SSS Unknown: Dark Knight's Legacy

After weeks of preparation, the group finally moved to the final stage.

They had arrived.

The Goblin Fortress. It loomed ahead like a scar on the landscape, a crumbling ruin crudely repurposed by the limited ingenuity of its lowly inhabitants. 

The fortress's defenses were primitive—makeshift barricades and shallow trenches lined with rusted spikes. Its purpose was clear: not as a stronghold but as a hideout for creatures with neither the intelligence nor the resources to create anything better.

The evidence of Unknown's ruthless strategy was scattered along the approach—shallow graves hastily dug and fresh enough to draw scavengers. 

The traps and ambushes he had orchestrated had already thinned the goblins' numbers. Their guards, once numerous, had dwindled to a skeleton crew patrolling aimlessly. It was the perfect time to strike.

The group had just begun to prepare their final approach when Unknown suddenly halted, raising a hand to stop them. His emotionless gaze swept over the party, his piercing eyes scanning each member with chilling precision.

"You." he began, his tone flat but weighted with menace, "never even think about betraying me."

The words dropped like a stone into a still pond, sending ripples of unease through the group. The tension was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. 

Though his voice was calm, the threat beneath it was sharp enough to cut. His eyes, cold and calculating, lingered on each of them, searching for even a flicker of disloyalty.

Steel, the lizard man warrior, narrowed his molten gold eyes, his scaled hands tightening up, and sneered. "We've already come this far together," he said, his voice low and steady, though laced with irritation. 

"If we wanted to betray you, we wouldn't have waited until now."

Boar, the towering ogre with a hulking frame and a penchant for brute force, let out a disdainful snort. "What's your problem? You think we're stupid enough to turn on you here, in the middle of enemy territory?" His guttural voice was defiant, but there was an edge of unease beneath his bravado.

Unknown's gaze lingered on Boar for a long, unnerving moment before shifting to the others. The silent implication in his icy stare was clear: yes, I do think you're capable of that—and worse.

"I'm not questioning your intelligence," Unknown replied evenly, his voice devoid of warmth. "Only your motives. Trust is a dangerous gamble, and I don't take risks without leverage."

The old lizardman, a veteran fighter with a hunched posture and a voice that carried the weight of years, stepped forward cautiously. His movements were deliberate, as if he was defusing a live explosive. 

"Enough of this," he said, his raspy tone firm yet conciliatory. "We all have a common goal, don't we? Turning on each other now, when we're this close, would only ensure all our deaths. Let's focus on the goblins—they're the real enemy."

Unknown tilted his head slightly, his expression inscrutable. A faint, unsettling smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "The goblins are a nuisance, nothing more. The real enemy is betrayal—and I deal with that swiftly."

The air grew heavier, the silence more suffocating. Even the wind seemed to still, as if nature itself was holding its breath. Unknown's words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, their meaning clear to all.

After a long pause, Unknown turned back toward the fortress. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his pitch-black sword, the faint glint of its edge visible even in the dim light. "Let's move," he ordered, his tone final. "And remember—graves aren't just for goblins."

The group exchanged uneasy glances but followed in silence. Unknown's cold, calculating nature cast a long shadow over the party, suffocating any remnants of camaraderie.

Trust had become a fragile, fleeting thing, and in this alliance, survival depended on the choices they made—and the secrets they kept.

"It's time to massacre them," Unknown declared coldly, his voice devoid of hesitation or humanity.

"Hey, wait for us!" one of the group called out, but the words fell on deaf ears.

Unknown didn't bother slowing down or waiting for his so-called allies. He knew the truth: if they followed him, they'd do nothing but hinder his efforts. 

They lacked the ruthlessness, the single-minded focus necessary to truly dominate in this kind of slaughter. He had no time for dead weight.

With a single thought, he activated his abilities.

[Accel] [Madness Mutations] [Limit Break]

The transformation was immediate. His lifeless eyes ignited with a crimson glow, turning his vision into a sea of blood. His body surged with power, enhanced far beyond any reasonable limit. Every muscle felt like it was tearing and rebuilding in real-time, his veins coursing with raw energy. 

The aura he exuded was suffocating, a dark storm of pure killing intent. To those who could sense such things, it was as if a monster had been unleashed—a being with no regard for life, friend or foe.

"Slaughter them. Kill them all," he muttered, those word wasn't just a threat, they were a deceleration of war.

There was a time, long ago, when he had paused to reflect on his actions. He had wrestled with guilt over killing beings who had posed no real threat, who had merely existed in his path. The memory of their frightened faces and uncomprehending eyes had haunted him for a while.

But that time had passed, buried under the weight of survival and pragmatism. Mercy was a luxury he could no longer afford. They irritated him—these creatures, these weaklings who dared to exist in his way. 

Killing them wasn't just cathartic; it was practical. Their deaths made him stronger, each life he took fueling his power like stoking a fire. And if he wanted to escape from this hellish place, showing even a shred of compassion was out of the question.

He lunged forward, a blur of speed and fury, his black blade gleaming as it carved through the first goblin who dared to cross his path. The creature didn't even have time to scream before it crumpled to the ground, its lifeblood pooling beneath it. 

The fortress, already crumbling, was about to become a graveyard.

Unknown was no longer just a man fighting for survival. He was a force of nature, a walking calamity, a monster who would leave nothing but devastation in his wake.

[Stinger] - [Sweeping Slash]

Unknown gripped his centipede-tailed greatsword tightly, the weapon gleaming with a sinister sheen under the dull light. With a single, calculated motion, he thrust it forward toward the dense cluster of goblins guarding the fortress gate. 

The blade, imbued with his monstrous strength, tore through their formation with brutal efficiency, carving a wide path of carnage. Flesh was ripped apart, bones shattered, and blood sprayed in every direction, bathing the area—and Unknown himself—in a macabre crimson.

The dying shrieks of the goblins echoed through the fortress, alerting the rest of the inhabitants to the intruder's presence. Sensing imminent danger, the goblins scrambled into action, hastily arming themselves with their crude weapons—rusted axes, jagged spears, and brittle shields. 

The air buzzed with panicked activity as they prepared to defend their home.

By now, the goblins had suffered heavy losses. Initial estimates placed their number at 500, but Unknown's earlier tactics—poisoning the water source—had thinned their ranks considerably.

Only around 300 remained, and many of those were too weakened or ill to fight. Unknown had planned every move meticulously, exploiting their vulnerability with cold precision.

The fortress's layout worked to his advantage. Its confined passages and narrow platforms funneled the goblins into predictable clusters, limiting their ability to coordinate. 

Above, ranged goblins with crystal-tipped spears and jagged stones took position on the walls, while below, melee fighters wielding crude axes and wooden shields gathered in disorganized groups, hoping to overwhelm him through sheer numbers.

[Vortex Thrust]

Unknown spotted the first group of ranged goblins stepping onto the defensive platforms atop the walls. In an instant, he became a blur of motion, dashing forward with inhuman speed. 

His greatsword moved with lethal precision, the [Vortex Thrust] ripping through the center of their ranks. The unfortunate goblins caught in the thrust's path were shredded into unrecognizable chunks, their mangled remains scattering across the platform. Those on the fringes were hurled into the air like ragdolls, their bodies tumbling lifelessly to the ground below.

A second group of goblins, emboldened by desperation, retaliated by hurling their spears. The projectiles cut through the air with lethal intent, but to Unknown, they might as well have been moving in slow motion. 

His enhanced senses, heightened to an almost supernatural degree, allowed him to track each spear's trajectory with ease. He dodged them with fluid movements, each step perfectly timed, each motion a seamless part of his deadly rhythm.

In one graceful turn, he spun around and unleashed a devastating spinning slash. The force of the attack was so great that it cleaved through several goblins at once, severing their torsos from their lower bodies in a spray of gore. Their weapons clattered uselessly to the ground as their lifeless bodies collapsed in heaps.

The battlefield was a symphony of violence, and Unknown was its maestro. His greatsword, an extension of his will, moved with unparalleled precision and ferocity. Each strike carved through flesh and bone, each thrust pierced through armor and shield, and each dodge and counter turned the goblins' clumsy attacks against them.

To the surviving goblins, he wasn't just an enemy—he was a nightmare made flesh. A crimson knight wreathed in death, unstoppable and unrelenting.

As the fortress descended further into chaos, Unknown pressed on, cutting through the horde with cold efficiency. His only goal was total annihilation, and he would let nothing stand in his way.

"Growww!"—ferocious roars erupted from the depths of the fortress, echoing with primal rage. Something had changed. The goblins, once disorganized and panicked, now moved with a savage bloodlust, as if empowered by an unseen force. Their eyes glowed faintly, their shrieks reaching a fever pitch, and their attacks became wild and unrelenting.

Unknown's lips curled into a faint, twisted smirk. "All the better," he muttered. His tone was devoid of concern; if anything, he welcomed their growing ferocity.

The goblins charged from every direction, their desperation turning them into a storm of clawing hands, gnashing teeth, and crude weapons. Their attacks were suicidal, their movements erratic. They no longer cared for their own survival, only for the chance to bring him down.

From the fortress's central building, three giant goblins emerged, towering over the smaller ones. Each of them wielded massive bows, their string taut as they drew back enormous arrows. The projectiles, crude but deadly, whistled through the air with terrifying force, skewering any goblin unlucky enough to stand in their path as they honed in on their true target: Unknown.

He didn't flinch. The onslaught wasn't enough to trigger [Accel]—his trump card remained dormant, unneeded. Instead, he pushed his speed to its natural limit, a blur of motion against the chaotic backdrop.

The massive arrows closed in, but Unknown moved with calculated precision, mimicking the Crimson Knight's signature technique. With a fluid spin, his greatsword cleaved through the air, slicing the projectiles apart mid-flight. The shattered arrows exploded outward, cutting down goblins caught in the blast radius. The move wasn't just defensive—it was devastating, reducing everything within range to mangled carnage.

[Flying Blade]

Unknown's crimson-tinged eyes locked onto a Hobgoblin at the edge of the battlefield. With a surge of strength, he hurled his greatsword like a missile. The weapon hurtled through the air, piercing cleanly through the Hobgoblin's skull. The giant creature collapsed in a heap, its grotesque form twitching once before going still.

The remaining goblins, witnessing the apparent loss of his weapon, let out triumphant howls and rushed him. They swarmed forward, thinking they had finally found an opening. But Unknown had anticipated this.

[Sweeping Slash]

With a swift motion, he drew the blade at his waist, its edge glinting darkly in the dim light. In a single, arcing strike, he unleashed a devastating blow, cleaving through the goblins that had encircled him. Their bodies crumpled, split apart by the sheer force of the attack. Blood sprayed in every direction, and the ground beneath him turned slick with gore.

Now wielding a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, Unknown became a whirlwind of death. His movements were erratic yet precise, his strikes relentless and unyielding. Each swing of the [Dark Blade], now resonating with his unbridled fury, cut through flesh and bone with ease. The weapon seemed to awaken, feeding off the rhythm of his carnage, its ominous energy pulsing with every life taken.

With every enemy that fell, his magic replenished itself, a steady stream of energy fueling the inferno of rage burning in his chest. He didn't stop, couldn't stop—not until every last foe was annihilated.

"Kill!"

Through the crimson haze that clouded his vision, one thought consumed him.

"Kill!"

His body moved unnaturally, twisting and striking in ways no human frame should have been able to manage. Yet it obeyed his every command, a vessel of pure destruction.

"Kill!"

Around him, the bodies piled higher and higher, a grotesque monument to his merciless rampage. The goblins' futile resistance only added to the ever-growing mountain of corpses beneath his feet.

He cut his way through the horde, every step leaving behind a trail of ruin. When he finally broke through, the battlefield fell silent for a moment.

All that remained were two Hobgoblins, their massive forms blocking his path forward. They stood firm, gripping their weapons tightly, their snarls dripping with hatred and fear.

Unknown didn't hesitate.

The crimson beast surged forward, ready to carve through the last of the obstacles between him and total annihilation.

There was no other choice. The two Hobgoblins exchanged a look—a silent understanding of the desperation that bound them. With grim resolve, one of them charged forward, its heavy footsteps pounding against the ground. 

Before it could even fully swing its weapon, Unknown was upon it. His black sword flashed through the air with inhuman speed, ripping open its abdomen in a single, brutal strike.

The Hobgoblin staggered, its entrails spilling out, but it did not die immediately. 

With a last, desperate gasp, it summoned its remaining strength, trying to grapple with the monster in front of it. The bloodied creature clawed at Unknown, its gnashing teeth aimed for his throat, its eyes filled with venom and determination.

But in that final act of defiance, the other Hobgoblin seized the opportunity.

BANG!

The immense force of the attack sent Unknown crashing into the side of a building. The impact was so powerful that the structure buckled under the blow, collapsing around him in a massive tremor. 

The dust and debris clouded the air, but Unknown's presence remained palpable, a malignant force amidst the wreckage.

"You... I... I will... kill you!" the wounded Unknown howled, his mangled body twitching in pain as the [Dark Blade] pulsed ominously.

Unknown's gaze turned cold, his eyes devoid of mercy as the weapon's power flared up once more, its magic resonating through his very being.

With the madness instinct echoing in his mind, Unknown gathered his remaining strength.

A surge of magic coursed through him, a twisted and unholy force that had once driven him to the brink of madness. 

He activated [Limit Break], pushing his body beyond its limits, even as blood poured from every wound that had been inflicted upon him. The pain was unimaginable, but it no longer mattered. His body had ceased to feel anything, the agony drowned by the burning desire for annihilation.

A blood-red aura erupted around him, a visible manifestation of his unrelenting rage and power. 

He sheathed the [Dark Blade] with deliberate slowness, the weight of his magic pressing heavily on the air. The pressure was so overwhelming that it stilled the battlefield. 

No goblin dared to approach, not even those with the faintest inkling of a fight left in them. They could feel the very air grow thick with his power, as if the world itself was bending to his will.

With a sharp, cruel smile, Unknown drew the sword once more, and the heavens themselves seemed to shudder in response.

[Calamity Slash]

The air screamed with the force of the attack, the sword seemed to cut through the space itself. 

A violent hiss filled the air as Unknown's strike tore through everything in its path. His body, propelled by the immense magical pressure, moved as if one with the blade, each movement fluid and deadly. 

The force of the slash was enough to split mountains, and it cleaved the Hobgoblin cleanly in half before continuing its path of destruction.

The massive creature fell in two, its lifeless body collapsing in a heap of blood and mangled flesh. The force of the strike didn't stop there—everything in its wake was obliterated, the surrounding structures crumbling under the sheer power of the blow.

The battlefield fell into a stunned silence. The remaining goblins watched in horror, the gruesome demise of their leaders unfolding before them in a single, instantaneous moment. 

The world seemed to stop, their collective morale crumbling to dust.

And then, chaos erupted.

The goblins, now realizing the futility of their resistance, scattered in a frenzied panic. They trampled over one another in their desperate attempts to escape, their cries of terror echoing through the air as they fled for their lives.

But there was no escape.

Unknown's bloodshot eyes burned with wrath. 

His sword was already dripping with the gore of his enemies, and his thirst for carnage had not yet been quenched. The goblins' desperate flight only served to fuel his rage further. He would not spare a single one.

As they tried to flee, Unknown advanced with deadly purpose, each swing of his blade claiming more lives. His crimson aura burned bright against the darkening skies, an unstoppable force cutting down every creature in its path.

He had annihilated every one of them.

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