Limitless The Strongest Revenant

From the soul signatures, there were fifty people who were part of that first wave. Without any Phantoms, this meant that everyone here who had just arrived had the bodies of humans.

"COME AND GET SOME, YOU FUCKING COWARDS!" I yelled as I rained lead down on the barely arriving figures.

The .45 ACP had another name besides Automatic Colt Pistol. It was also known as the Anti Cow Projectile. It was an amusing bit of history.

Back in 1899, America had to fight what could be called frenzied drug-induced berserker rebels from the Philippines.

In one particular battle, an American officer shot a rebel repeatedly through the lungs with a .38 Long Colt revolver. The rebel took four shots and was still able to stand, falling only after being struck in the head with the butt of a Springfield carbine.

After more and more American soldiers noticed the piss poor performance of the round, a project was set up to replace the .38 Long Colt. But the question was, what would be the right caliber?

Colonel Louis A. LaGarde of the Medical Corps, who had been examining rebel corpses, teamed up with Colonel John T. Thompson of the Infantry and established the Thompson-LaGarde Tests.

The test was basically to see which pistol caliber had enough stopping power to kill a cow with only one magazine. The cartridges tested were the .30 Luger, 9×19mm Parabellum, .38 Long Colt, .38 ACP, .45 Colt, .476 Eley and the .455 Webley.

The winner of the tests was the .45 Colt. So John Moses Browning, the patron saint of guns, created the .45 ACP and the 1911. The results were, as we say, history.

If this caliber could kill a 2,000-pound cow, what the hell was a 180-pound reaper going to do?

Wraiths, even though they had {Fates}, still hadn't mastered their bodies. Because they only adapted to having soul, they were the most brittle of the Reapers. A bullet to the head or heart was enough to bring them down.

One of the reapers who was fastest to appear in the flesh took a .45 ACP to the forehead and fell. The back of his head exploded as his blood splattered his allies.

Not one of his allies panicked, though, and instead came into formation.

Unlike the newbies in the Enlistment, these bastards were trained Reapers. Even if they weren't as diligent as me, these guys were all death seekers. This meant that they, too, had experience liberating at least one fallen zone.

The proof of that experience was that despite my sneak attack, only one person died.

"{BARRIER}!"

Cones of white energy like igloos appeared and protected the saviors. I remember seeing this {Fate} for sale in the Graveyard marketplace.

[{Barrier} - AMD Rating- ***** | Price 500 souls]

[Top 1 in Defensive category. 437 sales in the past 24 hours]

[{Barrier} is an A rank, Manifested Defensive fate. It has the appearance of a turtle brooch. Upon use a defensive shield spawns around the user. Shield is able to defend against physical and energy based attacks up to Phantom grade*.]

It was high on the charts because of its utility. The fact that it could even stop Phantom Grade was amazing. But then I started to wonder? What was considered Phantom Grade?

Modern weapons had numbers and metrics. You could figure out which was more powerful by looking at a weapon's specifications.

In the medieval setting, such numbers were arbitrary.

Contrary to what most people believe, a medieval knight in full plate mail armor would still die if shot by a .45 ACP round. Since the armor was designed to stop blades and arrows, it took a lot of power to pierce through it.

But despite its effectiveness in medieval combat, it would be useless against the arrival of firearms. After all, a person wielding a sword and a bullet fired from a gun had fundamentally different strengths.

"Numbers never lie."

Maybe it was because I couldn't use fantasy weapons, I had to rely on physics. Without stopping, I continued to rain bullets on the barriers.

I switched my POV to Saturday.

With the scope of the BLR 81 I checked the people who were part of the first wave. They were separated into groups of ten. The people at the front reacted quickly. However, they did not do anything else and just walked in.

I then saw a mini meeting take place as members of each ten-person group converged on the group in the middle.

"Is he the leader?"

I moved my scope and took aim. I was now faced with a dilemma.

Do I shoot them with the FT5 and BLR 81 to give away my position, or wait for cover when the mines explode?

"WHAT? IS HIDING BEHIND YOUR FUCKING BARRIERS THE ONLY THING YOU LIMP DICK BASTARDS CAN DO?" I continued to curse the groups with Sunday, but none of them took the bait.

Should I just shoot them with a rocket? No, that would defeat the whole purpose of the plan.

[Exa, have any of the mines been triggered yet?]

[No, Savior has yet to make a move, it seems the teams are still waiting for the effects of the teleportation to subside].

'Ho? It took me a while to get used to being knocked to the ground. Still, what do I do now?'

There were more than five barriers in front of me, my bullets couldn't pass them even though they could kill cows. And despite all my insults, none of them moved or panicked.

'If the first wave is this diciplined, I'm screwed,' I worried.

Luckily, I had already cast {Dampen} on all my weapons, so I didn't even hear the loud gunfire. I sharpened my hearing to pick up on what the Saviors were planning.

"Boss, what are we doing?" I heard a troubled voice.

"Calm down, we don't need to move, and we know all his weapons. Even if he used grenades, they cannot get past the barriers. Let us wait. The mages are already preparing a counterattack."

"But boss! He killed Kenny! Sniff, let me go and take revenge!"

"Shut up, Marv! Stick to the plan! I am the head of this group!"

"Fuck you! Kenny is my brother! I won't stand for this!"

'I see. So, they weren't of one will. I could use that,' I realized.

All it took was a spark. The moment someone broke rank, all hell would break loose. Saturday and Wednesday could capitalize on that moment. Still shooting, I began to change my target to Marv.

"WHAT? I JUST SHOT ONE OF YOU AND YOU ALL STILL STAND STILL? YOU ALL GOT YOUR BALLS IN YOUR GIRL'S PURSE? POOR BASTARD NO ONE EVEN GIVES A CRAP THAT YOU DIED! WHY WON'T ANYBODY DO ANYTHING?"

"This fucking bastard!" I heard Marv yell.

"MARV! STAND DOWN! DIDN'T YOU HEAR THE WARNING, DON'T TALK TO HIM!"

"BUT HE IS ..."

"OR WAS HE THE SAVIOR'S CUM TOILET? DID YOU ALL TAKE TURNS FUCKING HIS ASSHOLE? I COULDN'T SEE HIS FACE SINCE HE DIED SO EASILY, DOES HE HAVE A WIFE? DO YOU ALL FUCK HER TOO?" I continued.

"I'll kill him...."

"Calm down! Can't you see he's trying to get to you? Kenny is dead, deal with it!"

"Just a little bit more," I smiled.

I could feel a large amount of souls converging into the group in the center. I had no idea what kind of {Fate} it was, but souls were always a sign of power.

Whispering under my breath, I used {Announce} at a frequency below what people could hear.

{I command you all. Surrender to your desires.}

This was something I had noticed Jo experimenting with. {Listen} could change the frequency at which sound waves traveled. This made it possible to make objects quieter with {Dampen} or louder with {Announce}.

Ordering zombies had no drawbacks because they were mindless. But when fighting humans, most would know how to counter a command the moment they heard it.

Jo was already experimenting with muting her voice when she used {Announce}.

This meant that the souls would travel through the air, but no one would know. It was terrifying, because from the sidelines it seemed like everything my Italian fought was mind controlled.