"Oh? Story cutscene already? Hope it's not some clichéd plot about saving villagers from bandits."
Cloud's lips curled as his figure flickered, vanishing instantly from the spot.
The luxury buffet of the Samurai Shodown world had apparently officially begun.
Cloud's movement method, if explained scientifically, would probably be "sub-light-speed short-distance spatial jumping," but in his own words, it was just "walking a bit faster."
One second he was being a "forest wanderer" in the primeval woods; the next, he was already standing on a hillside overlooking the battlefield.
The scene before him actually piqued the interest of a heart that had been spoiled by divine-level fights in the KOF world.
Below the hillside lay a village, more than half of it burned.
Broken walls smoldered with black smoke. The air reeked of burning and heavy blood.
A group of ragged villagers fled in terror, and what pursued them wasn't the bandits or ronin Cloud had imagined.
These were... creatively designed creatures.
Some looked like zombies from a B-grade horror movie—slow-moving but immensely strong, wielding rusty farm tools.
Others resembled humanoid lizards, covered in dark green scales, forked tongues flicking from their mouths with hissing sounds.
Still others were drifting black mist. Wherever they passed, plants withered. Any living person touched would instantly lose their vitality, becoming a desiccated corpse.
"Wow, that's some biodiversity," Cloud commented, stroking his chin with interest. "Zombies, lizardmen, and these... coal-ball things? Isn't this just a budget version of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons? This is Amakusa's demon army? Feels like they couldn't even beat Rugal's cleaning staff."
Just as he was about to go down and "clear the mobs," a nimble white figure caught his eye.
It was a young woman.
She wore ethnic clothing in primarily red and white, looking like a priestess from some minority tribe.
Her long black silky hair was tied back with a simple red ribbon, tracing elegant arcs through the air as she moved.
Her features were as delicate as a snow mountain spirit, but her clear, pool-like eyes now burned with anxious determination.
Her weapon was a short blade, though she rarely used it. More often, she wove through the demon horde using incredible speed and martial arts. Her movements were impossibly light—not fighting so much as dancing with the wind.
Accompanying her was a magnificent guardian hawk.
The hawk was pure white with an impressive wingspan. Each dive and talon strike precisely tore open a demon's throat or gouged out their eyes, forming a perfect "air-ground coordinated combat system" with the girl.
"Flowing Wind!"
With a clear cry, the girl transformed into a white whirlwind, sweeping up several approaching lizardmen. When the wind subsided, the lizardmen lay scattered on the ground, incapacitated but not dead.
However, there were simply too many demons.
The moment she finished one group, more poured from the village ruins, including a minotaur standing nearly three meters tall, muscles bulging grotesquely, wielding a massive spiked club.
"MOOOO!"
The minotaur let out an ear-splitting roar. Its enormous club descended toward the girl's head, trailing a malicious wind that tore through the air.
This strike was so powerful it could probably flatten a small car into a pancake.
The girl's face paled. She tried to leap backward, but having just expended too much energy protecting a child behind her, her movement showed a barely perceptible hesitation.
The guardian hawk let out a shrill cry, diving recklessly at the minotaur's eyes in a desperate rescue attempt.
But it was too late.
The club's shadow had already completely engulfed the girl's petite form.
The villagers screamed in despair.
A flash of resolve crossed the girl's eyes. She shielded the child behind her and raised her short blade, preparing to take this fatal blow head-on.
At that critical moment—
"I say, miss, need some help? You don't really look like you need it, but I think occasionally accepting others' goodwill is also a virtue."
A somewhat lazy, teasing voice sounded in the girl's ear without warning.
The girl froze. That voice was so familiar!
She instinctively turned her head, and then she saw a sight she would never forget.
A man in strange "pajamas" and "slippers" had somehow appeared in front of her.
His back was to her. His build wasn't particularly imposing, yet he stood like an insurmountable mountain, completely separating her from the deadly threat.
He didn't even turn around. He simply raised his right hand casually, extending two fingers—index and middle.
And that spiked club capable of splitting mountains was caught with effortless ease.
Ding.
A crisp sound, like jade stones striking together.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.
The violent wind pressure stopped abruptly. The dust it had kicked up formed an invisible barrier behind him—not a single speck reached the girl.
The minotaur's dinner-plate-sized eyes filled with incredulous terror.
It strained with all its might to pull back the club or push it down even an inch, but those two white, slender fingers held it like iron pincers forged by the gods—utterly immovable.
"Not bad strength. Too bad the brain doesn't work as well."
The man offered a mild critique, then applied slight pressure with his fingers.
CRACK!
The spiked club, forged from fine iron and covered in spikes, began shattering from where it was pinched—crumbling like a cookie under a hydraulic press, iron fragments flying everywhere.
SPLURT!
The minotaur spewed blood from the recoil, its massive body sent flying backward, crashing through a ruined house and falling unconscious on the spot.
Dead silence.
Every villager, every demon, even the guardian hawk circling above—all stopped moving, staring dumbly at this man whose style was bizarre yet whose power defied reason.
"Done. See, told you it was simple."
The man dusted his hands of nonexistent dirt and turned around, meeting the girl's eyes—eyes filled with shock, confusion, and a deep, unmistakable joy.
He had neat black hair, a handsome face, and a perpetual hint of a mischievous smile at the corner of his lips.
Those deep eyes seemed able to see through hearts, now looking at her with familiar warmth.
"Long time no see, Nakoruru." Cloud greeted her with a smile.
That's right—the shrine maiden fighting through the demon horde was none other than the nature priestess who had once been summoned to the KOF world through the System's "special talent recruitment" program, who had fought alongside Cloud and had long since given him her heart—Nakoruru!
That familiar force that had guided him here—it came from her!
...
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