The reason Fenric had spent so long fighting the first sentinel robot earlier was simple—he had only been testing its abilities.
It had been little more than play. That was why the fight dragged on.
But now, facing six of them at once, there was no need for testing.
Swish!
The Empyrean Divine Sword sliced through the air.
The leading sentinel was cut clean in half—its legs still running forward while its torso collapsed to the ground.
The Empyrean Divine Sword was invincible.
And in Fenric's hands, its edge was unmatched.
His overwhelming strength drove the blade to perfection. Against soulless killing machines, every strike flowed as smoothly as a river.
Whether slashing sideways or thrusting straight through, the sentinels before him fell like paper cutouts.
In the blink of an eye, all six were reduced to scrap.
Of course, in that short span, their attacks had struck him several times. Six-on-one gave them an advantage in numbers.
But what did it matter if they landed blows?
Their spears shattered against his body. Their weapons couldn't even scratch him.
Fenric stood untouched—an apex warrior whose strength had already surpassed the so-called "Level 5" mutants of this world.
Once he got serious, six sentinels weren't even enough to fill the gaps between his teeth.
Yet machines were not so easily slain.
One sentinel, reduced to half a body, still clung to function. Its face glowed red, energy building in its core as it prepared to fire a laser blast.
Before it could release the shot, Fenric leapt.
He came down hard, his boot crushing its head with a sharp crack.
Even decapitated, the machine writhed, arms flailing desperately as it tried to strike back.
Fenric didn't hesitate. He drove his blade down through its torso. The machine shuddered, sparked, and finally fell limp.
"It seems the core chip and power source are both housed in the torso," Fenric noted calmly. "Destroy either one, and they fall for good."
One by one, he finished the job, ensuring each machine's destruction.
Soon, the battlefield was littered only with useless scrap.
Though sentinel technology allowed limited self-repair, it was never enough to recover from catastrophic damage. A broken limb would not grow back.
Only total destruction of the core guaranteed their end.
That was why mutants who lacked killing power had long been slaughtered without mercy.
High above, in the stealth fighter—
"What kind of monster is he?"
Logan, the mutant known as Wolverine, stared down in disbelief.
Fenric had cut through the sentinels as if slicing melons, as if they were nothing at all.
It terrified him.
Each sentinel was built without metal, its body forged from advanced composite materials designed to resist Magneto's control. They were tough—far tougher than steel alloys.
Even Logan's adamantium claws struggled to pierce their armor.
For him, taking down a single sentinel would drain his stamina. Against two, he would be hard-pressed to survive.
But the man below?
With nothing more than a sword, he had reduced six to pieces before Logan could even blink.
"Charles…" Magneto's voice was low and grave. "Do you know who that young man is? Have you seen him before?"
Professor X's eyes narrowed as he watched Fenric. He shook his head. "No. I don't know when such a powerful mutant appeared."
His voice deepened. "But his potential… it reminds me of Jean."
At that name, the cabin fell silent.
Jean Grey—the Phoenix.
An Omega-level mutant whose power could consume the world.
Those who remembered her knew that once the Phoenix force erupted, nothing could stand against it.
Magneto's expression darkened. If Jean were still here, perhaps the sentinels would never have become a threat…
Logan's jaw tightened. He clearly disliked the memory. "Then do we still go down? That guy doesn't need our help anymore."
Professor X's voice was firm. "Yes. We must meet him."
It was rare to encounter such power. Charles Xavier would not let the chance pass by.
If they could recruit Fenric, their mission to reverse the future might finally succeed.
At his command, Storm guided the fighter into a slow descent.
On the ground—
"Sir, you're incredible!"
The little girl's eyes sparkled with awe.
She had grown up watching countless mutants die, slaughtered mercilessly by sentinels.
This was the first time she had seen someone slaughter the hunters instead—effortlessly, as though it were nothing.
She pointed at the piles of wreckage scattered across the ground.
"Sir… do you still want these?"
Fenric smiled faintly, waving a hand. "If you want them, take them."
"Really?! That's amazing!"
She cheered, her voice bubbling with joy. "Thank you, sir!"
To her, this wreckage was more valuable than gold. On the black market, sentinel scraps fetched the highest price.
With this much, she could trade for food, medicine—enough to keep her and her mother alive. Maybe even enough to buy the medicine her mother so desperately needed.
Without hesitation, she began gathering the pieces, working quickly like a busy little bee.
Fearing Fenric might grow impatient, she looked up nervously and said, "Sir, please wait a moment. I'll be done soon."
Fenric chuckled. "No need to rush. We have guests arriving."
"Guests…?"
The girl blinked. Then her eyes widened.
From the clouds, a sleek fighter jet descended, its metallic surface gleaming.
Her gaze caught the painted symbol on its hull—an unmistakable "X."
Her breath caught.
"Oh my god… It's the X-Men!"