It wasn't that Ignis had suddenly changed his temperament or developed a sudden urge for murder and plunder. His HUD displayed a warning—from the elevated position above, someone had already taken aim at Anyu and Kevin, who were hiding behind cover.
In other words, their opponents had never intended to let them leave alive. Everything they said before had been nothing but lies.
The heavy gunners' laser cannons fired in unison but missed entirely—the giant's movement speed far exceeded their expectations. The Gray Rhino heavy combat suits' targeting systems couldn't effectively lock onto him; they were forced to rely on manual aiming.
Three machine-gun nests that had occupied the high ground erupted in a furious roar, showering Ignis with a rain of iron. Three lines of tracer rounds chased his movements, tearing the withered turf into sprays of dirt.
John Redfield drew a pair of combat knives from his armor's chest holsters, eyes fixed on the white-haired Anby as she flew toward him through the air.
Several heavy gunners noticed her approach, raising their multi-barrel machine guns to intercept, but the dense web of fire they unleashed was shredded apart—deflected by the buzzing chainsaw blade in the girl's hands.
The white-haired girl's speed was astonishing. She shot straight toward one of the gunners, chainsaw sword revving in a shrill whine, ready to rip through armor.
With a bang, Anby slammed into her opponent shoulder-first before landing, knocking him down hard. In the same motion, she drove the spinning blade into his chest.
The Gray Rhino suits were built with layers of ceramic plating and ballistic fibers. By design, they could withstand even direct hits from large-caliber rounds.
But the chainsaw sword belonged to another world entirely. Its razor teeth chewed through layer after layer of armor, sparks bursting into a spray of blood, organs, and shattered bone.
The man didn't die immediately. The sword tore through his body, dragging shredded viscera outward. The gruesome wound and the dying screams made even John—a retired Defense Force captain—feel a chill of fear.
The other heavy gunners reacted instantly, turning their weapons toward Anby and unleashing a torrent of bullets.
Seeing the wall of gunfire coming, Anby yanked her blade free. A crimson arc traced through the air from the blood that sprayed out.
She lowered her body to minimize her target profile and charged forward. As she ran, she spun the chainsaw sword in rapid arcs, batting away the incoming rounds.
The heavy gunner opposite her tried to leap back, but his cumbersome armor made such movements almost impossible. He barely moved a few steps before slamming into a comrade behind him.
That brief pause was all Anby needed. She was already upon him, her bloodied sword slashing down.
He tried to raise his left arm, the built-in machine gun not suited for close quarters but heavy enough to crush. Against most Ethereals or Hollow Raiders, that would've been enough to knock them back or break bones.
But Anby smiled faintly—that was exactly the move she'd been waiting for. She flipped her sword and drove the spinning blade into his exposed armpit.
A scream. A burst of blood. An arm flew high into the air. But it wasn't over—she reversed her grip again and brought the blade down across his shoulder.
There came the sound of agony, the screech of rending metal, and the wet explosion of flesh. Another target was nearly torn in half.
After confirming his death, Anby yanked her sword free and dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding a burst of gunfire from behind. The corpse she'd just felled toppled into another gunner, sending him sprawling—easy prey.
Her blade punched through his back, out his chest, impaling him completely.
Captain John Redfield felt a wave of regret crush him. The girl moved with terrifying precision—more skilled than most Defense Force veterans he'd ever seen. In barely ten seconds, she had slaughtered three heavy gunners, all while under heavy fire.
Ironhammer Security's upper management had deep ties with the military—that was the only reason these ex-soldiers even had access to active-duty suits. Even then, the company only possessed three squads of heavy gunners total.
The contract this time had been a big one—high pay, eighty percent up front. That was why he brought two full squads and the company's prized war machines for what seemed like an easy job.
Just a few more hours, and they could've retreated and celebrated. They never should've tried to get fancy and execute those intruders for fun.
As the Thiren officer pondered how he'd ever explain this to headquarters, Anby had already killed her fourth target. Half a squad gone—just like that.
He wanted to intervene, but the girl's weapon and sheer combat ability made him freeze. Charging in would just make me another corpse.
After felling her fourth foe, Anby noticed Ignis moving nearby in a zigzag sprint. She immediately turned and leapt toward the spectator stands. Grabbing the railing, she vaulted up in one smooth motion.
Only then did John realize—she'd never been targeting the heavy gunners at all. Her real goal was the three machine-gun nests.
A chill ran down his spine. She's not letting a single one of us leave alive…
Behind him came heavy impacts. Two gunners were flung aside, crashing through walls and going silent. His earlier bravado now seemed laughable—back in the Defense Force, he'd only been a supply officer. His tales about cutting throats were complete fabrications. Aside from a few run-ins with Ethereals during transport missions, he'd barely seen real combat.
He'd been discharged after getting caught selling off supplies. Some old favors landed him a post at Ironhammer Security—"Captain" in name only, thanks to a forged recommendation and a fake rank.
John turned—and froze. The giant was right there, clutching two heavy gunners, one in each hand.
Ignis didn't even glance at him. He simply slammed both soldiers into the ground.
The crunch of breaking spines followed. The rest of the squad poured bullets into the giant, but the machine-gun rounds did nothing but spark harmlessly against his armor.
Only the laser cannons made him dodge, and even then, when they hit, they left nothing more than a charred scorch mark.
He didn't need to dodge. He only did it to draw their fire—to cover Anby's advance.
Ignis glanced at the red-bereted officer standing frozen nearby and chuckled quietly. The man had no heavy armor, no real training, and barely the nerve to act. Compared to wasting time on him, the heavy troopers were a genuine threat—stray rounds could hit the client or the Proxy.
The heavy machine guns continued to roar, their ammo made from higher-grade propellants than those used by Vision Corporation. Ignis could feel the faint tremors through his Mark X Gravis Power Armor—impressive for solid rounds.
The enemy squad began spreading out for cover, but Ignis wouldn't allow it. The electromagnetic muscle fibers of his armor surged, propelling him forward in three massive strides.
Unlike before, when he'd been drawing attention, he now fully activated the disintegration field of his power fists. One punch turned the first target into a cloud of blood mist.
At that same moment, he noticed one of the machine-gun nests go silent. Looking over, he saw Anby kick over a gunner, impaling him through the chest—blood spraying across the seats.
The guards around that nest were shredded to pieces—split open or gutted.
Her composure under such carnage was chilling. Without flinching, she dodged through bursts of fire, leaping between seats toward the next nest.
A laser bolt hit Ignis's chest plate, melting the surface layer of ceramite—but only slightly. I'll just reforge that piece later.
Their cannons packed more punch than the Astra Militarum's lasguns, but their recharge rate was abysmal. Ignis charged through, twin fists exploding forward—two more soldiers burst into gore, and a third was kicked flat.
The remaining half-squad knew fleeing was pointless. Their only chance was to concentrate fire from the laser cannons—to kill him outright.
But before they could fire, Ignis spun and surged forward. The squad leader's desperate order—"Open fire!"—came too late.
A thunderous blur filled their sights, his lightning-wreathed fists closing in.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Four muffled impacts. Four explosions of crimson. The entire squad wiped out in seconds.
Meanwhile, Anby's fight was no less brutal. Though the enemy had mined the perimeter with bounding and directional mines, her sharp eyes spotted every infrared trigger before stepping close. And even if a mine leapt, she was fast enough to dash clear before detonation.
Only one machine-gun nest remained—ten meters away.
Six infantrymen stepped forward, wielding massive shields of inert ether-metal and heavy ether blades, forming a semi-circle. Behind them, riflemen with Falcon-MK3 Ether Energy Rifles opened fire in support.
They surrounded her in a tightening arc, tossing fragmentation grenades before she could close the distance.
The other nest had to cease fire to avoid friendly casualties—not that it mattered. The giant was already charging straight at them.
Anby flipped backward, avoiding the grenades' blast radius. Rifle fire forced her into evasive maneuvers as the shield-bearers advanced slowly, shrinking her movement space.
Her power pack began crackling—electricity arcing across her body. The stimulation would leave her in agony later, but for now, she needed speed.
Lightning surged. Her speed skyrocketed. The riflemen couldn't even track her. She dashed straight into the shield wall—her chainsaw sword struck, sparking violently across the reinforced plates.
Those shields were sturdy, but the cutting rate of her weapon was limited. Snarling, she overcharged the blade with high voltage from her pack.
Electric arcs flared. The soldiers in front of her convulsed under the shock, their muscles seizing—their shields slipping free.
The formation broke. Anby kicked one down and slipped inside. Her electrically supercharged muscles gave her explosive speed—a spinning slash followed, the chainsaw shredding flesh with a scream.
Two more shield-bearers split in half, blood spraying across her face and hair.
Once the line broke, the nimble fighter became unstoppable. The riflemen hesitated to shoot for fear of hitting their comrades—until panic took over. They opened fire anyway.
Anby had already predicted that. She sidestepped, and the man she'd knocked down was shredded by friendly fire, blood misting the air.
The slaughter continued. Her sword danced, carving through the last defenders. As the final two shield-bearers fell in halves, she seized one of their shields.
Normally, such shields were too heavy for agile combat. But her muscles, charged with current, carried it effortlessly—she advanced at full speed.
John Redfield knew then that he was doomed. His entire squad was annihilated. Those two Demara siblings—they weren't human. They were monsters, at least Notorious-level Ethereals in human skin.
He regretted everything. If he'd just handed over the goods and claimed mission completion later, this wouldn't have happened.
But he had to show off, flaunting his "superior" forces. Now, his only options were to kill these two demons and return with proof—or die here.
He wasn't ready to die. Ironhammer Security's greatest weapon had been entrusted to him.
The Thiren officer with the red beret reached into his suit, pulled out a tablet, tapped rapidly—then slammed his finger onto the massive red activation button.