Dante stood at the edge of the rocky chokepoint. He stared into the swirling purple mist of Wyrmrest Gulch.

His Intuition stat wasn’t just flaring. It was burning.

The feeling of being watched was oppressive. It was a heavy and prickling sensation crawling up the back of his neck.

He knew exactly what an ambush looked like.

The steep and jagged ridges flanking the narrow dirt path were the perfect high ground for archers. The narrow walls completely restricted lateral movement.

"Big Brother?" Casanova whispered nervously. He stepped out from behind the broad shoulders of Dante. "Why did we stop? The double EXP is right through that cave."

"We stopped because there is an entire army waiting for us in those rocks," Dante said. His voice was flat.

Casanova squinted into the fog. "I do not see anything. Maybe it is just more pigs?"

"It is not pigs," Dante replied. His eyes scanned the left ridge.

He caught the faint and unmistakable gleam of polished armor reflecting the ambient violet light.

"Well, if it is Vanguard’s Legacy again, you can just do the big firebird thing," Casanova suggested helpfully. He plucked a single and discordant note on his lute. "I will play a hype track."

"It is not Vanguard’s Legacy," Dante said.

He remembered the warning of Lyra back in the Outpost. Silas was loud, disorganized, and relied on overwhelming numbers.

The group currently hiding in the gulch was completely silent. They had excellent discipline.

They were holding their fire and waiting for him to step into the kill-zone.

That meant it was the Legion of Blades.

Before Dante could formulate a plan to flush them out, the quiet of the blighted forest was broken by a high-pitched and panicked scream.

"Let go of me! Get your hands off me!"

Dante turned his head. The sound was coming from the woods directly to their right near the base of the rocky embankment.

Two female players burst through the rotting underbrush and stumbled onto the dirt path.

They were both low-level casters and wore basic cloth robes.

Right on their heels were three heavily armored warriors wearing the distinctive silver and blue tabards of the Legion of Blades.

The Legionnaires weren’t mutated monsters.

They were scouts. They were likely sent to secure the perimeter of the ambush zone. They had just caught two independent players trying to sneak past.

One of the Legionnaires lunged forward. He grabbed the slower of the two girls by the hood of her robe and violently threw her into the dirt.

"This is a restricted zone," the Legionnaire growled and drew his broadsword. "Turn around and walk back to the Outpost, or we send you back in pieces."

"We just wanted to look at the cave!" the girl on the ground cried and scrambled backward.

Dante watched the scene with mild disinterest.

He didn’t care about random players getting bullied out of a farming spot.

But Casanova reacted differently.

The flamboyant bard let out a sharp gasp. His eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped.

"Chloe?!" Casanova yelled.

The girl on the ground looked up. Her tear-streaked face instantly morphed from absolute terror to utter confusion. "Casanova?"

"You know her?" Dante asked and glanced at the bard.

"Of course I know her!" Casanova shrieked indignantly. "She was my sixty-fourth kiss! She is my girlfriend!"

Dante stared at him. "You have a quest to sexually assault a hundred people, and you consider them your girlfriends?"

"It is a very fast-moving relationship" Casanova argued defensively.

He pointed a dramatically accusing finger at the three Legionnaires. "Unhand my beloved! You brutes!"

The three Legionnaires looked at the ridiculous man in the ruffled shirt. Then they looked at the imposing gold armor of Dante.

They clearly recognized the massive target they were supposed to be ambushing.

"Sir," one of the scouts whispered into his comms. "The target has not entered the gulch. He is engaged with our perimeter patrol."

Up in the rocks, Danus cursed violently. The idiot scouts had just blown the element of surprise.

"Kill the bard," Danus ordered through the comms. "Force Dan to engage you. Draw him into the array!"

Down on the path, the lead Legionnaire grinned. He pointed his broadsword directly at Casanova. "You want to play the hero, bard? Let us see what you have got."

The three heavily armored warriors charged. They ignored Dante completely and rushed straight for the squishy and lightly armored support class.

Dante didn’t draw his sword. He just took a step back.

Casanova was annoying. Dante was perfectly fine watching him get flattened by a couple of mid-level grunts.

It would save him the trouble of ditching the bard later.

"Stay behind me, Chloe!" Casanova shouted valiantly and threw his lute onto the dirt.

Dante expected the bard to start casting some sort of desperate illusion magic or maybe a weak debuff spell.

Instead, Casanova just stood his ground, clenched his fists, and planted his feet wide.

The system interface suddenly flared.

[Player ’Casanova’ has activated Innate Talent: Titan’s Physique.]

Dante raised an eyebrow.

The flamboyant and skinny bard didn’t cast a spell. He physically expanded.

The transformation was instantaneous and completely horrifying.

The height of Casanova rocketed from five-foot-nine to nearly seven feet tall.

The ruffled silk shirt violently tore at the seams. Massive and impossibly dense slabs of digital muscle erupted across his chest, arms, and back.

His neck thickened until it was the same width as his head. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

In a fraction of a second, the squishy support class had morphed into a hulking and vascular bruiser that looked like he could bench-press a transport truck.

The three charging Legionnaires froze in their tracks. Their eyes widened in absolute shock.

"What the..." the lead warrior stammered.

Casanova didn’t let him finish.

The massive bard lunged forward with explosive and terrifying speed. He completely ignored the drawn broadswords.

He reached out with a hand the size of a dinner plate and casually caught the sword of the lead Legionnaire by the bare blade.

The sharp iron edge ground against the bare palm of Casanova.

[-1 HP]

The damage number popped up in the air. One single point of damage.

Casanova sneered. His voice was suddenly three octaves deeper and rumbled like an earthquake.

"You interrupted my date," the massive bard growled.

He yanked the sword forward and pulled the heavily armored Legionnaire completely off his feet.

Casanova brought his other massive fist up and delivered a devastating and bare-knuckle uppercut directly under the iron chin of the warrior.

The impact sounded like a cannon firing.

The Legionnaire was launched ten feet into the air. His armor dented violently inward.

He shattered into blue pixels before he even hit the highest point of his arc.

[Target Eliminated: Legionnaire (Level 15)]

The remaining two scouts stumbled backward. They were completely terrified.

"He is a tank!" one of them screamed and raised his shield. "The bard is a tank!"

Casanova laughed. It was a deep and booming sound that shook the rotting trees.

He didn’t use a weapon. He didn’t use a skill.

He just stepped forward and casually backhanded the tower shield of the second Legionnaire.

The sheer and raw physical strength of the blow completely shattered the wooden shield! It sent the warrior flying into the rocky embankment and zeroed out his health bar instantly.

The third scout didn’t stick around.

He dropped his sword, turned around, and sprinted back toward the chokepoint as fast as his digital legs could carry him.

Casanova didn’t chase him.

He let out a massive breath, and the thick and vascular muscles rapidly deflated.

In three seconds, he was back to being a skinny and flamboyant bard wearing a shredded silk shirt.

He turned around and offered a charming and polite bow to the two female players sitting in the dirt.

"Are you ladies unharmed?" Casanova asked smoothly as if he hadn’t just punched a man into the stratosphere.

"That... that was amazing," Chloe breathed. Her eyes were wide with awe.

Dante walked over. He looked at the spot where the first Legionnaire had shattered.

"Titan’s Physique," Dante said and crossed his arms.

"It is an S-Rank innate talent," Casanova explained and grinned proudly.

"It temporarily scales my physical defense and raw strength based on my total mana pool. And since I am a bard, I have a massive mana pool. I basically get to turn into a raid boss for sixty seconds at a time."

Dante actually nodded in approval.

In the Zenith Protocol, players were usually locked into the rigid roles of their chosen class.

A bard was supposed to stand in the back. They strummed chords and handed out three-percent speed buffs. They were notoriously fragile.

Casanova had drawn a talent that completely broke his class limitations.

He was an incredibly effective and highly durable front-line brawler masquerading as a squishy support. It was a brilliant and deceptive build.

"Alright," Dante said. "You are useful. You can carry the loot."

"I am an artist, Big Brother, not a pack mule," Casanova protested and picked up his lute from the dirt.

Dante turned his attention back to the chokepoint ahead.

The third scout had fled right into the purple mist. He was undoubtedly running back to warn the rest of the ambush party.

The element of surprise was completely gone for both sides.

"The ambush is blown," Dante said. He drew the [Crimson Edge]. The red blade gleamed in the dim light. "They are going to fall back and try to bottleneck us inside the pass."

"So we go around?" Casanova asked and adjusted his ruined shirt.

"No," Dante said. He took a slow step toward the swirling purple mist. "We go straight through."

Casanova sighed. He strummed a nervous chord on his lute. "I hate it when the big guys say that."

Dante didn’t wait.

He walked directly into the narrow and rocky chokepoint of Wyrmrest Gulch. He headed straight into the teeth of the trap of the Legion.