Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

Chapter 173 Battlefield

"You're ignorance shall be the death of you," the king said, his voice cold and cutting as his glare bore into Jett.

Jett clenched his fists but maintained a composed exterior. He wasn't ready yet. The inferno blazing around him was his only shield, its dwindling flames buying him precious seconds as his MP slowly climbed. Time was slipping through his fingers, but he needed more of it. Discover hidden content at empire

"Cornered, young man. Hand her over," the king demanded again, his tone sharp with finality.

Jett's mind raced. 'What's his deal? With those stats, he should've crushed me by now. Why's he stalling?' His eyes narrowed as he studied the king. 'He keeps acting like he wants to finish this quickly, but something's holding him back.'

His gaze shifted to the queen, her pale face etched with fear. She stood too close to danger, and every second made the situation worse. 'I need to get her out of here. But how?'

The flames protecting them sputtered and died, leaving nothing but smoldering embers. Jett's jaw tightened as the soldiers, sensing their opportunity, surged forward with renewed vigor.

"Can you run?" he asked urgently, his voice low enough that only the queen could hear him.

She looked toward the distant walls, her eyes betraying the answer before she spoke. "I don't think I'll make it."

Jett let out a frustrated sigh, his lips curling into a faint grin despite the tension. "Yeah, dumb question. Hold still."

With a sharp gesture, Jett activated his skill. [Construct].

The ground beneath them rippled like water as his magic surged forth. In moments, a protective dome of solid earth rose around the queen, encasing her in a sturdy barrier. He gave her a quick nod of reassurance. "You'll be safe in there. Just give me a sec."

The soldiers were already closing in, blades gleaming as they prepared to strike. Jett stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as a mischievous smirk spread across his face.

"Now for my stats," Jett muttered to himself,

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Class: Magic Swordsman

Level: 102

HP: 570 +253

MP: 270

Strength: 370 +230

Agility: 283 +517

Intelligence: 270

Perception: 269

Undistributed Points: 0

=====

"Alright, let's dance," he muttered, 'First time I'm hitting Zero on undistributed points.'

Unarmed, Jett relied on his agility and quick thinking. As the first soldier lunged at him, he sidestepped and drove an elbow into the man's jaw, sending him sprawling. Two more came at him from opposite sides. Jett ducked under their swings, using a sweeping kick to knock one off balance while grabbing the other's wrist and flipping him over with a practiced motion.

"[Muddy Feet]," he whispered, snapping his fingers.

The ground beneath the soldiers turned to slick mud, causing them to stagger and slip as they struggled to stay upright. Jett darted among them like a shadow, landing precise strikes and keeping them disoriented. He fought with calculated ferocity, never letting them get too close to the dome protecting the queen.

But he knew this couldn't last forever. His MP was recovering, but time wasn't on his side. 'Just a little longer… I need to hold out.'

{Hell Fire}

Flames roared to life at Jett's command, the intense heat scorching the battlefield. Without hesitation, he followed up.

{Flood}

A tidal surge of water crashed into the inferno, creating a violent hiss as steam billowed upward. The dense vapor blanketed the area in a massive smokescreen, obscuring visibility for everyone.

Jett exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his brow. 'This should buy me some time.'

He raised his hand and activated [Storage Space], reaching into the dark space. His fingers closed around a hilt, and he pulled out a gleaming sword. "A weapon would be good right now," he muttered, gripping it tightly as his eyes scanned the swirling mist.

[Battle Instincts].

[Tactical Mirage]

Jett's senses heightened in an instant. The chaotic fog didn't hinder him; instead, he could feel every movement within a 50-meter radius as though it were imprinted in his mind. The presence of his enemies burned like red-hot coals in his awareness.

In the blink of an eye, multiple illusions of Jett sprang to life within the smokescreen, each moving with deceptive purpose. The soldiers hesitated, swinging wildly at the phantoms, their confusion growing with every missed strike.

Meanwhile, Jett maneuvered unseen, his actual presence undetectable. Inside this space, his stats surged, while the enemies' were significantly diminished, their strength sapped as though the very air weighed them down.

From a distance, the King of Vond observed the battlefield. His sharp instincts prickled as he watched the unnatural fog churn. Something wasn't right. Frowning, he stepped further back, unwilling to be caught in whatever trap Jett had laid.

Then came the sounds, steel meeting steel, the pained groans of men falling to unseen blades. The king's frown deepened as he realized his soldiers were being picked off one by one.

Jett moved like a ghost, his sword a blur as he dispatched his enemies with cold efficiency. One soldier after another fell, their armor clattering against the ground. He didn't stop, his focus unwavering. Each strike was deliberate, each movement precise.

Suddenly, the battlefield trembled as a hulking figure emerged. An armored man, towering and far more massive than the previous commander, strode forward. He raised his enormous hands and clapped them together with earth-shaking force.

The resulting shockwave tore through the smokescreen, scattering the vapor and revealing the scene beneath.

Jett stood amidst the fallen soldiers, his sword slick with blood. His chest heaved as he turned to face the giant, who now loomed over him like a living fortress. The armored man's presence alone was oppressive, his footsteps resounding like thunder.

Jett's heart raced as he glanced toward the dome protecting the queen. He tightened his grip on his sword. 'I have to hold them off. No matter what.'

The monstrous man charged, and Jett leapt back, barely dodging the earth-shattering swing of a massive axe. Soldiers began closing in from the flanks, their weapons glinting in the sunlight. Jett gritted his teeth.

He readied himself to defend against the onslaught, every fiber of his being screaming to protect the queen. But just then, a familiar voice pierced through the chaos.

"JETT!"

His head snapped toward the source of the voice, his eyes widening, 'What the Hell?'

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What could that be?