Chapter 3: Confrontation

The wilderness stretched endlessly, and night had already fallen. The dim moonlight barely illuminated the rugged path ahead. Carrying Alice on his back, Joshua followed the directions given by the captured mercenary, making his way toward the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps' base. "Joshua, it's already dark. How about we find a place to rest and wait until morning to move?" Alice's injury had improved significantly. Joshua had extracted the bullet with a dagger and disinfected the wound using scorpion meat, so she was no longer in immediate danger. "No. The darker the night, the better the hunt," Joshua replied calmly. He didn't turn to look at Alice, instead maintaining a steady pace forward. In an environment like this, danger could be lurking anywhere. A sudden ambush from the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps wasn't out of the question. Though Joshua's abilities had yet to recover—having fallen from the Divine Level to the Sovereign Level—he still activated what little energy he had as soon as dusk fell. This allowed him to sense disturbances in his surroundings while enhancing his vision, making the dark terrain appear as bright as day. It was frustrating. His Divine Level abilities granted him an extraordinary sensory range in his past life. He could detect even the sound of grass breaking through the soil from miles away. But now, his perception barely extended a hundred meters. He needed to find a way to regain his former strength. When Joshua finally stopped, Alice slowly opened her eyes—only to nearly gasp in shock. At some point, Joshua had carried her up into a towering tree. Less than a hundred meters below them, several large tents stood under the glow of powerful floodlights. Each tent was guarded by two heavily armed mercenaries wielding submachine guns. Beneath the tree, two corpses lay motionless, their throats slit cleanly with a dagger. Alice stared at Joshua in disbelief. She was starting to feel like she didn't know him at all. Before, he had been just a rookie, lacking the experience, courage, and skill of veterans like her. But now, the sheer strength he displayed was jaw-dropping. He had carried her all this way, silently taken out two mercenaries, and climbed a tree without her even noticing. His current abilities were on par with the legendary Three War Kings of Chanaea. "Alice, stay here and don't move. I'll take care of these mercenaries, and then we can leave," Joshua whispered. "I'll go with you," Alice insisted. She was worried that Joshua's strength alone might not be enough. No matter how impressive he seemed, their enemies were heavily armed, including elite mercenaries from the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps. She was mainly concerned about Bernard, the group's second-in-command—an extremely dangerous opponent. "No need. This is a man's game. A beautiful woman like you should sit back and enjoy the show." Before Alice could react, Joshua had already leaped from the tree. Dropping over five meters, he rolled upon landing and disappeared into the night like a flash of lightning. Alice could hardly believe her eyes. Usually, she would have punched any man who dared treat her like some delicate flower. She was known as one of the fiercest female special forces soldiers. Since Joshua had woken up, he had taken complete control of the situation. If not for him, she would have been dead. A part of her had begun to rely on and trust him. Still, his sudden transformation was baffling. Meanwhile, in the central tent of the mercenary camp, a burly, bald man toyed with a throwing knife in one hand while holding a glass of red wine in the other. His subordinates stood before him, silent and fearful. This man was Bernard, a notorious international criminal. He was furious. Moments ago, he had received a report that several of his men had been eliminated. Two Eastania special forces soldiers were still unaccounted for, which enraged him even more. "Idiots! Useless trash! You call yourselves elite mercenaries, yet you can't even take out two damn special forces soldiers? How embarrassing!" Bernard bellowed. "Mr. Scott, we're not sure what happened," one of the mercenaries stammered. "Those two weren't special at first, but their combat strength suddenly skyrocketed. Could Eastania have sent reinforcements?" Bernard shot a sharp glare at one of his subordinates. He flicked his left hand without hesitation, sending a dagger flying through the air. The blade moved so fast that, almost the moment it left his hand, it pierced straight through the man's chest. The rest of the subordinates instinctively recoiled, fear flashing in their eyes. Bernard gave a casual wave as the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps member collapsed in a pool of blood. Two other mercenaries stepped forward, grabbed the body, and dragged it out of the tent. Killing one of his own meant nothing to Bernard—there was no loss, no hesitation, not even the slightest ripple in his emotions. What truly infuriated him was the situation at hand. The ruthless smugglers running this arms deal had paid a hefty price to hire the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps for one reason—to eliminate Eastania's special forces. Over the years, Eastania's elite soldiers had been a relentless thorn in their side, repeatedly crippling smuggling operations. That success had earned them enemies, and this ambush was supposed to be the final blow. Given the high stakes, the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps commander had dispatched Bernard himself, along with ten of the group's top operatives. They had meticulously set up an ambush, catching Alice's seven-member squad off guard and dealing them a devastating blow. The plan had been to wipe them out completely. But against all odds, Alice and Joshua had managed to escape. And now, to make matters worse, another powerful force had emerged, slaughtering the elite mercenaries sent after them. It was an absolute humiliation that tarnished the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps' fearsome reputation on the international stage. Suddenly, two bodies crashed into the tent from outside, their throats slashed clean through. Bernard's eyes narrowed as he frowned, rising to his feet just as Joshua stepped in. Joshua had a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, idly twirling a bloodstained dagger in his right hand. "Who the hell are you? Eastania's special forces?" Bernard could hardly believe his eyes. He had personally hunted these soldiers down and forced them to the edge of a cliff. They should have been dead. And now, one of them dared to charge straight into his camp. "I'm the one who's going to kill you," Joshua said coldly, stepping forward without hesitation. Bernard scowled. He hadn't expected such boldness. The Eastanians had already suffered a crushing defeat. How dare they return for more? "Hah! You must have a death wish. I was thinking of hunting you down, and here you are, delivering yourself to me!" Before the words even finished leaving his mouth, Bernard moved. He was faster than any normal man, drawing his pistol smoothly, his finger tightening on the trigger. But in that split second, Joshua had already closed the distance. His fist shot forward like lightning, striking Bernard's right wrist brutally. The gun flew from Bernard's grip. "Argh!" Bernard let out a pained grunt. He hadn't expected Joshua to be this strong. His arm nearly went numb from that single punch. Bernard wasn't just any mercenary. He was the vice commander of the Crimson Fiend Mercenary Corps. Years of battle-hardened experience kicked in. Gritting his teeth, he released a sharp battle cry, launching himself into the air. His fists shot forward, striking at Joshua's vital points with incredible speed. Bernard's attacks weren't just fast. They were sheer destructive force. He wasn't the kind of man who got his hands dirty often. Even during the earlier ambush, he had let his subordinates handle the killing, deeming his direct involvement unnecessary. But Joshua's presence was different. Joshua was slightly surprised. In this lifetime, he hadn't expected to encounter anyone this skilled. He had thought true experts only emerged in the post-apocalyptic era, when Ancient Martial Sect warriors, Espers, and mutated creatures roamed the world. It seemed strength existed in every era. Bernard's rapid punches tore through the air with enough force to create sharp, cracking sounds. His fists were imbued with Force Energy, each strike powerful enough to shatter bones. As the fight dragged on, Bernard started growing impatient. For years, no one had been able to match him in combat. Even those who put up a fight never lasted more than a few punches. Yet now, despite unleashing his full strength, he still hadn't managed to land a solid hit on Joshua. With a fierce gleam in his eyes, Bernard gathered a surge of Force Energy into his fist and swung at Joshua's neck, aiming for a decisive kill. Joshua's gaze turned ice-cold. Instead of dodging, he clenched his fist and met the attack head-on. Boom! When their fists collided, Joshua staggered back two steps, his right arm tingling with numbness. On the other hand, Bernard was sent flying, crashing through the tent's fabric and landing in a heap outside. Joshua flexed his fingers, muttering, "Looks like Sovereign-level abilities aren't quite enough. There are strong fighters in every era. I need to push myself further." The commotion had drawn attention. Within seconds, a group of armed smugglers stormed into the camp, rifles raised as they opened fire on Joshua. Clutching his injured shoulder, Bernard gritted his teeth and glared at Joshua. "You're strong, I'll give you that," he spat. "But mark my words—I'll kill you with my own hands someday!"