Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 99: A Terrifying Power
Ubank’s men carried military-grade crossbows, strings drawn and bolts seated, all aimed at Lannor. One pull of a trigger would be enough to take a life.
From the trigger’s click, to the spring’s release, to the bolt’s flight, the gap was less than three tenths of a second.
So the instant Lannor showed killing intent, the trained men fired without hesitation.
But the bolts, sharp enough to punch through heavy armor and bury themselves deep in muscle, found no blood in that room.
Because a slab of shadow rose from the floor.
It was the table.
Six feet long, four feet wide, solid wood joined plank to plank. At a glance, it weighed no less than fifty kilograms.
Of course, men confident enough to aim crossbows at someone would not ignore such fine cover. That was why Ubank had gone straight to the table and sat beside it the moment he entered the room.
He had seen Lannor slaughter men in Velen. He had seen the witcher perform a one-handed backflip in heavy armor.
Nearly two hundred kilograms of one-handed force.
Yes, terrifying. No argument there.
But human movement required preparation. Leverage. Posture.
Ubank knew the performance of his men’s weapons too well.
Less than three tenths of a second, and those bolts would be in Lannor’s flesh.
And Lannor?
The thick wooden table stood a little below his waist. To lift it, he would have to bend slightly, brace his belly and back, tense his arm, then pull. Could that chain of movement finish in such a short span?
And that posture was poor for exertion. With all his strength, Lannor might use half of it at best.
The table weighed at least fifty kilograms, and Ubank had meant to throw himself onto it the instant Lannor showed resistance, pinning it down with his own body.
Together, that was over a hundred and fifty kilograms.
How could he possibly lift it?
In Ubank’s eyes, Lannor’s best chance had already passed. He should have overturned the table before Ubank reached it, used it as cover, drawn his sword, and forced a close fight.
But once Ubank stood beside the table, the situation was fixed.
Less than three tenths of a second, lifting a hundred and fifty kilograms from a bad stance?
Even a witcher could not do that.
Then Lannor moved, and Ubank, throwing himself over the tabletop to hold it down, felt the truth in his bones.
That strength ... I can’t hold it?
Impossible.
The Skelliger’s eyes bulged as he sprawled over the heavy table. He had pushed down with everything he had, pressing his weight across the boards like a bear on a carcass.
Yet when force drove upward from the table’s edge, his body, his armor, all that bone and meat, offered not even the slightest resistance.
The Gene Seed in Lannor’s chest coordinated nearly every organ in his body. Heart and lungs surged. Muscle efficiency climbed under a brutal flood of hormones.
Lannor’s left hand gripped the table’s edge. The muscles of that arm swelled and bunched. The clasps of the advanced Bear School armor snapped taut with a harsh clatter.
With the Gene Seed driving the motion, his whole body’s strength came faster than three tenths of a second.
More than a hundred and fifty kilograms rose in one hand as if it were a sheet of bark.
Thud, thud, thud.
Before the table even hit the floor, bolts had already buried themselves in it.
The crossbowmen were clearly no amateurs. They had not fired all ten bolts at once. They had staggered their shots by instinct and training.
But that level of discipline was still too plain in front of a tabletop shield six feet long and four feet wide.