Richard didn't continue attacking the mutant agents nearest to him after flashing away. Instead, he repositioned outside the encirclement entirely.
Before absorbing Inesa's Flash, his teleportation range had been limited to roughly one hundred meters. Now, after fusion enhancement, the effective range exceeded five hundred meters. On paper, that distance might not sound extraordinary, but in practical combat terms, it was more than sufficient to control the battlefield.
He raised the authentic sword casually.
"Residual Heart."
Six crescent-shaped blades of magic surged from the edge, ultraviolet along the rim and white at the core. They tore forward toward a formation of special forces soldiers stationed beyond the mutant perimeter.
These soldiers were handpicked by the Mutant Affairs Department from elite U.S. military units. Against ordinary criminals, they were overwhelming. Against combat-specialized mutants, they were simply well-trained targets.
The crescent blades arrived almost instantly.
Armor parted like wet paper. Bodies split cleanly. The cutting arcs didn't slow as they passed through one soldier into the next.
Six fell.
After upgrading Residual Heart to Level 2, both velocity and cutting strength had increased dramatically. Defensive vests might as well have been decorative fabric.
Richard vanished again.
Flash had become instinctual for him in combat. Continuous displacement, elimination in fragments, no sustained exposure. It was the most efficient tactical pattern available.
Gunfire erupted from different corners of the campground. Shouts followed. Then screams.
Although the mission required eliminating all mutant agents within one hour, Richard wasn't rushing to engage them directly. He preferred to remove the special forces first. Leaving them active risked long-range interference during his engagements with the mutants.
Clear the mobs.
Then the elites.
Then the boss.
The analogy amused him briefly.
Aiden and Bert quickly realized what he was doing. Unfortunately, recognizing the strategy didn't grant them the means to counter it.
Flash was not a rare X-Gene ability in theory. In practice, within the Los Angeles branch, only two individuals possessed it. One was Inesa. The other was the branch director himself.
Neither were present.
Aiden made a decision.
"Bring them here."
Agents guarding Sabretooth and Clarice moved immediately, dragging both captives forward. Power-suppressing collars remained locked around their necks.
Aiden seized Sabretooth by the shoulder and turned to Clarice.
"Tell Richard Wesley to stop," he said coldly. "Or I burn your adoptive father alive."
At first, they hadn't understood the relationship between Sabretooth and Clarice. Intelligence had never recorded adoption details. It was only after reviewing civilian footage that they realized Sabretooth had appeared in California.
Aiden summoned flame into his right palm.
Fire enveloped his hand.
The heat pressed against Sabretooth's shoulder, flesh sizzling audibly. Smoke curled upward as the smell of charred tissue filled the air.
A normal man would have screamed.
Sabretooth didn't.
His jaw tightened. His eyes were filled with contempt.
Clarice's expression strained. She was seconds away from speaking.
Sabretooth cut her off.
"You call that fire?" he sneered. "The flame I use to light my cigar burns hotter."
Aiden's temper snapped.
"You want to die? Fine."
The flames expanded violently, spreading from shoulder to chest. Fire climbed upward, licking toward his neck and downward toward his abdomen.
Then Aiden halted.
He remembered the collar.
Burning too aggressively might damage it. And if the suppression collar failed—
He extinguished the flames abruptly.
"You think you're clever?" he said coldly. "With that collar on, you're nothing."
He kicked Sabretooth to the ground and turned his attention to Clarice.
"You didn't speak when he burned. Let's see if you stay quiet when it's your face."
A small flame flickered at the tip of his index finger.
Before he could move it forward, a voice sounded from behind him.
"You threaten a minor with disfigurement?" Richard's tone was calm, almost conversational. "Is this what passes for professionalism in the Mutant Affairs Department?"
Aiden ignored the insult.
A fist-sized fireball formed in his palm.
"Drop the sword," he said. "Or she dies."
Richard smiled faintly.
He switched the authentic sword to his right hand, holding it in reverse grip, and began walking forward slowly.
Each step was measured.
The slowness itself made the surrounding agents tense.
"Including today," Richard said evenly, "I've met her twice."
"I'm not throwing away my weapon for someone I've met twice."
"If you're going to kill her, do it."
Silence followed.
Even Sabretooth's expression shifted.
Aiden hesitated only briefly. Whether Richard was bluffing didn't matter. He had no intention of debating psychology.
He raised the fireball.
Richard vanished.
Flash?
That was everyone's first assumption.
It was wrong.
He wasn't using Flash.
He was using Level 2 Iai Slash.
Unlike the game version, this was not an aerial extension. The system's version functioned as a high-speed forward rush—nearly indistinguishable from teleportation—followed by instantaneous execution.
The motion was too fast for visual tracking.
A slicing sound cut through the air.
Aiden's body froze.
Then his right arm separated cleanly at the shoulder. His head followed, lifting into the air in a spray of blood.
His body collapsed seconds later.
Richard stood behind where Aiden had been, authentic blade angled downward, blood sliding along the edge.
The battlefield fell silent.
.....
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