I Can Easily Defeat SSS Ranks... This World Is Already Mine-Chapter 74: The Queen Takes the Bait

Silence.

The air in Sector 28 was thick with it.

It was a cold, metallic silence, tasting of rust and ozone and the patient, predatory stillness of a trap waiting for its prey.

For thirty agonizing hours, we waited.

My true elite force, my ’Dagger’ team, was hidden amongst the labyrinthine tangle of rusting, behemoth-sized pipes and shadowy metal catwalks of the industrial cavern.

Chloe was a phantom, perched on a high, dark beam, her form melting into the gloom until she was nothing more than a whisper of deeper blackness.

Fenris, my loyal Werewolf, lay coiled in the darkness, a low, barely audible growl the only sign he was even there.

Grunt, the Kobold Warlord, stood as still as a stone gargoyle in the mouth of a dark service tunnel, his new war maul, Earthshaker, resting on his shoulder.

And I sat on a makeshift throne of stacked, rusted metal crates, my long coat draped artfully around me, watching the live feed from Isabelle’s decoy operation on my phone.

The performance was magnificent.

Isabelle was a genius of military theater.

Her army of Orcs and goblins was making a glorious, chaotic, and wonderfully stupid mess on the border of Sector 32.

Reina, disguised by Lillith’s powerful illusion magic, looked every bit the arrogant, overconfident Demon King.

She strode back and forth just outside the shimmering crystal border, shouting insults that Lillith was clearly feeding her, occasionally ordering an Ogre to throw a large rock at the walls with a satisfying, if completely ineffective, ’thump’. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

It was beautiful. It was idiotic. It was utterly, completely convincing.

Then, after thirty-two hours of this masterful display of tactical incompetence, the alert came.

A sharp, urgent whisper in my mind from Pixia, who was monitoring the wider battlefield from the safety of the Throne Room.

My Lord... she’s moving.

I looked at the main map displayed on my phone. The single, brilliant red icon that was Queen Alyssa had detached from her Crystal Spire.

She was on the move. And she was bringing friends.

She’s taken the bait, I thought, a thrill of cold, victorious fire shooting through my veins.

I watched as her icon, flanked by four smaller, but still intensely powerful, blue icons, swept across her territory towards the decoy battle.

Her Royal Guard. The angels of light.

"Hold your positions," I whispered to my team through our mental link. "Let the mouse walk all the way into the trap."

We watched, our collective breath held, as Alyssa and her guard arrived at Sector 32.

The "battle" there was brief and brutally one-sided.

A wave of pure, holy light washed over the battlefield. The holographic feed from Isabelle’s forces flickered and died.

A moment later, Isabelle’s voice, tight with perfectly feigned panic, came over the comms.

"My Lord! It’s a disaster! They’re too strong! We’re broken! Retreating to Sector 28!"

It was a masterful performance.

On the map, the green icons of my decoy army scattered, fleeing in a chaotic rout, leading Alyssa and her triumphant forces right towards us.

She’s coming, Pixia’s voice whispered. ETA five minutes.

The silence in the cavern deepened, becoming heavy, pregnant with violence.

I could feel them approaching. A wave of oppressive, holy power that made the hairs on my arms stand up and my vampiric nature recoil.

They appeared at the far end of the cavern, striding through the main Transfer Array with an air of regal triumph.

Queen Alyssa was at the front, her simple white dress a stark contrast to the grim, industrial decay around her.

Her face was a mask of cold, righteous fury. Her Royal Guard, the four angels of light, glided at her side, their golden wings casting an ethereal, judgmental glow.

They saw the empty cavern, the signs of a recent, panicked retreat.

"They fled here," Alyssa’s voice echoed, cold and clear as crystal.

"Find them. Leave no corner unchecked. I want the brute’s head."

Her angels fanned out, their spears of solidified light held ready. They walked deeper into the cavern. Deeper into my kill box.

They walked under the catwalk where Chloe was perched.

They moved right into the center of the room.

The perfect position.

"Now," I commanded, and I rose from my throne of rusted crates, melting out of the deepest shadows like a nightmare made flesh.

"Darkness Veil," I whispered, and the world ended.

The dim lights of the cavern were not just extinguished; they were devoured. An absolute, impenetrable blackness, a curtain of pure, magical void, crashed down over the entire chamber, swallowing all light and sound.

A collective gasp of surprise and confusion came from Alyssa’s forces.

"An ambush!" one of the angels yelled, his voice tight with alarm.

Too late.

From the sudden, suffocating darkness, my monsters attacked.

BOOM!

The ground exploded as I moved. I was a blur of motion that the darkness could not hide from my vampiric senses. I appeared beside the rearmost angel, the one bringing up the rear.

The wind shrieked as I clenched my fist, punching out with all the force of my new B-Rank Body.

BOOM!

My fist connected with the angel’s side. The impact was an absolute detonation. A visible shockwave of force, a ripple in the very fabric of the darkness itself, blasted outwards.

CRACK!

The angel’s armor of solidified light shattered like glass, and the creature of holy energy was launched sideways, crashing through a rusted metal wall with a sound like a thunderclap, its light flickering and dying.

The ambush had begun.

From all sides, my Bloodkin struck.

Fenris’s howl was a promise of a savage, bloody death.

Reina’s fists were crimson meteors in the dark, each punch an explosion.

Grunt’s war maul was a wrecking ball of pure, brutal force.

The Royal Guard, so composed and powerful moments before, were thrown into chaos, their greatest weapon, the light, stolen from them.

I ignored them. My eyes, burning like red coals in the absolute blackness, were fixed on only one target.

Queen Alyssa.

She stood alone in the center of the storm, a faint, silvery aura protecting her, her face a mask of shocked, furious disbelief.

She had walked into my trap.

And now, she was mine.

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