SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse-Chapter 39: Just pure, overwhelming strength

"Mutated Armoured Rats?"

Damien muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits. Most of the monsters he had slaughtered moments ago were nothing more than savage beasts—creatures without beast cores, without any hint of cultivation. But these new enemies were different. Mutated Armoured Rats... even the weakest among them were Iron rank, matching Damien’s current realm, and some could very well be stronger.

They weren’t just stronger. Their armour was thicker, their bodies tougher, and their bloodlust infinitely more feral.

All around him, loud battle cries clashed with the nauseating sounds of steel slicing through flesh. The very air buzzed with the metallic scent of blood and the electric tension of mortal combat.

A single Mutated Armoured Rat, its eyes burning a furious crimson, lunged at Damien with its fangs bared, aiming straight for his hands.

Damien snorted coldly. He didn’t even bother wasting a bullet. With a casual backhand swing, the heavy butt of the Epoch Breaker cracked against the rat’s plated skull, sending it hurtling through the air like a broken doll. Its body thudded against the ground and twitched violently before falling still.

Damien didn’t spare it another glance. Mere pests like these weren’t worthy of his time.

Without slowing his pace, he charged forward, his boots thudding against blood-slicked earth as he closed the distance to the embattled group in the distance.

---

"Oh! True Eternal One, save me...!"

A desperate voice pierced the chaotic battlefield. A middle-aged man, his hands clasped tightly in front of his chest, muttered fervent prayers under his breath, oblivious to the carnage around him.

Around him, two women and a younger man fought tooth and nail against the relentless assault of Mutated Armoured Rats. Their gritted teeth and bloodied weapons told the story of their struggle.

One of the women—petite in frame but wielding a hammer twice her size—fought with ferocious intensity. Her short, slightly tousled hair clung to her sweaty forehead, and her bright eyes burned with fury.

Boom!

Each swing of her hammer shook the very air, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Yet despite the force behind her attacks, the Mutated Rats merely stumbled back before charging again, more vicious than ever.

"Damn these incompetent clowns! They almost led us straight to our deaths..." Akira hissed through gritted teeth, her hammer whirling around for another devastating blow.

"Princess—Lady Selene—we should have listened to the warnings! We shouldn’t have come here...!"

Her desperate cry fell on deaf ears.

The woman she addressed—Lady Selene—stood utterly motionless, indifferent to both the battle and Akira’s pleas. She was a stark contrast to the lively Akira: pale porcelain skin, long silver-white hair cascading to her waist, and eyes like frozen lakes—icy blue and devoid of all emotion.

Selene’s gaze flickered occasionally, tracking the rats with a detached precision. Every so often, her eyes would gleam faintly, an eerie glow betraying the monstrous talent lurking within.

Without warning, Selene stopped moving altogether, standing like a statue amidst the chaos. Sensing an opportunity, a Mutated Rat lunged at her throat, its gaping maw poised to tear flesh from bone.

But Selene had already moved.

A dagger—silent and swift—materialized in her hand. It thrust forward with surgical precision.

Puchi!

The blade pierced through the rat’s skull, the tip protruding from the other side. Its body slumped limply at her feet, lifeless.

But there was no time to savor the victory.

Another rat, mad with bloodlust, charged at her from the side, its teeth gnashing with feral hunger.

"Argh! My chest...!"

A scream tore through the air.

The younger man fighting beside them had been too slow. One of the rats latched onto him, sinking its fangs deep into his torso. Blood spurted wildly as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his wound.

He never got back up.

The rats swarmed his fallen body in a frenzy, tearing flesh, breaking bones, devouring every piece until there was nothing left but a slick patch of blood and scattered scraps.

The sight was sickening—enough to make any seasoned warrior pale. Yet Selene’s eyes remained calm, detached, as if the gruesome death meant less than nothing to her.

Akira, on the other hand, erupted.

"You disgusting fuck!" she screamed at the middle-aged man who still knelt in prayer. "Get up and fight, or I’ll send you straight to your damned lord myself!"

Her hammer swung dangerously close to the man’s head in warning.

Fury boiled inside her. She cursed her own foolishness for trusting these worthless escorts to lead them into the treacherous Ten Thousand Beast Forest.

Just as despair threatened to claim her, salvation arrived.

A storm descended from the skies—no, not a storm, but a man.

General Claymen.

Akira’s heart surged with relief at the sight of him, his figure wreathed in blazing silvery light. Beside her, the praying man sobbed with gratitude, convinced his fervent prayers had been answered.

"I knew it... The Lord wouldn’t abandon me..."

He wept openly, even as the battle raged on.

Selene merely watched with the same hollow stare, showing no joy, no relief. Only cold calculation flickered behind her eyes.

"Hmmm..." Claymen’s sharp gaze swept over the battlefield, assessing the two women in scholar’s robes amidst the tide of blood and steel. Their auras—hidden, but potent—prickled against his seasoned instincts.

Divine Researchers? The term immediately surfaced in his mind.

His expression hardened. Protecting these two had just become a mission of utmost priority.

Without wasting a breath, Claymen unleashed his full power.

His body flared with burning vitality, heat rippling off him in waves. While he lacked Damien’s monstrous crowd control ability, Claymen’s sheer physical might as a Silver rank warrior was undeniable.

No fancy techniques.

Just pure, overwhelming strength.

Boom!

With a single punch, the air howled and cracked. A Mutated Armoured Rat was obliterated instantly, its armour shattering like glass, its body vaporizing under the force.

And he did not stop there.

Punch after punch, kick after kick, Claymen became a one-man tide of destruction. Blood splattered the battlefield, turning the soil into a sticky crimson swamp.

Thankfully, the number of Mutated Rats wasn’t overwhelming; otherwise, even his monstrous stamina would have been drained dry.

Just then, Damien arrived like a phantom.

Epoch Breaker roared once more.

Bang!

Multiple shots rang out, each bullet faster than the eye could follow. Yet to Damien’s mild surprise, it took two bullets now to bring down each Mutated Rat, not just one.

He frowned briefly but dismissed the thought.

There was no time to ponder.

The battlefield became a sea of fire and steel. Bullets rained from the sky, drowning the Mutated Armoured Rats in a metal storm, while Claymen bulldozed through their ranks like a relentless juggernaut.

Victory was no longer a question.

It was inevitable.