be sexually frustrated for some reason.
The tales of Jhonny English and Yume were already legendary, but to DarkSorrow it seemed like a third legend was in the making in the form of master of chaos.
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/// A/N- This bonus chapter is sponsored by patron Cervantez91 please thank him in the comments for this one ///
