SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse-Chapter 60: Blackmoon

Booom!

The thunderous impact echoed through the dense foliage, shaking leaves from branches and sending a flock of startled birds fleeing into the sky.

A shockwave rippled outward, flattening everything in a radius of tens of meters. Trees splintered. Dust and loose earth blasted away in a ring of devastation. The air crackled with the aftershocks of raw, unrestrained force.

Where once a fearsome predator had stood, now there was only ruin—and blood.

The Iron-fanged tiger, a monster known for its speed and viciousness, had been turned into a crimson mist. Bits of flesh and bone rained down like macabre confetti.

Damien lowered his fist, expression calm.

He hadn’t even used his full strength.

"This..." Akira’s voice trembled with disbelief.

She stood frozen, her wide eyes locked onto the gruesome remains scattered across the blasted clearing. Her mouth hung open as she struggled to find words.

Just moments ago, the tiger had leapt from the shadows—silent, swift, lethal.

But before its claws could even reach them, Damien had moved. One punch. One strike. Now there was no tiger—just carnage.

How was this possible?

Damien glanced back at the stunned researcher and the silent scholar beside her. He wasn’t surprised by their reactions. Anyone would be shocked. In fact, if their roles were reversed, even he would’ve struggled to process what just happened.

"Let’s go," he said casually, already turning away from the bloodstained ground.

His voice was calm, almost indifferent, as if what he had just done was nothing more than swatting a fly.

Without waiting for them, Damien resumed his pace, his boots crunching softly on the broken terrain.

From what Akira had explained, the Thousand Miles Toad was expected to appear near the outer fringes of the first layer. That would be their destination.

Damien made sure not to use even a hint of his Acceleration ability. If he did, neither of the girls would have any hope of keeping up.

Still, even without it, they struggled.

Akira’s face had turned as red as a tomato. Sweat poured down her cheeks, soaking into the collar of her robes. Her breathing had grown labored, each step more difficult than the last.

Salene fared no better—but she refused to show it.

Her movements remained measured, her expression calm. Yet the sweat clinging to her brow and the stiffness in her limbs betrayed her fatigue. Pride, or perhaps stubbornness, kept her silent.

The group moved deeper through the forest.

As they neared the border between the first and second layers, the environment subtly shifted. The trees grew taller, their trunks twisted and gnarled. Shadows lengthened unnaturally, and the air thickened with tension.

More monsters began to appear—far more than before.

Predators lurked in the undergrowth. Pairs of glowing eyes watched from the darkness. The air grew charged with Amma, and each beast that stepped into view radiated a violent Silver-rank aura.

Some... carried the pressure of Gold rank.

Ordinary adventurers would have turned back at this point.

But Damien didn’t flinch. His pace remained steady.

The monsters didn’t matter.

One after another, they charged—snarling, growling, hungering.

And one after another, they fell.

Each time, it was the same. A blur of movement, a sharp sound like thunder—and then silence.

Damien’s punches ripped through their bodies with brutal ease. Hundreds of tons of force delivered with the precision of a blade. Blood painted the foliage. The forest floor turned slick with gore.

Nothing slowed them down.

Not a single monster had lasted more than a second.

Behind him, Akira stared at Damien’s back in a daze. Her scholarly mind raced to comprehend the numbers—400 tons of force. No, it had to be more now. The sheer pressure he exuded with every step sent shivers down her spine.

Salene’s eyes narrowed, her gaze unreadable. But even she couldn’t deny what she was witnessing.

Damien didn’t look back.

His hands rested loosely by his side, his breathing calm, his eyes fixed ahead.

And yet, with each monster that fell, his smile grew just a little wider.

He wasn’t just strong.

He was a storm wrapped in human skin.

Just as the trio prepared to move again—Damien having reduced a stealthy Shadow Leopard into a blood-slick meat patty with a casual strike—his steps abruptly halted.

His eyes narrowed, sharp and focused.

A flicker of something foreign had appeared in the distance—no, not one, but three presences.

They weren’t like the beasts they had encountered so far. These auras were different—restrained, deliberate, and refined. There was no wildness, no instinctual aggression. These were the signatures of cultivated warriors.

Humans.

His gaze lifted toward the towering canopy overhead.

Atop a massive, ancient tree—its limbs broad like the bones of giants—stood three figures clad in pristine golden armor, their silhouettes framed against the shifting sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Two men. One woman.

All of them radiated power at the peak of Silver rank.

They didn’t bother to hide themselves, standing with casual arrogance as if they owned the forest. Their gleaming armor caught the light, polished to the point of brilliance. Symbols of their guild glimmered faintly on their chests.

The woman, short auburn hair tied into a playful ponytail, was the first to react.

Her lips curled into a grin, and her eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught sight of Damien’s group in the distance.

"Hehehehehehe... birds die for food, and these little Iron rankers? Because of greed." Her tone dripped with mockery, her voice light like a song yet soaked in condescension.

The man beside her scoffed, arms crossed.

"Don’t waste your breath, Nora. These types always show up in places they don’t belong. Let them be—they’ll just end up as beast fodder anyway."

He wore the same armor, though his posture was more rigid, his chin raised with superiority. There was no doubt he looked down on anyone weaker than himself.

Just then, the third figure—the one standing at the center, eyes half-lidded as if bored—spoke in a flat, commanding tone.

"Sora. Nora. Don’t get distracted."

His gaze barely lingered on Damien before turning away, as if deciding they weren’t worth a second thought.

"This quest is too important for us. We can’t afford any mistakes."

His voice was calm, devoid of emotion, yet carried a weight that silenced the others instantly.

Nora pouted dramatically, hands on her hips.

"Leader, you’re stricter than my father sometimes. At this rate, no one’s ever going to marry you." Her voice, though teasing, held an undercurrent of frustration.

Sora nodded in mock solemnity, backing her up.

"He’s right, you know. Lighten up a bit, leader. You’re gonna wrinkle that cold, handsome face of yours."

The "leader" remained silent, but internally, he sighed.

Lovesick fool.

It was clear now—they were Adventurers, likely affiliated with one of the dominant guilds, and here on a mission of significant importance. The way they carried themselves, the gear they wore, the unspoken bond between them—it all pointed to long experience and shared hardship.

Damien remained silent as he observed them from afar, a faint glint in his eyes.

They hadn’t recognized him. That was fine.

He had no interest in pointless chatter.

Not yet.

There were countless esteemed occupations in this world—Divine Researchers, Alchemists, Formation Masters, Blacksmiths—brilliant minds who contributed heavily to civilization. Yet, for all their genius and knowledge, one thing they often lacked was time.

Time to wander the wilderness, fight off beasts, or gather rare materials hidden in the depths of dangerous regions.

And so, to support these revered individuals, the Adventurer Guild had been established.

Its purpose was simple—connect those with requests to those with power and time to fulfill them.

It also begged the question—if such a system existed, why were Salene and Akira, clearly not lacking in ability, running around a perilous forest instead of simply issuing a request themselves?

The answer was both simple and tempting.

The three figures atop the ancient tree—Sora, Nora, and their silent leader—were all Rank 2 Adventurers of the guild, just like Salene and Akira.

And like many others, they had accepted a quest from a powerful Rank 3 Alchemist—a request that offered rewards so generous, none of them could refuse.

They weren’t alone. Dozens of adventurer parties had already flooded into the forest, all in pursuit of a single target—the elusive Thousand Miles Toad.

Nora, who until now had looked half-amused, suddenly heard her leader speak in a grim tone.

"You two, be serious. According to the latest reports, the Blackmoon Party has also accepted the quest."

There was a sharp pause.

"No way..." Nora whispered, her smile faltering.

"This can’t be..." Sora added, eyes widening.

The name alone was enough to strike tension into any Silver ranker’s heart.

Blackmoon—a party known across the continent. Veterans, each one a Gold Ranker, and every mission they took part in ended in overwhelming success.

If they had moved, what hope did others even have?

The leader remained calm.

"Don’t lose hope," he said, voice steady as stone. "Blackmoon hasn’t entered the forest yet. We still have time."

Then, his eyes drifted again—just briefly—toward Damien standing in the distance.

"And that’s why we can’t afford to waste time on... distractions."

His words were deliberate, final.

Sora and Nora both nodded silently, all traces of mischief gone from their faces.

In the blink of an eye, the golden-armored trio vanished from the treetop—flashing away through the dense canopy like glimmers of light swallowed by the forest’s depths.