The supporting character's harem is very normal-Chapter 530: Next!

Ikarys heard that and sneered: 'You shouldn't underestimate him. He's strong enough to hold out for a few minutes.'

'Hahahaha…' The man holding the sword burst into laughter: 'Holy Son, let's make a bet. If he lasts more than five minutes, I'll marry my daughter to you. If he lasts under five minutes, I hope you can grant me a high position in the Church.'

Ikarys glanced at Rakka, his eyes filled with disdain: 'Rakka, I told you I'd come back. Don't you remember?'

'Hahaha… This time, you won't be as lucky as before, you worthless mutt.'

Rakka looked at Ikarys, his face void of any emotion. His gaze remained calm—so calm that it unsettled Ikarys.

'No!' Ikarys roared in his heart. 'I can't let him die so easily. He must suffer unimaginable agony. He must beg me like a dog.'

'I am the protagonist of this world. I am the child of destiny. I am the ruler of all.'

'He dared to injure me. He dared to look at me with that disdainful gaze. He must die!'

Ikarys clenched his fists, his eyes filled with rage: "If you can make him kneel before me and bark like a dog, I'll let you command the Church's army."

Hearing that, the sword-wielding man was overjoyed: "Hahaha… Holy Son, you must keep your promise."

"Huh!" Ikarys waved his hand dismissively, his face brimming with arrogance: 'It's just the Church's army. Do you think I care?'

"Hahaha… hahahaha…" The man laughed heartily, his laughter echoing throughout the space: "Good! Holy Son, watch how I turn him into a pathetic, lowly mutt."

'Tsk!' Suddenly, the man holding the shield clicked his tongue: 'Your sword was knocked away by him just now, and you think you can defeat that kid?'

The sword-wielding man frowned, clearly annoyed: "Don't talk to me in that tone. That was just because I wasn't paying attention."

"Huh! Now that I'm serious, even if there were a hundred kids like him, I could easily crush them."

The woman holding the magic staff had remained silent from the beginning. She only observed the sword-wielding man before shifting her gaze to Ikarys, paying particular attention to his shoulder.

"Holy Son, are you injured?"

Upon hearing the woman's question, Ikarys frowned: 'That's none of your concern.'

Despite his outward arrogance and indifference, Ikarys was feeling uneasy inside.

After all, he had fought Rakka earlier, and Rakka's strength had far exceeded his expectations."

"Especially that wooden sword—Ikarys knew very well that it was anything but ordinary.

However, he refused to believe that Rakka was truly that powerful. He assumed that Rakka had temporarily relied on a magical artifact to enhance his strength.

Artifacts with such abilities typically had a short duration, and once their effects wore off, the user would fall into a state of exhaustion.

Because of this, Ikarys saw Rakka as nothing more than a bird with broken wings, moments away from crashing to the ground.

While everyone was talking, Lathel had fully recovered. Thanks to his Half-Vampire physique and the pill Rakka had given him, he was able to minimize his recovery time to the absolute limit.

Visit freёnovelkiss.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.

Lumiana noticed that Lathel had completely recovered and felt a small surge of joy in her heart: 'You've recovered already?'

Lathel nodded. Without warning, he grabbed Lumiana's hand and stepped back.

Being held by Lathel, Lumiana's heart pounded wildly like a startled deer. A strange feeling surfaced in her mind, but it quickly faded away.

"Let's go." Lathel said: "Don't get in his way."

Hearing that, Lumiana was puzzled: "You're helping him? You should know that those four are incredibly strong. He…"

"We just need to watch," Lathel shook his head, cutting Lumiana off."

He knew very well that Rakka was not the impulsive type. He wouldn't have made a move if he wasn't certain of victory.

Those four were indeed strong, but Rakka was the protagonist. Lathel firmly believed that with the protagonist's aura, Rakka was bound to win.

Besides, Lathel had clearly seen it earlier—Rakka had merely swung his sword once and effortlessly sent that man's weapon flying.

Then, he easily took down the Assassin from that group.

Though Lathel found it perplexing—after all, Rakka's level wasn't high, even lower than his own—how could he possibly wield such overwhelming power?

But… Lathel didn't dwell on it. He simply attributed all the unexplained mysteries to the protagonist's aura.

Lumiana, though unable to understand why Lathel was so confident that Rakka could handle the situation, knew she couldn't do anything to help. So, she remained still beside him, allowing him to hold her hand tightly.

"Kid!" The man wielding the sword pointed at Rakka and sneered. "Do you think you can defeat me just because you knocked my sword away?"

"Stop trying to endure it. Using a magical artifact to boost your strength comes with side effects."

"How long… can you last?"

Rakka frowned, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he stared at the man.

For a brief moment, the man shuddered—because in his eyes, Rakka suddenly seemed like a colossal beast, baring its razor-sharp fangs at him.

"You…" The man immediately sobered up.

That feeling lasted only for a fleeting moment before vanishing, making him feel as if he had just experienced an illusion.

'What the hell just happened?' He looked at Rakka with suspicion, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

Ikarys furrowed his brows and shouted, "What the hell are you doing?"

Hearing Ikarys' furious voice, the man regained clarity, and his hands stopped shaking.

He hastily took a step back, his eyes filled with unease.

"Goddamn it!" Suddenly, the gaunt man wielding a dagger shouted, "If you can't do it, let me!"

"Brat! Earlier, you only managed to stab me because I wasn't paying attention, but this time is different. I'll sever all your limbs and hang you from the watchtower until you die."

Rakka glanced at the Assassin, his eyes brimming with disdain. "You talk too much."

"You…" The Assassin gritted his teeth, his face turning red with rage, the veins on his forehead bulging like roots. "You bastard!"

He roared, gripping his twin daggers tightly, and in the next moment, he lunged at Rakka.

His speed was incredibly fast, leaving only a streak of black light like a wisp of smoke trailing toward Rakka.

Rakka showed no fear, nor did his movements indicate urgency or anxiety.

He raised the wooden sword in his hand and then…

Clang!

A sharp metallic clash rang out, yet the twin daggers never actually struck the wooden sword. Instead, they collided against a mysterious protective barrier enveloping it.

"What the hell?" The Assassin was startled, sensing that something was off.

But before he could figure it out, a flash of sword light once again pierced through his abdomen.

"Ack!" The Assassin was sent flying backward, rolling across the ground while screaming in agony. "AAA!!! You bastard! You bastard! I'll kill you!"

"AAA!!"

The sight shook the onlookers, their hearts filled with disbelief.

The Assassin had been impaled through the stomach once again, fresh blood gushing like a fountain. This time, the wound had punctured his stomach, causing him such unbearable pain that he was on the verge of passing out.

The female Mage intended to check on him, but just as she was about to step forward, her instincts suddenly warned her that something was wrong.

The moment her body halted, a beam of light streaked past, shooting into the distance and instantly devouring the Assassin, reducing him to ashes.

The female Mage shuddered, cold sweat pouring down like a stream. Lowering her gaze, she realized that her sleeve had been severed at some point—without her even noticing.

Fortunately, the sleeve was wide enough that her arm remained intact and unscathed.

However, she knew all too well that if she had moved even slightly, that beam of light would also have struck her.

It wouldn't have been much better if her fate hadn't been as gruesome as the Assassin's.

The remaining onlookers were at a loss, unable to decide what expression to wear.

Was that Assassin strong?

Of course. If he weren't, he wouldn't have pushed Lumiana and Lathel to their limits.

Then… why had he been killed so effortlessly?

And more importantly… what the hell was that beam of light?

The crowd turned to Rakka as if expecting him to provide the answer—even Ikarys.

At this moment, Ikarys could finally confirm that Rakka was anything but normal. He… was a monster.

Rakka, the center of everyone's attention, wore an eerily calm expression as though none of this had anything to do with him.

He glanced at the black-cloaked figures, then shifted his gaze to Ikarys and spoke softly: "Next!"