Rise Of The Villain : In a World Ruled By Anomalies-Chapter 29 : Overwhelmed

Marco and Arlo stood several meters away from Arthur, gripping their weapons so tightly that their knuckles had turned pale.

The ruined street of the dungeon gate stretched around them—broken pillars leaning at dangerous angles, shattered windows of ancient buildings staring down like hollow eyes.

A faint crimson glow bled from the sky above, bathing everything in a dim, hellish light. Dust drifted lazily through the air, disturbed only by the subtle tremor of killing intent that pressed down on the street like an invisible weight.

Sweat dripped from Marco’s temple, sliding down the side of his face and falling onto the cracked dungeon floor. It sizzled faintly against the warm stone infused with residual mana.

Arlo’s breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The string of his bow creaked as his fingers trembled slightly against it.

His pupils were dilated, locked onto Arthur as though staring at a venomous snake coiled and ready to strike.

The air between them felt heavy.

Thick.

Like the moment before a thunderstorm splits the sky apart.

Marco’s jaw clenched as he stared directly at Arthur.

"You knew, didn’t you?" Marco said, his voice low and strained. "You knew we were going to kill you."

Arlo swallowed.

"You’ve been pretending all along, haven’t you?" he added. "Keeping up that innocent act to catch us off guard."

Arthur looked at them calmly.

His breathing was steady.

His posture relaxed.

Then he smiled.

It wasn’t a wide grin.

It was small.

Sharp.

"Bull’s-eye," Arthur said lightly. "What? You really thought I’d be easy prey? Like the others you’ve killed before?"

Marco’s heartbeat skipped.

Arlo’s fingers tightened instinctively on the bowstring.

Arthur’s eyes sharpened, the playful glint vanishing. Something cold surfaced beneath them.

"I bet you did all of this on Jordan’s instructions."

The words hit harder than any blade.

Marco and Arlo’s breath hitched at the same time.

Their eyes widened.

For a fraction of a second—

Fear.

"How did you know that?" Arlo demanded.

Arthur suddenly burst into laughter.

It echoed strangely in the ruined street, bouncing off broken walls and empty windows.

"Oh, I didn’t know," Arthur said between chuckles. "I just guessed."

His smile widened slowly.

"But you two just admitted it yourselves."

He tilted his head slightly.

"You people really are idiots."

Marco’s face twisted in rage. Veins bulged along his forehead.

Arthur casually pointed toward his chest.

There, clipped neatly onto his hoodie, was a small recording camera. A faint red light blinked steadily.

"I set this up before coming here," Arthur said calmly. "Pretty neat, right?"

Marco’s eyes went wild.

The killing intent in the air exploded.

"Arlo! Attack! Destroy that camera! Tear him to pieces!" he roared.

Arlo reacted instantly.

The bowstring snapped forward with a violent twang.

Mana surged into the arrowhead, coating it in a faint green glow as wind-elemental energy spiraled around its shaft.

The arrow shot through the air with terrifying precision, tearing a thin whistle through the silence.

Arthur barely twisted his body—

And in that exact instant—

The Voidmorph Carapace activated.

The S-rank artifact reacted automatically.

The area of his shoulder that the arrow was about to strike darkened, as if shadow itself condensed there. Black veins spread outward across his skin, then hardened instantly, layered in shifting black armor like liquid metal flowing into shape.

It pulsed faintly with a deep violet glow, ancient runes flickering across its surface for a split second.

Clang!

The arrow struck.

Sparks erupted.

The force rippled through the black armor, mana dispersing outward in visible waves before the projectile bounced off his reinforced shoulder and deflected to the ground.

Arlo froze.

His lips parted slightly.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered.

Arthur blinked in surprise, rolling his shoulder slightly.

"Wow," he muttered. "It activated automatically... it senses lethal attacks."

A cold voice echoed inside his mind.

[Focus. It will only function while you have mana. It feeds on your mana to protect you.]

[These two are higher ranked than you. You should use Berserk and end this quickly.]

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

’I can’t use Berserk or Omnicognition yet—those skills have massive cooldown times... And I have a bad feeling about Jordan. If I exhaust myself now, I’m dead later.’

Marco saw the distraction.

His combat instincts screamed.

Without hesitation, he lunged.

His movement was explosive—feet grinding against stone as he shot forward like a released spring. Mana surged along his legs, enhancing his speed.

His dagger flashed in the crimson light.

He slashed downward viciously.

Arthur raised his sword just in time.

Clang!

Steel met steel.

The impact rang sharply, sparks scattering between them like fireflies. The force traveled up Arthur’s arms painfully, rattling his bones. His fingers numbed slightly from the shock.

Marco smirked.

Their blades clashed repeatedly.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Marco’s dagger moved like a serpent—short, efficient arcs, precise thrusts aimed at arteries and weak points. His footwork was compact and balanced, his weight always centered.

Arthur struggled.

He blocked high.

Twisted low.

Barely parried a thrust aimed at his throat.

Marco twisted his wrist sharply—

The dagger slipped past Arthur’s guard.

A thin line of pain burned across his cheek.

Blood trickled down slowly.

Almost instantly, he felt it—the foreign intrusion beneath his skin. The poison seeped into his bloodstream like ice water, cold and invasive, spreading from the wound with frightening speed.

His vision blurred for half a heartbeat.

Then—

The Voidmorph Carapace responded.

A pulse of dark mana surged beneath his skin. Black veins flared faintly along his shoulder and collarbone. The spreading toxin halted abruptly, as if it had slammed into an invisible wall.

The artifact consumed his mana greedily, isolating the venom, sealing it in place, refusing to let it advance any further.

Arthur exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

Without the Voidmorph Carapace, the poison would have already reached his heart.

His eyes sharpened.

’Without this artifact... I’d be dead.’

A grin across his lips.

’Now I understand why it’s ranked S.’

As marcis was baffled as he saw that the poison was not working on him.

Instead of retreating arthur stepped forward.

He shifted his weight.

Redirecting Marco’s momentum using pure technique—borrowing the force of the dagger arm and guiding it past him.

Arthur didn’t simply push the strike away.

He rotated his hips and shifted his body off the line of attack.

His left palm pressed against Marco’s forearm at just the right angle, not resisting the force—but guiding it. His right shoulder dipped, his spine twisting fluidly as he stepped off-line. The dagger sliced through empty air, inches from where his ribs had been.

It was textbook redirection.

Not strength against strength.

But angle against angle.

A movement learned from boxing.

From hours of training inside a small gym on Earth.

Marco’s weight shifted forward.

Arthur felt it through the contact point—too much pressure on the lead foot.

Too aggressive.

Marco stumbled one step forward, boots scraping across cracked stone as his balance faltered for half a second.

That half-second was everything.

Arthur kicked off the ground hard, boots grinding against debris as he created distance. He retreated three steps in a controlled diagonal pattern, his blade coming up defensively once more.

His breathing was heavier now.

His chest rising.

Mana draining.

’I can’t drag this out... and that archer is the real problem.’

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A/N:-

Hey Guys,

Thank you for your patience and continued support. I’m excited to announce that regular updates for Rise of the Villain : In a World Ruled by Anomalies will officially resume starting today.

Stay tuned, and thank you for being part of this story.

— survivalArtist001