Arknights: I'm Pretty Strong With Minecraft — Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Radiant Knight and the Broken Game

The moment Mephisto’s saccharine voice faded, the shadowy treeline behind him erupted. A massive tide of Reunion Movement soldiers poured out from the gloom, their masked faces and rusted blades catching the dim, apocalyptic light.

The twisted smile on Mephisto’s face stretched even wider, splitting his features into a mask of pure malice. He addressed the cornered Rhodes Island Operators with a sickeningly lighthearted lilt. “The rules are quite simple, really. My little friends here have only one mission: to tear you all to pieces!”

His crimson eyes swept over the shocked and furious faces of the Rhodes Island vanguard.

“And as for you—kill them, and then survive. How about it? Isn’t it simple yet exciting?” He tilted his head, a radiant, utterly psychotic smile blooming on his face. “Even if only one of you is left breathing, you win!”

“You…!” Amiya stepped forward, her voice trembling with anger. “The Catastrophe is about to descend! There’s no time left for this!”

Beside her, Instructor Dobermann and Ace’s eyes sharpened into dangerous slits. Weapons raised, they instantly shifted into a defensive combat stance, ready to hold the line against the surging mob.

Clang!

A clear, resonant chime rang out, so sharp it felt as though it could slice straight through a soul.

The Blade of Slaughter in Ivan’s hand was unsheathed. There was no dazzling flash of heroic light, only a deep, pitch-black saber glow that seemed to actively devour the illumination around it.

The very second the blade cleared its scabbard, Ivan’s figure blurred. Like a ghost glitching through reality, he merged into the dense swarm of Reunion soldiers charging their position.

He was fast. Unbelievably, impossibly fast.

It was a speed that defied the physical limits of Terra. Ivan’s movements left only fragmented afterimages on everyone’s retinas, accompanied by fleeting, precise, and deadly arcs of absolute black. There was no violent clash of steel, no drawn-out struggle, and not a single agonizing scream from the enemy ranks.

It took only an instant.

When Ivan’s phantom-like figure finally materialized a few steps in front of Mephisto, he casually lowered the Blade of Slaughter. A deep, freezing chill radiated from the dark metal as he pointed the tip toward the dirt.

The overwhelming Reunion encirclement from mere seconds ago had vanished. The ground was now entirely carpeted with unconscious or dead soldiers, lying haphazardly in the dirt like discarded toys.

Ivan looked up, his expression thoroughly unimpressed. “You’re right. This is indeed a simple game.” He paused, flicking a speck of dust off his shoulder. “It ended way too quickly. Almost boring.”

“No… impossible…”

Mephisto’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. The smug, radiant facade shattered, leaving his face completely distorted by extreme, venomous rage. He stared wildly at the motionless pawns littering the ground.

He let out a hysterical, throat-tearing roar. “Get up! You trash! Get up for me! Kill them all! Do you hear me?! Kill them all!!!”

He stomped his boots frantically into the dirt, pointing a shaking finger at Ivan. His voice went shrill, cracking under the weight of his fury. “You! How dare you… how dare you ruin my game… my artwork… completely!”

“Faust!” Mephisto shrieked. “Kill him for me! Now! Tear him to shreds!”

A heavy crossbow bolt snapped out from the distant, fog-shrouded treetops. Its trajectory was flawless, aimed dead center at Ivan’s head.

Ivan’s eyes narrowed. By pure gamer instinct, he reached into his `[Inventory]` to pull out a shield and block the incoming projectile.

But another figure was even faster.

Clang—!!!

The massive crossbow bolt was violently deflected by a heavy shield, ricocheting diagonally into the dirt and blowing a small crater into the ground.

The shield-wielding figure landed with a heavy, earth-shaking thud. Brilliant golden hair fluttered in the violent air current stirred by her descent. She stood tall and unyielding, glancing back at Ivan, whom she had just shielded.

Her voice rang out, steady and brimming with power. “Are you the Doctor? I apologize for the delayed rescue! Nearl, the Radiant Knight of Kazimierz, is here to welcome you and ensure your safety!”

“Miss Nearl!” Amiya’s surprised, relieved voice called out from behind them. “Thank you for arriving in time! But…” She quickly waved her hands to explain. “That is not the Doctor! He is our new companion, Ivan!”

Just then—

Whoosh—!

A second heavy bolt snapped through the air! Faust had immediately adjusted; this time, the angle was far more cunning, aimed at a blind spot.

However, this time, Ivan didn’t even bother looking in the direction of the sniper.

With a casual, almost lazy flick of his wrist—

Clang!

A black saber glow, even deeper and swifter than before, flashed across the space in front of him as if the attack itself had teleported. It looked as though something invisible in the air had simply been deleted.

The heavy armor-piercing bolt was perfectly split down the middle by the Blade of Slaughter. The two severed halves of the arrow fluttered past Ivan’s shoulders, falling powerlessly into the dirt.

Hidden in the distant treetops, Faust’s stoic expression finally cracked into sheer disbelief.

‘Wh-…? The arrow… was split?!’Faust thought, his grip tightening on his crossbow.’How… how is that even possible?!’

“Mr. Ivan! Miss Nearl!” Amiya called out. “The wounded have already been organized by Ace and Instructor Dobermann! They are being evacuated to the designated withdrawal point!”

Suddenly, the battlefield shifted. The Reunion soldiers on the ground—the ones who had been cleanly cut down by Ivan and should have been completely incapacitated—began to twitch violently.

Like broken marionettes pulled by invisible strings, they shakily stood up one by one. Their eyes were entirely vacant, glowing with a sickly, unnatural light.

Ivan muttered a harsh Ursus curse under his breath. “Mephisto’s Originium Arts are seriously annoying.”

He adjusted his grip on his pitch-black sword, ready to sweep the mob a second time. But a steady, strong hand, clad in heavy knight’s armor, clamped down on his wrist.

Nearl looked at him, her golden eyes serious. “Ivan, there are still wounded evacuating behind us! We can’t afford to get entangled here. Retreat!” She raised her massive shield forward, acting as an impenetrable wall to cover their withdrawal.

“Heh… what an utterly boring game.” Ivan scoffed, kicking the twitching corpse of a soldier at his feet with clear disgust before turning to follow the knight.

As the Rhodes Island group vanished into the fog, Faust dropped down from the canopy, landing silently beside his commander.

“Mephisto, I’m sorry. I missed.”

Faust’s gaze instinctively drifted to the spot where Ivan had split his second shot. Two snipes. One blocked by the sudden arrival of the Radiant Knight, and the other casually cleaved in half by the target without so much as a glance.

Mephisto slowly turned his head to look at his oldest companion. Unexpectedly, the manic rage had vanished from his face, replaced by a chilling, hollow calm. There was no blame or mockery in his eyes.

“It’s alright, Faust. You don’t need to apologize.”

His voice was quiet, heavily suppressing a surging, venomous malice. “It’s all those guys’ fault. Especially that one named Ivan!”

Far away, sprinting through the ruins, Ivan casually swiped away a floating system prompt that perfectly summarized his thoughts on the encounter: `[If you’re bad, practice more. If you can’t lose, don’t play.]`

Back in the clearing, just the mere mention of that name caused Mephisto’s fingers to tighten abruptly, his nails digging into his own palms.

“He ruined my stage! Ruined my fun! In such… a vulgar way!”

Mephisto recalled the soldiers falling in a single instant, the strange, light-devouring black saber, and the impossible sharpness that had split Faust’s arrow. All of it had completely exceeded the script of his perfect ‘game,’ leaving him with a burning, unmatched sense of humiliation.

“Hmph!” Mephisto suddenly flung his hand out, turning his back on the retreating path.

“Never mind. Let Sister Talulah deal with it,” he said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. “‘The amnesiac Doctor’? Now, there’s also this ‘interesting’ new toy…”