Floating Island - Triple S Talent

...

Holas, with his claws glowing in black light, slaughtered the nearest Faithwardens. He easily wiped them out since the attackers were only Tier-2, and with a single slash combined with his strengthening skill, their lives vanished before him.

"Damn it... take this!" A pale-faced man shouted loudly. His hands formed an O shape, creating a powerful sphere of light energy. After gathering enough power, the sphere shot toward Holas, who was in the midst of killing his companions.

Pofff...

Like a water balloon hitting a wall, the sphere of light had no effect on Holas.

Sigh...

Holas was undisturbed, but he could sense the source of the attack. He quickly turned his head, locking his gaze on the man who had just hurled the sphere at him.

Feeling Holas's gaze, the man trembled in fear. With all his might, he turned around and ran as fast as he could. His body glowed white, activating a skill that enhanced his speed.

"Cursed Claw," Holas murmured as he activated his ranged skill.

The moment the (Cursed Claw) took effect, the fleeing man felt excruciating pain in his chest, as if a merciless hand was squeezing his heart. "Damn it, what's happening to me?" he muttered bitterly, the agony evident in his voice.

Dugh...

He fell to his knees. "My chest... it hurts... agh..."

The man groaned for the last time before his body collapsed lifelessly to the ground. Seeing his comrade fall, many other foreign attackers tried to flee, distancing themselves from the terrifying Holas.

"Lord Holas, I'm here!" A man with a long spear descended from the sky into the middle of the foreign attackers. Activating his spear dance, he filled a 10-meter radius with fierce spear strikes and a powerful aura.

"Don't let them breach the defenses and enter the walls!" shouted a man with a massive shield. Raising it high, he slammed it down forcefully, creating a 5-meter-high, 30-meter-long barrier to block the foreign attackers from entering.

"Everyone, prepare!"

A captain on the walls gave the order to the soldiers manning the wall cannons and defense weapons. About 50 weapons were operated by the soldiers.

"Fire!"

At the given command, the soldiers pulled the triggers, and the cannons unleashed their volleys upon the foreign attackers from the wall.

Duar...

Boom...

Thunderous explosions erupted, each cannon strike devastating the attacking forces with ease.

The attackers did not sit idle against the barrage. A middle-aged man raised a large barrier, blocking the cannonballs from reaching his subordinates.

Elsewhere, a group leader aimed his firearm at the incoming cannonballs with remarkable precision.

Dor...

Dor...

Each shot detonated the cannonballs mid-air. After the explosions, only remnants of the cannonballs fell, dealing no damage to the attackers in the area.

Holas, noticing the arrival of reinforcements and the support from the wall's towers, felt his heart burn with renewed spirit. His previously unshakable resolve was now fueled by the sight of his comrades raising their weapons high and charging fearlessly into the enemy.

"Thank you," Holas muttered sincerely.

He had already prepared to die and never expected his subordinates to risk their lives alongside him. But here they were, fighting by his side until the bitter end.

Just as Holas was lost in thought, a sword suddenly came at him.

Tang...

The sword was swift and long, slashing diagonally from the side. With lightning reflexes, Holas dodged to the left and stepped back slightly. He then looked at the old man standing before him.

The most striking feature of the old man was the white halo floating behind him, exuding a powerful magical aura that captivated anyone who looked at it. In his right hand, the old man wielded a transparent sword, its white energy burning within.

Judging by the old man's immaculate white robe, Holas sensed that this was one of the group leaders and a Tier-3 being.

Holas quickly checked the old man's status panel.

[Status]

- Name: Jen

- Race: Nimbarin

- Power Core: Faithwarden

- Rank: Holy Disciple (Tier-3)

"So, this old man is Tier-3," Holas muttered seriously. The color of his claws shifted to a fiery red, and his energy surged noticeably.

"You're rather arrogant for someone with such weak power."

The old man spoke with a mocking tone, his relaxed stance showing no signs of aggression.

Holas smirked and calmly replied, "What's the matter? Try if you can." He was stalling for time, hoping reinforcements from other allies would arrive.

"Why don't you join me? With your strength, you could become someone important," the old man offered, trying to persuade Holas to switch sides. With Holas's power, it wasn't impossible for him to become a team leader.

"Like you? You're nothing but a lapdog."

Holas didn't hold back, voicing his thoughts without restraint. He didn't care if the old man got angry—his disdain for these people was evident in his piercing gaze.

"Hahaha... A stupid race like yours deserves that name."

"You can't even recognize the benefits right in front of you."

The old man's taunting laughter made Holas itch to attack, but he restrained himself. He needed to conserve as much energy as possible. His attention remained on another Tier-3 being some distance away.

"Come at me if you dare," Holas challenged, unwilling to make the first move.

The old man squinted, as if understanding Holas's intentions. But he remained still, showing no signs of launching an attack.

"Go... deal with that man first, then come back to me," the old man said clearly, gesturing toward the distant Tier-3 figure before turning back to Holas.

Holas wasn't surprised by the old man's behavior. Although both were foreign attackers, it seemed they had different factions or interests, naturally leading to competition.

As Holas pondered whether to attack the other Tier-3 being or keep watch over the old man, he noticed many of his soldiers being killed by the enemy groups.

Not far away, he saw a man with a bow in hand running with all his might, only to stop abruptly as he was ambushed by a nearby attacker.