The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

But Azrynn’s attack stopped mid-air.

Jeny, the woman with the spear, had moved first. Her spear swept in from the side, forcing Azrynn to pull her dagger back and leap away. The tip of Jeny’s weapon stabbed exactly where Azrynn had stood a second earlier, shattering the stone into fragments.

”Attacking when we’re not ready?” Jeny tilted her head, her voice cold behind the visor. ”That’s hardly honorable.”

Azrynn landed lightly a few paces away, both daggers still raised. She looked at Jeny with sharp eyes, then smiled faintly.

”Fighting doesn’t wait for the enemy to be ready,” she said. ”That’s just foolish.”

Without warning, two more members of the Javelin Squad attacked from left and right. Azrynn spun, her body flowing like water between the strikes, her right dagger deflected a sword slash, her body ducked under a spear thrust from behind, and her leg swept out to kick a third attacker off his feet. Within seconds, she had slipped out of the encirclement and stood in the open again, her breathing calm.

Gladin, still holding his axe, let out a rough laugh.

”She’s quick.”

Jeny didn’t answer. Her eyes, hidden behind the visor, tracked every movement Azrynn made.

Across the plaza, Wincent lowered the God Hand slowly. The chaos magic around him dimmed, but his eyes remained fixed on Azrynn. His lips pressed thin, and his voice came out low, almost a whisper to himself.

”...She seems to be of the same race as the elves.”

He tilted his head, studying the long ears poking through Azrynn’s hair, then the way she moved too fluid and too precise for an ordinary human.

”But different.”

Wincent’s eyes narrowed. The runes along Azrynn’s daggers still glowed faintly, emitting a green light he didn’t recognize. Not ordinary elven magic. Not human magic either.

”This is interesting.”

Then Gladin’s voice cut through the chaos, rough and impatient.

”Stop playing around! Hit her properly!” He hoisted his axe onto his shoulder, glaring at his squad. ”She’s only winning because she’s nimble.”

Azrynn’s eyes narrowed. She crouched low, pressing one palm flat against the cracked stone beneath her feet. Her fingers spread wide.

Then the runes along her daggers flared bright green, and the ones etched into her palms answered. A pulse of light rippled outward from her hand, spreading across the ground like ripples on a pond. The runes lifted from the stone, floating upward dozens of them, glowing faintly, circling her like fireflies.

Gladin’s grin faltered. ”What’s happening?!”

Azrynn’s voice was calm, quiet, but it carried across the plaza.

”[Runic Mastery: Bladefield].”

The moment the words left her lips, the ground screamed.

The stone erupted. Spikes of jagged rock and glowing green rune-light shot upward in every direction, jagged, sharp, and endless. The plaza transformed in an instant, a field of stone blades that turned the battlefield into a death trap. The Javelin Squad scattered, some leaping back, others too slow. One soldier screamed as a spike carved through his greave and pinned him to the ground. Another stumbled, blood already spilling from a gash across his thigh.

Gladin’s axe carved a wide arc, shattering three spikes in front of him. He landed hard, breathless, his eyes wide.

”What the hell is this?!”

Jeny was already moving, her spear spinning as she deflected spike after spike, her visor cracked and her breathing sharp. She had never seen magic like this.

One by one, the Javelin Squad fell.

The first soldier screamed as a spike drove through his armored boot and out the other side. The second took a blade of stone through the shoulder, his sword clattering to the ground as blood sprayed across the ruined plaza. The third tried to retreat, but a spike erupted behind him, catching him in the back and lifting him off his feet before he collapsed in a heap.

Blood spread across the stone.

Gladin’s face twisted beneath his helmet. His aura erupted around him—a blazing, burning pressure that cracked the ground at his feet. He took a step forward, then another, each one heavier than the last.

”ENOUGH!”

Azrynn’s eyes snapped toward him. She moved instantly, her feet barely touching the ground as she darted backward. But Gladin wasn’t the only threat.

Jeny was already behind her.

The spear came in fast, a silent thrust aimed at Azrynn’s spine. But she slammed her foot against the ground, using the spike field itself as a springboard, and launched herself straight up. The spear passed beneath her, close enough to slice the edge of her cloak.

At the peak of her jump, she twisted in mid-air. Her arm cocked back, and with a sharp flick of her wrist, she hurled one of her daggers downward.

The blade spun through the air, green runes trailing behind it like a comet’s tail.

Gladin saw it coming. He raised his axe and swung with everything he had—a brutal, wide arc that carved a visible slash through the air itself. The shockwave ripped across the plaza, shattering spikes, tearing stone, and slicing through everything in its path.

Azrynn twisted mid-air, but the slash caught her side. Her body spun, blood spraying from a deep gash across her ribs.

But her dagger didn’t stop.

It drove straight into Gladin’s shoulder, burying itself deep in the gap between his armor plates. The runes along the blade flared, and Gladin roared in fury.

”YOU—!”

And Gladin lunged again, axe raised high, blood streaming from the dagger still buried in his shoulder. His aura blazed hotter, wilder, the ground cracking beneath every step.

But he never reached her.

A blast of crimson magic came from the side, tearing across the plaza, thick and violent, a lance of chaos energy aimed straight at Azrynn’s wounded body.

Azrynn’s eyes widened. She couldn’t move in time. The gash across her ribs burned, her legs heavy.

Then a shadow fell in front of her.

Alice was already there.

Her hand snapped up, and the void barrier bloomed, the black kitten’s head materializing in an instant, its jaws open wide. The crimson magic slammed into it and vanished, swallowed whole, the barrier rippling once before settling back into place.

Azrynn stared at Alice’s back, breathless.

Alice didn’t look at her. Her violet eyes were fixed on the source of the attack.

Wincent stood a few paces away, the God Hand still raised, crimson veins pulsing along its length. He looked at the barrier, then at his own hand, and let out a soft sigh.

”Too bad,” he said quietly. ”I missed.”