My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill-Chapter 273

He took a step forward, and despite being unarmed and apparently relaxed, everyone in the room felt the threat inherent in the movement. "Don’t you dare talk to me about duty. I’ve done my duty a thousand times over. I’ve earned the right to make my own choices. And I choose this."

The Pope’s eyes blazed with righteous fury. His voice, when it came out, was a roar that echoed through the entire throne room and probably carried into the halls beyond:

"GUARDS! SEIZE HIM!"

The response was immediate, overwhelming, and clearly pre-planned. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Dozens of royal guards burst from hidden alcoves that TheReaper had noticed but dismissed as irrelevant. More poured through side doors that had been concealed behind decorative tapestries. Within seconds, they’d formed a perfect encirclement, each warrior positioned to support the others in a formation that spoke of serious military training.

These weren’t ceremonial guards or palace decoration. These were the elite—soldiers who’d survived demon wars, veterans with actual combat experience. Each one wore enchanted armor that gleamed with protective magic. Each one carried weapons blessed by the church and enhanced by master craftsmen. Each one had the eyes of someone who’d killed before and would do it again if ordered.

Commander Elric moved into position at the formation’s head, his massive sword held ready in a two-handed grip that suggested decades of practice. His expression was grim but determined—he clearly didn’t want to fight TheReaper, but he would if commanded.

The four new heroes scrambled into their planned formation, their training overriding shock. Gattychan took the front position, his sword raised defensively. Seraphelle stood behind him, staff already glowing as she prepared support magic. Mika’s hands moved through complex gestures, and reality began to warp around her as zone magic activated. Rin had her bow fully drawn, the arrow aimed directly at TheReaper’s center mass.

Within ten seconds of the Pope’s command, TheReaper found himself surrounded by over sixty armed warriors, plus four summoned heroes whose powers he didn’t fully understand, plus one of humanity’s most experienced demon-fighting commanders.

The tactical situation was clear—overwhelming force applied with coordination and planning. They’d been ready for this possibility, had prepared for potential betrayal or madness from their most powerful asset.

It should have been intimidating. Should have given even a legendary hero pause.

TheReaper looked around at the forces arrayed against him, his expression shifting from cold anger to something like genuine amusement. He took in the professional formations, the magical enhancements, the careful positioning that left no obvious gaps.

Then he started laughing.

It began as a quiet chuckle, almost private. But it built rapidly, growing louder and more genuine until it filled the entire throne room with dark, honest mirth that carried three hundred years of accumulated irony.

"This?" he asked, his voice carrying that laughter even as he spoke. He gestured at the assembled forces with one hand, the movement casual and dismissive. "This is what you think it takes to handle me? Sixty guards, four baby heroes, and one competent commander?"

His expression shifted again, the laughter fading but the amusement remaining in his eyes as something far more dangerous. "Let me give you all some free advice, since apparently the historical records don’t make this clear enough."

He smiled, and reality itself seemed to warp slightly around him—a barely visible distortion that made the guards closest to him unconsciously step back.

"I am called TheReaper for a reason. And it’s not because I’m good at harvesting wheat."

The air in the throne room changed. The temperature didn’t drop—it was more fundamental than that. The quality of existence itself shifted, as if they’d all suddenly become aware that they were standing in a predator’s den.

Power began radiating from TheReaper in waves, not magical energy that could be measured or defended against, but something more primal. Killing intent refined over three centuries into something almost tangible. The sheer weight of experience, of battles won and enemies destroyed, made manifest.

Several of the guards visibly paled. A few actually took involuntary steps backward despite their training. The new heroes felt it like a physical pressure—Seraphelle’s healing magic flickered, Mika’s zone spell stuttered in its activation, Rin’s drawn arrow trembled slightly.

Only Commander Elric held steady, his jaw clenched and his grip white-knuckled on his sword, but he held his ground through pure force of will.

"Last chance," TheReaper said quietly, his voice carrying clearly despite the low volume. "Stand down. Let me walk out of here. Forget about Satou. Find a different target for your heroes to cut their teeth on."

"Never," Pope Gregorius said, his voice shaking with fury but carrying absolute certainty. "You will be stopped. If you will not serve, you will be contained. ATTACK! In the name of all that is holy, BRING HIM DOWN!"

TheReaper sighed. "Well. I tried."

Then he moved.

[COMBAT BEGINS]

The legendary hero didn’t draw his sword. Didn’t activate any visible magic. Simply moved from standing still to combat speed in an instant that defied human perception.

One moment he was surrounded by sixty armed guards in perfect formation. The next moment, that formation was chaos.

TheReaper appeared behind the closest guard—a veteran of fifteen years who’d survived three demon wars. His hand moved in a precise strike that hit specific nerve clusters, and the guard dropped like a puppet with cut strings, paralyzed but alive.

Before anyone could react, TheReaper was already moving again. He flowed through the formation like water, impossibly fast, impossibly precise. Another guard down—this one with pressure points struck that would keep him unconscious for hours. Another—joints locked with such perfect anatomical knowledge that the man couldn’t even cry out before falling.

"Spread out!" Commander Elric roared, his tactical mind recognizing the danger. "Don’t let him isolate targets! Formation Beta-7!"

The guards responded instantly, years of training overriding fear. They shifted from encirclement to a more spread formation that would theoretically prevent anyone from moving through their ranks so easily.

It didn’t help.

TheReaper was already in their midst, and he was demonstrating exactly why he was legendary. Every movement was economical to the point of artistry. Every strike landed exactly where he intended. Every dodge seemed to put him in the perfect position for his next attack.