Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 595: His Old Power

Clyde and Mina did not slow down one bit since all of this started. Blood clung to them in thick layers. It soaked Clyde’s sleeves, splattered across his chest, and ran down the pale bone of the Demonic Sword in dark rivulets.

The weapon hummed softly as if satisfied with all the slaughter.

Clyde’s expression did not change. His eyes were empty, cold, focused only on angles, timing, and distance. This was familiar ground to him. Killing humans, monsters, or gods were familiar.

The shapes were different, but the process was the same.

Mina moved beside him, her armor darkened with blood. Sometimes her jaw tightened. Sometimes her breath hitched for half a second after a kill. But her hands never hesitated.

She had crossed this line already. Her attacks reinforced her feelings.

She no longer flinched at the sound of bone breaking or the warmth splashing against her skin. Her daggers moved with certainty now. No mercy or pauses. Because that could mean death.

More players poured in on them. They came screaming down the corridor, pushed from behind by the pressure of bodies and the invisible pull tearing at their spines.

"Kill him! Kill the Apex!"

"Don’t stop! The fucker is almost done!"

"Get out of the way!"

"Bastard! That sword is mine!"

They shouted curses, promises, desperate encouragements to themselves. They screamed in rage, laughed hysterically, or cried as they charged, already knowing they were running toward death but unable to stop.

They saw their comrades fall. They stepped over corpses still twitching. They ignored the blood pooling at their feet, ignored the instinct screaming at them to turn back.

Greed drowned everything out. The Apex Mark dragged them forward like hooks buried deep in their minds.

Clyde cut them down without distinction.

A shield came up. He shattered it and the arm behind it.

A sword swung wildly. He stepped inside the arc and split the man from collarbone to hip.

Spells detonated too late, scorching walls and corpses while their casters died.

Mina stayed close to her, always moving where Clyde did not cover the spots.

When he advanced, she covered his flanks. When he committed to a heavy strike, she slipped past his shoulder and killed whoever took that opening.

Throats opened, knees were severed, hearts were pierced cleanly.

Notifications flared and vanished at the edge of Clyde’s vision showing that his levels keep rising.

He ignored all of it.

Mina noticed hers too. She pushed it away just as quickly. None of that mattered while the flow of people who wanted them dead had not stopped.

At the edge of the corridor, the four watched. They did not join yet.

The spear-wielder narrowed his eyes, tracking Clyde’s movements.

"That man wasted no movement," he muttered. "His steps set up the next kill."

"He doesn’t even bother to defend himself. Well, he doesn’t need to. He knows they can’t hurt him," The shield-bearer said, crossing his arms slowly. His grin was tight.

The caster’s gaze flicked between Clyde and Mina. Mana patterns reflected faintly in her pupils.

"He’s controlling the pace and forcing them into bad angles. Look at how they bunch up when they rush him," said the caster. Then her eyes shifted to Mina. "She’s not moving at random either. She’s reading his movements and completed it."

The agile woman nodded slightly, her lips curling. "Yeah. I can see that she fills every gap he leaves. No overlap or hesitation. They had been working together for a long time, it seems."

Another body hit the floor. Clyde didn’t even look at it.

"He’s done this before," the spear-wielder said quietly. "A lot."

"Yeah. This isn’t just talent but also experience." The shield-bearer let out a low chuckle.

"And the girl?" the caster asked.

"She follows his flow," the agile woman replied. "But she’s not weak either. She adapts fast. Both of them are a dangerous combination."

They watched as another wave broke against Clyde and Mina and vanished in seconds.

Blood ran along the corridor toward their feet.

The four exchanged glances with anticipation.

The pressure in front of Clyde and Mina finally began to thin.

Bodies piled higher than the living so the flow slowed from a flood into scattered streams.

Fewer players pushed forward now, their charges uneven, and their movements hesitant. Some broke their mental and fled the moment they saw the corridor ahead. But the others still forced themselves onward, teeth clenched, eyes hollow, knowing they were already too deep to turn back.

Behind them, the four moved.

They advanced calmly, stepping over corpses without breaking formation. Their presence was different from the others. There was no frenzy in their movements or desperation. They watched, measured, and waited for the moment when brute numbers stopped mattering.

That moment came. The caster raised her hand.

Magic power compressed silently, densely, and then released. A spear of condensed energy streaked forward through the chaos rather than exploding inside it.

It slipped past the last panicked players and struck Mina squarely in the chest.

The impact detonated on contact.

Mina’s body snapped sideways and slammed into the wall, her armor screeching as she was thrown off her feet.

She hit hard and skidded across blood-slick tiles before stopping.

For the first time, Clyde’s rhythm broke.

His head snapped toward her instantly. Shock flashed through his eyes before being buried under focus.

He felt the shift immediately. This was not a random strike.

His gaze lifted.

Through the thinning bodies and drifting smoke, he saw them clearly. Four figures standing apart from the chaos, untouched, watching him. They were not rushing. They were not screaming. They were hunting him calmly.

That realization made Clyde’s chest tightened. These ones were different. They waited, analyzed, and struck when it was time. That made them dangerous.

Another attack came. This time, glowing orange arrows formed. Long, narrow arrows humming with compressed heat. They streaked toward Clyde in a tight spread, they were angled to limit his movement.

Clyde turned just in time.

The Demonic Sword moved in a blur. Bone met the magic attack. Sparks and heat exploded as he deflected the projectiles one after another, the impacts ringing through the corridor like bells.

The last arrow shattered inches from his face, washing him in hot air and fragments.

He did not chase the caster yet. The remaining players were still in front of him.

Clyde stepped forward again, reclaiming his flow. His movements snapped back into lethal precision as if the interruption had never happened. He cut down the players without mercy.

Mina pushed herself up against the wall. Her breath was sharp but her grip was still steady. Blood dripped from a crack in her armor. Her eyes locked back onto Clyde.

She was still in the fight.

As Clyde’s blade came down on another charging player, a sensation surged through him. Something old stirred deep in his core. Power he had used long ago, buried under layers of stronger limitations of his rebirth.

The world seemed to sharpen. A familiar presence awakened, crackling beneath his skin.

A system notification flared into existence before his eyes.

[Pure Lightning has awakened]

Electricity crawled along his arm, faint at first, then stronger. They were dancing across the bone blade in thin but violent arcs.

Clyde felt his old power came back. His gaze lifted again toward the four with a grin in his face.

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