Todos los capítulos de ​Phoenix Wraith: Broken Bond : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Travis, Lionel, and the rest of Class A finally broke through the smoking perimeter, arriving just in time to see Phoenix casually prying an S-rank mana core the size of a bowling ball from the Wyvern’s shattered chest. Beside her, Killian—formerly Class A's top solo vanguard and undisputed heavy hitter—was actively stripping off his ruined silver paladin pauldrons, unbuckling the dented chest plate, and tossing them onto the trash heap like worthless scrap metal. "Killian?!" Travis shrieked, his voice cracking so violently it sounded like a dying bird. "What the absolute fuck are you doing?! You’re my cousin! You’re supposed to lead our front line, not hang out with the garbage!" Killian slowly turned around, pulling off his cracked leather gauntlets. He didn't look like a defeated man; he looked like someone who had just woken up from a ten-year coma and realized he’d been hanging out with absolute idiots. He took a heavy step toward Phoenix, resting a large, scarred hand casuall

The ink on the golden Grand Commander seals wasn’t even dry before Phoenix was marching her crew toward the heavy, star-iron gates of the Imperial Vault like a mob boss arriving to collect overdue protection money. Her steel-toed boots clanked against the polished marble hall, leaving a trail of dried purple monster blood and soot behind her. "Boss," Toby panted, jogging frantically to keep up while dragging his smoking, spark-spitting handcart across the pristine floor. "The Vault Master isn't some low-tier bureaucrat we can just intimidate with loud words. He’s an S-rank administrative enforcer! He’s spent forty years guarding the Academy’s hoard. He doesn't just hand over high-grade mana cores because we wave a shiny gold badge in his face!" "Toby, sweetie," Phoenix drawled, casually tossing her newly minted Grand Commander seal into the air and catching it behind her back without missing a step. "He has two very simple choices today: he opens the vault peacefully, or I use Kill

Vice-Headmaster Sterling’s private office looked less like an academic sanctum and more like a high-society funeral parlor. Sterling sat behind his black marble executive desk, furiously massaging his temples as Travis and Lionel stood before him, looking like two beaten dogs who had been dragged through a mud pit. "Fifteen thousand eight hundred points," Sterling whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, quiet rage. "An F-rank defect. An E-rank tech-smith. And my own nephew's top vanguard. You let them turn the Grand Trials into an absolute, public circus." "Uncle, please!" Travis whined, clutching his bandaged shoulder. "She cheated! She’s hiding something! No F-rank Guide can rip an S-rank Wyvern spike out with her bare hands! She’s a monster!" "She is a low-born rat who got lucky with illegal black-market combat drugs!" Sterling slammed his fist onto the mahogany desk, shattering his crystal brandy glass into sparrows of light. "And tomorrow morning, during the officia

The armored transport rattled over the jagged border gates of Outpost 79, the desperate, wind-battered heart of Sector Seven. Calling it a base was generous. It was a rusted steel fortress built inside an ancient impact crater, surrounded by towering electric fences that flickered and sparked every time a gust of desert wind blew through. The ramp lowered, and Squad Outcast stepped down into the dust. Standing at the staging pad was a tall, sharp-featured woman in a battered combat coat, her long dark hair tied up in a messy braid. She had a tactical sniper rifle slung over her shoulder, a jagged scar running across her left collarbone, and a pair of cold, emerald-green eyes that immediately tracked Phoenix’s movements. Beside her stood a squad of heavily scarred, grim-faced frontline veterans, their weapons held at low ready. "You're the reinforcement from the Academy?" the woman asked, her voice like cracked ice as she stepped forward, looking down at Phoenix’s uniform. Her eye

Malakor didn’t even have time to rev his twin plasma chainsaws before Phoenix closed the gap like an SSS-rank blur. She grabbed him by his metal-reinforced throat, picked his three-hundred-pound cyborg ass up with one hand, and slammed him into the gravel so hard his ocular sensors burst into sparks. "Sterling paid five million credits for my head?!" Phoenix roared, planting her boot squarely on his metallic chest plate and leaning in. "I’m worth at least fifty million, you budget-bin toaster!" "Shoot her! Shoot the bitch!" Malakor gargled through his broken vocal synthesizer. A dozen Viper Syndicate mercenaries lined up their heavy rifles, but before a single trigger could be pulled, a golden comet smashed into their front line. Killian arrived like an absolute wrecking ball. His SS-rank aura flared so bright it lit up the canyon, his greatsword sweeping in a wide, terrifying arc that sheared through enemy power armor like warm butter. "Get your filthy hands off my Boss!" Killi