Eric gasped and watched carefully as Marco approached him.

I screwed up! He thought, feeling regret gnawing at him. He had wanted to knock Mike unconscious with that kick, not send him flying away. The rush of the fight and the adrenaline had made him forget his original goal. And now his plan to capture him before the others could react had backfired.

I didn't expect him to intervene so soon.

The fight had lasted longer than he intended, especially after Mike had suddenly become too strong when that blue aura had surrounded him, making it difficult for him to defend himself. The others must also have seen him gaining the advantage over their colleague and decided to interfere.

Step by step, Marco approached him until he stopped at a considerable distance.

"Before we begin, I'm gonna give you one more chance, so don't waste it," Marco said. "Surrender without resistance, and I promise you won't be harmed."

Eric remained silent, his thoughts racing as he carefully weighed the pros and cons of Marco's offer. There was no doubt in his mind that Marco was much stronger. He had seen how much fear he had instilled in Mike with just a few words, completely silencing the hot-blooded fighter.

He wasn't sure about the exact difference in strength between Rank 1 and Rank 2, but he was sure it wasn't insignificant; otherwise, Mike wouldn't be so afraid of Marco.

Despite his almost equal fight with Mike, He had suffered numerous serious injuries. Without the healing orb, he might have collapsed or even died. However, the orb had also weakened him to the point where he could barely stand.

Considering his current weakened state and Marco's superior strength, He lacked confidence in his ability to win. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he could last another minute if he suffered further injuries.

After a long period of silence, He finally opened his mouth.

"Will you let me go?" Eric asked, his voice weary and hoarse. Even talking consumed some of his energy.

"No!" Marco shook his head firmly. "Like I said, you're coming with us to headquarters."

"Hehe, then you can't keep your promise."

Despite Marco's 'generous' offer, Eric had already made up his mind to fight until his last breath. However, he didn't give his answer right away, and instead, he decided to chat and stall for time, as it would allow him to regain some of his strength.

"No offense, but even though you're a rank 2 and strong, I don't think you'll have any opinion or say in the matter after you hand me over to headquarters."

From Thomas' journal, He remembered reading how Thomas was surrounded by many people from the Dark Guild who had higher ranks than Marco. These people might still be at the so-called headquarters.

The reason they had approached Thomas was because he had a system similar to him, and he was the only one who could get the purple orb out of the dungeon. Now that he had the orb in his possession if he went to the headquarters, he might encounter members of the Dark Guild. He wasn't sure if they would be able to detect that he possessed the orb, even though it was fused to him, but he wasn't willing to risk it.

Even though Thomas' system had unknown potential and was a great asset, they still betrayed him and were willing to kill him to get the orb. Therefore, Eric wasn't willing to take the risk of contacting those individuals from the Dark Guild, at least not until he was much stronger.

"Sigh, it looks like you don't appreciate my generosity," Marco sighed. "Fine, then have it your way. You'll understand how generous I was after you've suffered a little."

When Marco took a step forward, Eric immediately tensed. Without wasting time on useless thoughts, he grabbed the handle of the hammer stuck in the wall and yanked it out, causing stones to fall to the ground.

The hammer felt a little heavy in his hands, making him wonder how Mike was able to swing it so much without getting tired. He gripped the handle with both hands and held the weapon in front of him.

He watched carefully as Marco slowly walked towards him with a relaxed posture, showing no tension in his body, as if they weren't about to engage in a deadly fight, not even bothering to draw his sword.

Is he underestimating me?

After witnessing the fight between him and Mike, Marco must have judged him to have the same level of strength and placed him at rank 1. And considering that he was ranked 2, he must not have felt any threat from Eric.

Good. Eric didn't feel frustrated or angry about being underestimated; instead, he was glad.

Underestimating me is a good sign. It means he would make mistakes because of his ego–His train of thought was abruptly interrupted when he noticed that Marco, who had been slowly approaching, suddenly disappeared from his vision. His pupils dilated, and his body tensed.

Where is he? Where?!

He clenched the handle, his head darting from side to side, searching for any sign of the enemy.

How could he suddenly disappear? Is it the effect of a skill?!

Suddenly, Eric felt danger bells ringing in front of him. He didn't know if it was an illusion or the effect of his heightened perception, but he decided to trust his instincts.

He raised the hammer in front of him just in time when a fist suddenly appeared and slammed into him. Fortunately, he positioned his weapon to intercept the blow, but even though he managed to block the attack, the impact still reverberated through his body.

A powerful force traveled from his elbow to the tip of his shoulder, launching him sliding across the floor until he crashed into the wall.

"Agh!" He groaned as he slammed into the wall, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Cracks spread like cobwebs through the wall from the impact.

What the heck just happened?

He felt dizzy, his vision blurred, and pain spread through his body like an electric current before he felt a familiar heat coursing through his body.

Was I really injured just by the impact?

He was sure that he had blocked the blow, but the force behind it was so strong that it threw him into the wall.

Shaking his head a little, his vision cleared after a while. The first thing he saw was the dented hilt, almost to the point of breaking.

His eyes widened, but before he could process the situation, he felt a shadowy figure towering over him.

"What is it... Is this all you've got?" Marco said, looking down at him.

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When did he-?!

Marco didn't let him collect his thoughts. He grabbed his face with one hand and lifted him.

"I thought you were stronger than this," he said flatly, without a hint of emotion on his face, then slammed him into the wall.

Eric felt his skull crack from the sheer force behind his grip.

"You were cocky when you fought with Mike earlier; where's that confidence now?" He said.

Eric grabbed Marco's outstretched hand and tried to pull it away from his face but to no avail. It felt like he was trying to bend some unbreakable steel, and the more he struggled, the tighter Marco's grip became.

After several failed attempts to free himself and feeling his skull about to crack, he resorted to punching and kicking with all the force he could muster. The blows landed on Marco's chest and face, but it felt like hitting a boulder—too hard, and Eric felt like he was hurting himself instead of his opponent.

Marco didn't seem to react to the attacks, or perhaps he didn't feel them at all. Instead, he smirked down at Eric.

"Glad to see you still have some fighting spirit, but..." Marco released the grip on his face before buried his knee in his stomach, causing him to spit out a mouthful of blood and gasp for air as it was sucked out of his lungs. His eyes widened as the pain spread through his body, but Marco didn't give him time to react and followed up with a right hook to the face and a powerful left punch to the body, breaking who knows how many ribs. "That's not enough."

Without the strength to stand, Eric slumped down the wall and collapsed to the floor, his head hanging low.

***

Marco stood before the bloodied man and didn't continue to attack after noticing him collapsed on the ground. He just wordlessly stared down at him for a while.

"The fight... was boring," he clicked his tongue and relaxed his clenched fists.

After witnessing the fight between Mike and this impostor and the courage he showed even after offering him a chance to surrender, Marco had hoped that he would at least last in front of him for a while and entertain him. But in the end, he was disappointed, as the man couldn't even last a minute.

Seeing that he showed no signs of waking up, Marco turned away and went back to his subordinates. There was no reason for him to waste time on this weakling.

After taking a few steps, he noticed Hawk pulling out his bow and aiming an arrow—not at him, but at...

"Bastard! Where do you think you're going?" A hoarse voice rang behind him, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes widened briefly, and his expression morphed to one of surprise before returning to calm as he turned to face the source of the voice.

He saw the weakling he had beaten without any resistance slowly standing up, using the wall for support, his face covered in blood.

"What is this... You're still awake," Marco said casually, but inwardly he was surprised. He was sure that he had used some of his strength to beat him up. When he banged his head against the wall, he fully intended to crack his skull and knock him unconscious. But here he was, standing in front of him, seemingly unharmed. Not what you'd expect from someone with a cracked skull.

"You're a resilient one, aren't you?"

The man struggled to his feet, using the wall for support. He wiped the blood from his face before looking at him.

"Not at all..." He spat blood and grinned, showing his bloodied teeth. "It's just that you hit like a little girl."

Hearing his words, a vein pulsed in Marco's forehead. "I see you still have the luxury to joke," he said, a dangerous smile creeping across his face and a gleam flashing through his eyes. "Let's see how long that lasts."

"Stand down, Hawk," Marco waved his hand. "I'll take care of this joker myself."

Hawk lowered his bow without a word and watched the fight. Mike grinned next to him, apparently enjoying seeing the man who had beaten him suffer.

Marco stepped forward and approached his opponent, but as he got closer, he saw the weakling throw the hammer aside and step forward.

Huh, what's the meaning of this? Why did he abandon his weapon all of a sudden?

He watched as the weakling stood in a strange posture, both hands raised in front of him with palms wide open, legs spread across the floor, and stance lowered.

Huh, what's up with that stance. Marco thought a bit. Is it a martial art?

He observed the man, considering the possibility. Was he really one of those crazy martial artists?

He and Hawk had already suspected that this man was unable to use Mana during his fight with Mike. They had heard stories of ordinary people who couldn't use mana, but they refused to accept their ordinariness. These people relied on Essence Stones to strengthen their bodies and trained in martial arts, eventually gaining enough strength to face monsters without losing.

However, relying on Essence Stones had its own risks. If they used too many Essence Stones and their bodies weren't strong enough to handle the energy inside, they would explode. It was a dangerous gamble, but for some, the desire to transcend their limitations outweighed the risks.

That would explain his strength even without using mana, but in his fight against Mike, he didn't use that stance. Was he holding back? Marco thought about it for a moment.

Whatever he was thinking, it's no use. He concluded, dismissing the thought. And kicked the ground dashed towards the man.

Even though unarmed combat isn't my forte, it doesn't matter because I'm superior to him in every way. Marco thought, confident in his strength as he closed the distance between them.

He was in front of his opponent in no time and threw a barrage of punches, but to his surprise, his opponent effortlessly dodged and weaved through his blows with fluid movements, almost as if he were dancing. Not only did his blows miss, but the man grabbed Marco's wrist and directed his own blows at his head. He groaned as his own powerful fists landed on his face.

Surprised by the unexpected counterpunches from a seemingly almost collapsed man, Marco jumped back and created some distance between them.

He stared at the man as he resumed the same weird posture, but Marco noticed a faint smile creeping across his face.

Is this bastard happy that he managed to hit me?

Marco spat out the blood in his mouth and looked at the man in front of him.

“Interesting..." Marco could feel a grin slowly creeping across his face. "Guess this won't be boring after all."