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Re-Overlord: I Can Acquire Anything!-Chapter 88: Tactical Retreat!
Chapter 88: Tactical Retreat!
"ROAR!"
The massive Half Dragon, Serynthia, led a charge of twenty Wyverns as they unleashed a devastating barrage onto the Dark Knight.
Fire Breath. Fire Tornadoes. Fire Storms. The sky burned as the creatures attacked in unison, surrounding the Dark Knight in a blazing inferno.
Other beasts joined in, their assaults shaking the ground and tearing through the ruins with terrifying force.
But the Dark Knight only laughed.
"Heh heh... Looks like you’ve awakened a serious ability. Enslaving these poor creatures like this."
With a sudden blur of motion, he cleaved a Wyvern in half using Flash Strike.
"Tsk. Same old loner, Igaris," he scoffed. "You always walked around like you were some chosen hero. When the Vance family ruled, you flaunted every little achievement as if the world should kneel."
His voice suddenly shifted, filled with hatred.
"And you... You tried to take my Aluna from me. How dare you."
Slash!
His Cleaveland came crashing down on the Mountain King Golem, sending the massive creature hurtling into the dirt with a crushing blow.
Bang!
High above, Adrian hovered inside an S-Rank Mech. His expression was cold and amused as he looked down at Igaris’s summoned beasts.
"Heh. If you think these mindless creatures can harm an S-Rank mech, then you’re more foolish than I thought, Igaris."
Igaris remained calm as Adrian’s voice echoed through the battlefield.
The provocation didn’t shake him. If anything, it reminded him of a truth he hated to admit.
His army had no will of their own.
They were bound to him—not by loyalty, but by force. Slaves created unconsciously through his own deep-rooted fear of betrayal. After what happened to House Vance, he couldn’t trust anyone again. Not truly.
And yet... he didn’t want a mindless army.
What he wanted was different. He longed for subordinates who chose to fight beside him. Creatures with their own will, their own hearts, yet loyal beyond question.
But could such an army even exist?
Was it possible to ensure unwavering loyalty without shackles? To forge bonds that would never break, not even under pressure?
It was a question for another time.
Right now, his thoughts snapped back to the present.
His summoned beasts were falling apart like paper dolls under the might of Adrian’s war machine. He clenched his fists, his expression darkening.
At first, he had assumed it was just an A-Rank mech. Strong, but manageable.
Now, that illusion had been shattered.
This was no ordinary weapon. The sheer power, the responsiveness, the presence—it was clear.
This was an S-Rank Mech.
One of the rarest and most powerful engines of war in the Federation arsenal.
And now it was decimating his Acquisition Army.
Even his strongest subordinate, Malthius, had failed to inflict any real damage—despite using his third form: Ancient Berserker’s Strike.
That form was meant to elevate Malthius to monstrous levels of physical power, a trump card saved for the most dire situations. Yet, he had been overwhelmed, tossed aside like nothing.
The mech didn’t just resist the blow.
It crushed it.
Its armor was nearly indestructible, forged from materials Igaris couldn’t begin to identify. It wasn’t just a machine—it was a fortress.
On the other hand, Igaris was only at Master-5. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
The idea of fighting an S-Rank mech directly was beyond foolish. It was suicide.
He had barely survived the last attack, escaping death by triggering [ Undead Recovery ] at the final second. But he knew that ability wouldn’t save him again. It wasn’t omnipotent. It had flaws: cooldowns, weaknesses, limitations, even recoil on his mind and soul.
He couldn’t take another hit like that.
So a decision had to be made quick.
With cold clarity, Igaris ordered a tactical retreat, using his remaining subordinates as a distraction to cover his escape. After all they could be brought back to life. Their deaths won’t be worthless.
As he retreated through the burning skies, Igaris couldn’t suppress the gnawing questions rising in his mind.
How was Adrian able to operate an S-Rank mech?
They had arrived in this world at the same time. They should have had the same starting point.
So how?
How could Adrian operate such a powerful Mecha? That kind of compatibility didn’t come from brute strength alone. It required deep system knowledge, unique talent, or perhaps—
A different kind of transmigration.
Was Adrian still in possession of his predecessor’s memories?
And not just him.
Aluna and Daisy... both displayed the same strange familiarity with this world. As if they weren’t new here. As if they had always belonged.
So why was Igaris the exception?
Why did he feel like a stranger in a world while others were born ready to rule?
He clenched his fists as he vanished into the haze of retreat.
He needed answers.
And next time, he would be the one asking the questions, not the one running from them.
---
Slash!
A flaming arc split the air as Adrian cleaved through another wave of summoned beasts.
"Damn coward! Don’t turn your back on your enemy!" he roared, his voice echoing through the battlefield like thunder.
But it was no use.
Igaris was retreating, slipping farther and farther away into the smoke and chaos.
More monsters surged forward to block Adrian’s path.
They were weak—no doubt about that. But their persistence made them dangerous.
They didn’t fear death. They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t stop.
And that made them annoying.
The Fire Spirits were the worst. Buzzing around like angry insects, they hurled themselves into Adrian’s frame and exploded on impact. Not powerful enough to harm the mech’s armor, but just enough to disorient him. The repeated explosions clouded his sensors and shook his mental focus.
"Get off me!" he snarled.
Above him, the Mountain King Golem summoned layer after layer of massive square domes, shimmering with condensed earth magic. The stone formations dropped like walls, boxing Adrian in and narrowing his field of vision.
He slashed through the first.
Then the second.
And the third.
"Rumble, boom, boom!"
Each impact sent tremors through the ground and kicked up a storm of dust and debris.
But the domes kept coming.
More stone. More obstacles. More distractions.
The longer he fought them, the farther Igaris slipped from his grasp.
"No," Adrian hissed. "You’re not getting away."
He surged forward with a roar, jets firing from the mech’s shoulders and legs, tearing across the air as he tried to break through the interference.
But he knew it.
Deep down, he knew.
This charge was born from rage, not strategy.
There was no real path forward. Just more interference. More summoned beasts. More wasted time.
"Die!" he screamed, cutting down three charging wyverns in a single sweeping strike.
His blade blazed red-hot with overcharge energy, scattering flaming carcasses across the ruined battlefield.
But it was too late.
By the time the last dome shattered beneath his feet, Igaris was gone.
Adrian stood alone, surrounded by smoldering wreckage and silence.
His fists clenched as the mech’s systems slowly returned to a neutral state.
He had lost him.
Again.