The Invincible Full-Moon System

Chapter 1933: Daring Mortal

Six teens died, and nobody noticed.

All were too busy with the war preparation to care about kids playing in the mud.

Leisurely—Demigod Adolf strolled into the camp through the entrance marked by two tiki torches like a dignified noble. His steps were measured, and one hand was folded on his stomach; his eyes glancing left and right with mild amusement.

Or at least, the smile hinted at amusement.

Inside, he was disgusted by this place.

But it was a part of his duty to listen to the higher-ups, so there’s no other way around this.

"Good evening."

"Yes, good evening."

Demigod Adolf flashed a smile at a pair of soldiers passing by.

His noble bearing and quiet confidence made the soldiers straighten their backs in an automatic salute. Still, the two exchanged a glance afterward—they didn’t recognize the dignified man at all. But for the man to stroll into camp with such self-assurance, he had to be someone important.

Not an enemy.

So, the pair let him pass without questioning.

As Demigod Adolf gets closer to the center, there are more soldiers wandering around.

All of them cast a glance at him, suspicious, but nothing a polite and confident smile couldn’t fix.

But one of the high-ranking officers is bound to come across him.

Nearing the heart of the camp, a hardened middle-aged man with scars came out of his military tent and noticed Demigod Adolf. Having been inside the important meetings, he knew all the traitor nobles who were willing to take arms against the emperor.

And this man is not one of them.

"Hey, you! Stop there!" He quickly approached with wide strides. "Who are you?"

"It’s okay," Demigod Adolf smiled. "You’re not supposed to recognize me."

"I know everyone. Remembered every face. Been to every important meeting. So... How come I’m not supposed to recognize a friendly face?" The officer held Demigod Adolf’s shoulder and squeezed. "You will have to come with me."

Feeling the weight on his shoulder, Demigod Adolf’s smile froze.

His sharp amber eyes slowly turned to look at the hand on his shoulder, pausing at it for a good moment.

"Don’t touch me," He finally shifted his gaze back at the officer, and there was killing intent behind it.

One that spooked the officer, causing him to recoil away.

Gritting his teeth, the officer drew his sword, assuming that this man was from the enemy forces and had come to infiltrate them. But as soon as the sword was out, a hand clamped his face hard and pushed him into his own tent.

He fell back to the ground, eyes widening in shock.

It happened so fast that he couldn’t even react to Demigod Adolf’s movements.

Now certain that the man he came across who pretended to be a noble was an enemy, the officer rose to his feet and charged straight to the exit. But he struck something hard. A wall. And it broke his nose as he wasn’t expecting it.

A hiss escaped his mouth as he held his broken nose; tears began to pool in his eyes.

But he forced the pain back down and attacked the barrier.

Nothing happened.

He charged his sword with seething energy, turning the blade blue, and thrust with all his might.

Still nothing.

Realizing that the man wasn’t simple, the officer shouted, warning the others that there was an intruder who managed to reach deep—into the camp. But still nothing. Nobody answered his scream. It does not matter how hard he screamed.

Just as he panted, the sword in his hand trembled.

A frown crept to his face, and before he could react, it turned and shot towards his neck.

Blood erupted from his mouth and neck as the sword pierced clean through his jugular. His vitality was robust—this alone wouldn’t kill him, not yet. Gritting through the shock, he clawed at the blade, trying to wrench it free. He knew exactly what he needed: the salve inside the iron chest to his left.

It could seal the gaping wound in an instant.

But the sword trembled again.

It twisted and sliced, cutting the flesh wider and even breaking the neck with a sickening crack.

Almost instantly, the officer dropped to the floor, dead.

Outside, Demigod Adolf continued tracing the makeshift path and emerged into a circular clearing that hosted only a single large tent at its center. Two guards flanked the entrance. One was a fierce, muscular man gripping a massive battle axe who looked more like a beast than a man, while the other was a sharp-looking soldier clad in full plate armor and a red cape.

Both are the strongest soldiers in the camp.

Even then, Demigod Adolf didn’t hesitate. He strolled towards the entrance.

One look at him, and the two guards immediately moved.

Trained since childhood and forged by more battles than anyone around them, they recognized danger with a single glance. In an instant, the muscular man flanked left, his battle axe drawn back to its fullest arc. Simultaneously, the armored soldier closed in from below, sword pulled back and ready to thrust.

Both were aiming to slash at different parts, which would slice Demigod Adolf into three pieces.

However, before they could swing, their eyes rolled back.

An enormous suppression weighed down on their bodies and minds, knocking them out in an instant.

Like brittle trees, the two dropped to the ground with solid thuds.

Demigod Adolf grabbed the two guards, one by the neck and the other by the cape, and headed over to the entrance. He stopped right before entering, closing his eyes and expanding his senses, easily covering the whole camp with lazy, terrifying ease.

"No sign of the Red Skull Elite Force," He thought inwardly and smirked. "Such a smooth night."

Frankly, his forces already hinted at infiltrating the big factions of the Grey Realm.

Most of the higher-ups expected the Red Skull Elite Force to intercept them by now. Seeing no sign of them should’ve been troubling, a bad omen. But Demigod Adolf saw it differently. He believed that the enemy was trying to be clever, operating on the assumption that the realm’s largest and most powerful empire would be too obvious as a first target.

In their perspective, it would be too obvious to attack the Grisian Empire.

And that’s precisely why he was sent here, to anticipate the Red Skull Elite Force trying to be smart.

It was hard to protect the entire realm with their number, so they couldn’t protect everyone.

Demigod Adolf entered the main tent and was immediately greeted by an expected sight.

On the bed, a man lay asleep with two naked women nestled on either side. His breathing was slow and steady until something terrible filled the air. As if sensing trouble before it arrived, his eyelids fluttered open, and his mind woke up instantly.

This man should be the leader of the rebellion, the emperor’s own brother, Sir George Haarman.

"Don’t get up from the bed," Demigod Adolf lay the two guards aside as George sat up—crimson eyes fixated on the stranger who had entered his tent. "Don’t let me disturb your comfort. I will be in and out before you know it."

"And you are?" George stared at Demigod Adolf with unblinking eyes; no sign of fear.

It was to be expected from someone who dared to have the ambition to take down the strongest empire.

"I’m nobody. Just a passerby who happened to have a proposition."

"A nobody wouldn’t be able to make quick work of my guards. And for a messenger who came with a proposition, you really started badly. How do you think I’ll react to the proposition if you do this to my guards?"

"I understand," Demigod Adolf smiled. "But I am confident the proposition I brought would lighten up your mood."

As he said that, he noticed something was odd.

Both women lay naked on the bed, their bodies trembling with fear. A stranger entering the tent unbidden was enough to frighten anyone, but this shaking was something else entirely. Too violent. Too raw. It’s unnatural for them to be this scared.

Demigod Adolf knew his appearance might be unnerving, but it’s not that bad.

And yet, he soon noticed that the women’s eyes remained shut—heads resting on their pillows.

Even though they were clearly awake, neither dared to open their eyes and glimpse the man George was speaking to. ’This George must be someone who enjoys rough play,’ He smirked inside. ’Look at how good he trained those two.’

"What proposition do you bring?" George asked as he leaned back on the headboard. "I’m listening."

"I’ll give you this." Demigod Adolf reached into thin air and produced a sword of gleaming white—its blade hummed with a power unlike anything the inhabitants of this low-tier realm had ever seen. "This sword can cut through anything. Barriers. Armor. Energy. Anything." His eyes locked onto George’s as the smile on his face stretched wider. "I’ll give it to you. In return, you will ensure the emperor and his empire crumble to dust."

Naturally, this sword is a divine-rank item.

Something that nobody in this realm would even know, much less wield.

"Is that your proposition?" George raised a brow, unimpressed. "Giving me this sword?"

"Do you have something better?"

"No, I don’t. But against my brother’s forces, do you think a sword would shift the tide of war?"

Hearing the condescending tone made Demigod Adolf’s blood boil.

For a mere mortal, George dared to look down on him? Just moments ago, Demigod Adolf had quickly and easily dismantled two of the camp’s strongest soldiers. George’s own elite. And yet, not an ounce of respect. Not a flicker of fear; the insult was almost impressive.

Like he was still in control.

Like his life was never at stake.

George must be one of the most fearless people he has ever met.

"There are rules in this world," George got out of bed and walked to the side, pouring himself a drink without a care in the world. "If you want something from someone, there needs to be trust involved. It would take introducing your faction, what your goals are, and then you can extend a helping hand.

"As far as I got from this, you’re encouraging me to attack the empire even though I was already going to do so."

"You have no idea who you are talking to..."

"That’s the point, isn’t it? I don’t. And you don’t scare me. If you wanted me dead, then you’d kill me, not talk to me. So, pick a path to move forward. Either introduce me to the faction behind you, or you can give me something better than might persuade me to accept this... proposition."

Demigod Adolf frowned.

The destruction of the Grisian Empire is key to creating chaos, so he can’t go back empty-handed.

Normally, mortals would leap at the chance to receive anything from someone like him. Even his spit would have been revered as a sacred elixir. But George hadn’t groveled. Hadn’t begged. Instead, he’d made demands and pushed for more.

It was new. Unfamiliar.

And it gnawed at Adolf in a way he didn’t quite understand.

In hindsight, he should’ve asked what George wanted to accept this helping hand.

But his ego has had enough.

"Do you really believe I can’t kill you? Why? Just because you led this little rebellion?" A scoff escaped him—sharp with disdain. This mortal needed a lesson; a reminder of exactly what stood before him. "If my help is beneath you, perhaps I will offer the sword to the emperor instead." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "And then... I won’t need you at all."

Demigod Adolf flicked his hand and bore a crushing weight onto George.

His mortal body would be crushed completely.

"Once you’re gone—I’ll send your women to follow you so that you won’t be lonely," Demigod Adolf smirked devilishly, showing rows of white teeth. "Of course... After I play with them first."

Underneath George, the ground cracked under the weight.

But to Demigod Adolf’s surprise, George was still standing. He’s not crushed.