I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities-Chapter 26: Ch 25. The Guardian

Mass annihilation.

That was the only way to describe what Ethan brought to the Gobkar den.

He tore through it like a natural disaster, and not a single beast—lesser or greater—was spared.

His fists, elbows, knees, and the occasional stolen blade became instruments of destruction.

Each blow broke bodies, shattered bone, and smeared the cavern walls with green blood and shattered pride.

He didn't discriminate.

Weak or strong, small or massive—every Gobkar received his wrath equally.

Because there was enough of Ethan's fury to go around.

The only downside?

He was getting bored.

His steps didn't falter, but his eyes had long lost their light.

No beast had managed to land a blow, no challenge had made his blood boil the way it did in the sanctum.

Even as he drove his arm through the chest of a Greater Gobkar, ripping out its still-pulsing heart, he couldn't help but sigh.

"How long will it take till I reach the pit?" he muttered, letting the steaming organ fall to the ground like garbage.

As he moved forward.

Through stone corridors littered with twitching limbs and severed heads.

Through slaughtered patrols and clusters of Gobkars too terrified to flee or fight.

He just kept walking.

Because Ethan knew—the pit would be at the center.

Every den was built around one.

The moment a black pit opened and began spewing out Dread beasts, the den formed itself like a parasite wrapping around a wound.

So he headed for the heart.

And then—he found it.

The moment he stepped into the epicenter, he knew.

The air shifted.

It was heavier, thicker and alien.

The aura here was chaotic, and the very air felt like it was pressing down on his skin like wet cloth soaked in poison.

It was like stepping into a different realm—one that rejected his very existence.

A silent tension clung to everything, a pressure that made even Ethan pause.

Then—he saw it.

The Black pit.

A silent black pond, resting calmly on the den floor like a pool of living void.

It didn't ripple, didn't pulse, didn't move—and that was the problem.

Ethan's instincts screamed.

He didn't know why. But he knew—that thing should not exist.

His hand twitched. His eyes narrowed.

"Tch... I really wanna destroy it."

Then—

"Wait... how do I even destroy it?"

His brow furrowed.

His mission had only been to clean up the den and eliminate the remaing Dreads.

Closing the pit wasn't part of the job.

He sighed.

"Now I feel embarrassed for what I said earlier."

With a flick of his wrist, he tapped his communicator, pulling up the Hero Guidebook.

A few swipes later—he found it.

Black Pit Closure Protocol: Requires Collapser.

He blinked.

"A collapser?" He paused, then scoffed. "Where the hell am I supposed to get one of those?"

A collapser was a bomb like device used by heroes.

when it was Thrown into a pit, it compressed the dimensional rift until it collapsed on itself, sealing the breach.

As he was contemplating if there was another way to close the Black Pit.

His Instinct suddenly kicked in.

As He vanished from his spot just as a massive shadow dropped like a meteor.

The impact shook the den, kicking up dust and rubble in a violent shockwave.

Ethan landed cleanly, his eyes focused.

And then he saw it.

The Guardian.

Every den had one.

A final gatekeeper. The strongest beast of them all, tasked with protecting the pit at all costs.

This one was a behemoth.

As large as an elephant, its frame was dense with corded muscle and lined with battle scars.

It had long, filthy black hair draped over its shoulders and back, and from its lower jaw, two enormous tusks jutted out like curved daggers.

Its eyes burned red and it's skin was green, just like the others—but deeper and older.

It wore a helmet fashioned from the skull of some ancient beast and its body was covered only by a tattered loincloth.

But what truly caught Ethan's attention was the weapon.

A massive battle axe, too large for most creatures to even lift—yet the Guardian held it with ease.

It snarled, eyes locking on Ethan.

It could smell the blood of its kin on him—hundreds of them.

And because of that it didn't just want to kill Ethan.

It wanted to erase him.

Ethan grinned.

The first real smile in hours.

"Hope you're not just big for nothing..." he said, his tone almost excited. "Because the others were Total disappointments as they Couldn't even last a minute."

His hands curled into fists.

That familiar battle-hungry grin stretched across his face.

Then he charged.

As the Guardian roared, lifting its massive axe and charging back—

Two monsters, one born of muscle, the other of madness—colliding like titans at the heart of the pit.

****

Radiant Striker led his unit through the winding tunnels of the Gobkar den, the soft hum of his radiant armor casting golden light along the jagged stone walls.

The deeper they went, the more unsettling the silence became—until it was broken not by screams, but by the evidence of devastation.

Everywhere they looked, there was carnage.

Headless corpses. Crushed skulls. Severed limbs.

Blood soaked the ground like spilled paint, and the walls were painted with viscera in ways that made even veteran heroes hesitate.

Then one of the younger heroes broke the silence.

"Was... was this done by a human?"

Nobody answered.

They couldn't.

Because the thought alone was disturbing.

The way these Dread beasts had been killed—it didn't feel like the work of a trained professional.

No elegance. No precision.

This was something else.

This was animalistic. Savage. The way a rabid beast would tear through prey just for the thrill.

Radiant Striker narrowed his eyes.

He didn't respond to the question either. Instead, he said:

"Stay at high alert. We're almost at the center."

His tone was steady, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his concern.

The heroes all drew their weapons, cloaks swaying, eyes scanning every shadow. They moved forward in practiced formation—until they reached the epicenter.

And then, they froze.

Every jaw dropped.

The scene before them looked like something out of a twisted legend.

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A young man, barehanded, was locked in deadly combat with a beast ten times his size.

The creature—the Guardian—was a monstrous titan, swinging a massive battle axe that could level a building.

And yet...

The young man was smiling.

No—he was grinning like a mad barbarian, every muscle in his body moving with brutal grace.

Each time their blows met, shockwaves erupted, shaking the very structure of the den and cracking the stone beneath their feet.

The Guardian's face was twisted—not with bloodlust, but with frustration.

It couldn't understand why this smaller creature wouldn't just die.

The heroes stood frozen in awe.

One of them, still glued to the battle, finally spoke.

"Sir... what should we do?"

Radiant Striker didn't respond at first.

He, too, had been stunned into silence, caught between disbelief and admiration.

Then, he finally composed himself, voice calm but firm:

"For now... we watch. If anything goes wrong—we offer assistance."

But in his mind, thoughts swirled faster than his composed tone would suggest.

"This is far beyond what I expected..."

His eyes gleamed with new interest as the battle raged before him.

"No matter what... I must make him join our clan."

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A/N will release an extra Chapter if I get 50 power stones.

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