It was as if Lynch had never left at all. Without even a second of time elapsing, he had returned to the true “present” carrying his prize, the Torch of Light.
He spent the first second after returning in a momentary daze, and spent the second second speaking. But on the third second, malice descended from the heavens.
Before Lynch’s brain could even process what was happening, several figures manifested out of thin air inside the living room alongside that malice. Without wasting a single moment, they launched an attack right there in the room.
It was so sudden that it caught everyone completely off guard.
There were four attackers in total, all bearing ordinary, unfamiliar faces. Yet the pressure emanating from them was anything but ordinary—they were all Soul Severers, and at least one among them was mid-tier. The mid-tier attacker stepped in to block the direction of Ms. Skye and the Yithian, while the other three low-tier attackers took advantage of the split second before anyone could react to launch a simultaneous, deadly strike on Lynch.
Sudden and unexpected, Lynch and the two ladies had no time to make any moves. They could only watch as the enemies bypassed the two ladies beside Lynch like lightning, thrusting three lethal weapons toward Lynch’s vital spots from the front, left, and rear.
The attacker on the left brushed past the dazed noble lady in fancy clothes, reaching Lynch first. He aimed his dagger upward, thrusting directly for the heart through the gap between his ribs. The dagger had already touched Lynch’s clothing, causing the attacker’s breathing to grow heavy with excitement.
The attacker behind ignored the shocked woman in men's attire beside him. The steel spike in his hand glowed with an eerie green light as it thrust toward Lynch’s heart. Hearing the shrill whistle of the spike piercing the air, a bloodthirsty gleam erupted in the attacker's eyes.
The attacker in front held a rapier, launching a fierce, unreserved head-on assault. Facing Lynch’s astonished face and slightly parted mouth, the tip of his blade aimed straight for Lynch’s throat. Seeing the horror on Lynch’s face and how he seemed unable to react in time, a ferocious grin spread across the attacker's lips.
From the clouds to the abyss, from triumphant victory to impending death, life’s dramatic reversals took place in a single second. At this very moment, Lynch was trapped in a fatal deadlock.
However, right at that moment...
The noble lady clutching her folding fan, who seemed to be dazing as if her brain had stopped responding, raised her hand at the exact moment the attacker brushed past her. Her rather large folding fan was aimed directly at the side of the attacker’s face.
The woman in men's attire, who had been breached from behind and seemed to merely watch as the attacker thrust out the steel spike beside her, had already gripped her sword hilt with her hidden hand at some point. With a subtle flick of her wrist, a faint metallic glint shone at the junction between the hilt and sheath.
The terrified expression on Lynch’s face froze halfway before suddenly transforming into a grim smile. The hand concealed inside his suit jacket whipped out like lightning, aiming a gleaming silver “matchlock gun” directly at the attacker in front of him. Above the pitch-black barrel, brilliant electric arcs were crackling with loud pops.
The gunshot detonated.
The focused attacker on the left was breathing heavily in eager anticipation of the blissful sensation of his blade entering flesh. He hadn't even noticed the changes beside him before the folding fan pointed at him spewed a jet of flame. His head instantly exploded like a water melon. The body holding the dagger was thrown back like a ragged sack by the sheer kinetic force, flying several meters and knocking over several display shelves before crashing to the floor.
This sudden, dramatic turn of events failed to draw the attention of the attacker behind him, because an instant before the gunshot rang out, a blinding flash of light had already filled his vision, causing him to drop the steel spike to the floor.
Along with his wrist.
The woman in men's attire had drawn her sword, severing the attacker’s arm in a single slash. Just as the attacker lowered his head to look at his own hand, the sword blade pivoted, sweeping unimpeded across his neck.
The head flew high into the air amidst a flash of light. It even blinked in mid-air, looking down at that familiar body below as its bloodthirsty gaze turned to utter confusion. The headless corpse collapsed sideways with a heavy thud as blood gushing from its neck erupted like a blossoming bouquet of crimson flowers. A heavy stench of blood instantly pervaded the room.
Amid the pungent stench of blood, the odor of scorched air suddenly mingled in. Then, amidst the mid-air mist of blood, a dazzling blue lightning bolt illuminated the room.
Without the slightest hesitation, Lynch pulled the trigger directly.
The moment the gun body lit up, the lightning was already right before the front attacker’s eyes.
The grin on the attacker’s face froze before it could fully bloom. Lynch’s reflection vanished from his pupils, replaced only by a brilliant arc of electricity growing brighter and closer.
Crackle.
A blinding radiance flared. The attacker was swallowed by a sphere of electric light. Accompanied by a sudden plume of dense smoke, the savory aroma of roasted meat instantly filled the living room. The engulfed body turned into a charred corpse in an instant and fell backward stiffly, leaving only a gleaming rapier dropping limply to impale the floor, quivering slightly.
From the clouds to the abyss, from triumphant victory to impending death, life’s dramatic reversals took place in a single second.
The same words held true when viewed from the opposite perspective. Victory and defeat, life and death, were sometimes decided in a single thought.
In truth, the three of them had long made preparations in advance.
The previous incident involving the Color Out of Space felt very much like someone trying to force the Torch of Light out of the Milt siblings’ hands. Lynch had considered back then whether the Shadow Alliance was pulling the strings behind the scenes, but without concrete evidence, he could only hold his suspicions.
That did not mean he had put the matter out of his mind. On the contrary, he had been mulling over it continuously. If the Shadow Alliance was indeed behind the Color Out of Space, it meant they already knew the location of the Torch of Light. The fact that they hadn't acted directly meant they were likely waiting for Lynch to help them retrieve it so they could enjoy the fruits of his labor—just like their previous traps.
He couldn't be certain, but he couldn't afford not to guard against it. Furthermore, aside from the two ladies, Lynch trusted no one. Anyone could be an eye for the Shadow Alliance. Even if the Milt family and the Yithian were clean, the people they interacted with daily might not be.
Therefore, they had not informed Ms. Skye or the Yithian. Instead, they had agreed on a strategy while alone together in town.
Though Lynch hadn't known at the time that his trip would take only an instant, the principle remained the same: once the Torch of Light was obtained, the enemy could strike at any moment. The most likely moment for an ambush would be right when the item was secured and their guard was at its lowest—assuming the enemy could predict that exact timing.
The three had agreed in advance that once the item was in hand, Lynch would notify the two ladies. They would immediately enter the highest state of alert, leveraging their implicit tacit understanding to deliver the fiercest counterstrike at a moment's notice. And the keyword for that notification was that very phrase: “I’m back.”
Those who scheme against others will inevitably face a day when they themselves are schemed against.
Thus, within a single second, life and death were decided. Three corpses crashed to the floor almost simultaneously. Lynch was muttering something unintelligible under his breath, but he had already smoothly stood up, stepping forward alongside the two ladies to face the remaining mid-tier Soul Severer.
Swift as pouncing rabbits and swooping falcons, everything changed in the blink of an eye. It had all happened far too fast. In the brief moment it took for the mid-tier attacker to turn his head, his companions were wiped out, and he himself had become the trio’s target. Yet this did not fluster him. Instead, he flashed an icy smile at the three approaching him.
At that exact moment, an illusory shadow and a pitch-black dagger manifested behind the three of them.
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