Chapter 329: What happened here?
"Heh…One would expect that, one rat would be better at finding another….I guess that is not true."
Jayan's sharp gaze darted to Varos, and she didn't miss the smug grin creeping onto his face. "You let them escape too," she said curtly, her voice edged with ice. "I assume you're not here to gloat about a victory."
Varos let out a booming laugh, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "Let them escape? No, no, Jayan. I was cleaning up your mess." His amber eyes gleamed with malice as he turned toward her fully. "Though it's no surprise you'd let them slip through your fingers. After all, rats know their own kind."
The insult struck hard, and Jayan's composure cracked. She scoffed, her grip tightening on her blade. "Careful, Varos. Your oversized ego might make you forget that you're no closer to catching them than I am."
The wiry elder chuckled darkly, stepping closer to join Varos. "Oh, we didn't lose them because of incompetence, dear Jayan. Unlike you, we don't have a natural kinship with vermin. Maybe that's why they slip away when you're around."
Jayan's two allies bristled, their glares fixed on the original Crimson Serpent elders. The scarred elder stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. "Watch your tongue, Varos, or I'll remind you why we're here in the first place."
Varos turned his sharp gaze on him, his grin fading into a dangerous scowl. "You think you can threaten me? You're here because you couldn't keep your own sect standing, and don't think I've forgotten that."
The tension between the groups rose sharply, mana crackling faintly in the air as tempers flared.
The crackling tension between the groups was interrupted when the wiry elder spoke up, his sharp tone cutting through the argument. "Wait… don't you think it's strange?"
Varos turned to him, scowling. "Strange? What are you babbling about now?"
The wiry elder ignored the irritation in Varos's voice, his smirk replaced by a thoughtful expression. "These mercenaries wreaked havoc across the city, causing chaos left and right. But the moment we arrived, they scattered like rats. They didn't even try to fight back—not in any meaningful way."
Elder Jayan, still simmering with frustration, narrowed her eyes. "What's your point? They're cowards. They knew they couldn't stand against us."
The wiry elder shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean. If they knew we had strong elders like us, why would they even attack in the first place? With their measly strength, it's suicidal."
Varos grunted, his grip tightening on his axe. "Maybe they're just mad dogs. Who knows what rabble like that think?"
Jayan's scarred ally stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "Mad dogs don't fight with coordination like that. Did you see how they moved? How they isolated and struck specific targets? That wasn't random. They had a plan."
The wiry elder snapped his fingers, nodding. "Exactly. And yet, when we showed up, they didn't even attempt to resist. They ran, scattering into the night like their job was already done."
Jayan's gaze sharpened as the implication sank in. "Stalling," she muttered, her voice low and cold.
Varos stiffened, his amber eyes narrowing. "What are you suggesting?"
Jayan turned toward him, her composure regaining its edge. "If their goal wasn't to win, but to stall us, it changes everything. The chaos they caused, the scattered attacks, the retreats—it all makes sense if their main objective was somewhere else."
The wiry elder crossed his arms, his expression contemplative. "Maybe they were after the warehouses," he said, glancing at the others. "It would make sense. They could be looking to steal supplies or trade goods. But even then, it feels off. The warehouses don't hold anything that valuable—at least not enough to warrant this kind of stunt."
Elder Varos scowled, his grip tightening on the haft of his axe. "That's because the sect keeps all its valuable items in the armory beneath the main mansion. And no one in their right mind would even think of targeting that. Not with the Patriarch there."
Jayan's silver-streaked hair glimmered as she tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze fixed on Varos. "Exactly. The Patriarch's strength is unmatched in this region. Even these mercenaries, reckless as they are, wouldn't dare attack the armory with him guarding it. It's suicide."
The scarred elder nodded, his brow furrowing. "Then why? What's the point of all this chaos? They've lost too many people for this to be a simple raid."
The wiry elder smirked faintly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "Maybe they're just insane. Or maybe there's something we're missing."
Jayan's frustration was evident in the tightness of her jaw as she sheathed her blade. "Whatever the case, their actions don't add up. If they were targeting the warehouses, we'd have caught them by now. If they had a larger plan, they wouldn't have retreated so easily. And yet…"
Varos cut her off with a growl, his amber eyes narrowing. "Enough speculation. We've wasted enough time chasing shadows. Let's return to the mansion and report to the Patriarch. He'll know how to handle this."
The wiry elder raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "For once, I agree. The Patriarch will want to hear about this… whatever it was."
Jayan's lips thinned, her irritation barely concealed. "Fine. Let's regroup and report. But this isn't over. Something about this still doesn't sit right."
The elders moved swiftly through the streets of Thornridge, their qinggong-enhanced steps carrying them over rooftops and through alleyways. The city was eerily quiet now, the chaos of the mercenaries' attack reduced to smoldering ruins and scattered corpses. The disciples they passed bowed low, their faces pale and shaken from the night's events.
Just then, as they approached the towering gates of the Crimson Serpent Sect's main mansion, a strange unease settled over them. The air felt heavy, charged with an unnatural energy. A metallic tang hung in the still night, faint at first but growing stronger with every step.
"What the—?" Varos growled, his senses sharpening. His grip tightened on his axe as his amber eyes scanned the darkness ahead. "Something's wrong."
Jayan slowed, her sharp gaze darting toward the source of the smell. Her voice was calm, but tension laced her words. "This smell... it's blood."
The wiry elder's smirk vanished, his expression turning grim. "Not just blood. A lot of it."
Without another word, the elders burst into motion, their qinggong movements carrying them swiftly through the gates and into the mansion's courtyard. The sight that greeted them stopped them in their tracks.
Piles of corpses lay scattered across the courtyard, their crimson robes unmistakable. The disciples who had been left behind were now broken, lifeless forms. Blood pooled across the polished stone, glinting ominously under the faint moonlight.
"What…?" Varos breathed, his voice heavy with disbelief. His axe lowered slightly as his eyes swept over the scene. "How is this possible?"
The scarred elder stepped forward, his jaw clenched tightly. "This… this can't be real. These were the disciples guarding the mansion."
Jayan's silver-streaked hair shimmered as she moved cautiously toward the nearest pile of bodies, her expression icy and unreadable. Her blade was already drawn, its edge glinting in the faint light. "It's real," she said quietly. "Someone did this. And they did it with precision."
Before anyone could respond, a sharp SWOOSH cut through the air. A black beam of light streaked across the courtyard, its speed blinding. It struck one of the elders square in the neck, piercing through his artery in a single, precise motion.
SPURT!
Blood erupted from the wound, spraying across the courtyard as the elder collapsed, clutching at his throat. His gasping breaths were drowned out by the sound of blood splattering against the cold stone.
"What?!" Varos roared, spinning around to locate the source of the attack. His eyes burned with fury as he raised his axe defensively.
Jayan's blade was already in motion, her sharp gaze darting toward the direction of the beam. "Show yourself!" she demanded, her voice echoing through the blood-soaked courtyard.
A faint chuckle echoed through the air, low and mocking. The sound carried an unsettling calmness that sent a shiver down the spines of even the hardened elders. From the shadows of the courtyard, a figure emerged, his steps unhurried and deliberate.
The man who revealed himself was tall and lean, his presence exuding an aura of quiet menace. His dark cloak billowed slightly in the faint wind, and his piercing eyes gleamed with an unnatural light. In his hand, he held a blade that shimmered with the faint glow of starlight—black and pulsating, as if alive.
"Ho..." the man said, his voice smooth and mocking. "You've finally returned. I was beginning to think you'd abandoned your precious sect."
His gaze swept over the elders, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "And here I thought I'd have to hunt you down myself."
Varos growled, his amber eyes blazing with fury. "Who are you?! What have you done here?"
The man tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Who am I? A fair question, but hardly relevant. What I've done, however..." He gestured casually toward the scattered corpses around him, his tone almost playful. "Well, that should be obvious, shouldn't it?"
Jayan stepped forward, her blade gleaming with mana as her voice cut through the tension. "You're responsible for this massacre. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?"
The man chuckled softly, his piercing gaze meeting hers. "Yup…..I, of course, know who am I dealing with…..Do you think I would have come here if I didn't?" He said with his smirk wide.
"Hmm…..So, you are the one named Jayan…..Heh….The rat…." His eyes turned, his tone dripping with disdain. "Well, it is time to pay for the actions."
Chapter 330: A pity
Lucavion's smirk widened as his dark eyes swept over the remaining elders. The five figures stood tense, their weapons drawn and mana flaring in a futile attempt to mask their fear. The blood-soaked courtyard was silent except for the faint crackle of energy radiating from his blade.
"Well," he drawled, his voice calm and laced with mockery, "it seems we've dwindled down to just five. A pity. I was hoping for a more lively welcome."
His gaze settled on the wiry elder, who stood rigid, his sharp features tight with wariness. Then it shifted to Varos, whose amber eyes blazed with fury, his grip on his axe white-knuckled. Finally, Lucavion turned his attention to Jayan and the two scarred elders beside her. His smirk faded, replaced by a cold, piercing stare.
As he regarded them, Vitaliara's voice echoed in his mind, heavy with both sorrow and anger. [Lucavion… listen carefully. Jayan and the two with her—those are the traitors. They betrayed the Azure Blossom Sect. They're the ones who sold us out to the Crimson Serpent Sect.]
Lucavion's eyes flickered with understanding, though his expression remained unreadable. 'And the others?' he asked silently.
[Varos and the wiry elder…] Vitaliara's voice softened slightly, though it still carried an edge of disdain. [They were once part of the Crimson Serpent Sect's original leadership. They may be cruel, but their loyalty lies within their own twisted sense of order. The true corruption, the betrayal, rests with Jayan and her allies.]
Her tone grew harsher, trembling with suppressed fury. [Jayan… that girl. I gave her everything. My [Fire of Life], my guidance, my protection. I saw potential in her—potential to grow, to lead. And she repaid me with treachery. She didn't just betray the sect; she betrayed me.]
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto Jayan. Her silver-streaked hair glinted faintly in the moonlight, but her composed facade was cracking under the weight of his gaze. "You," he said, his voice sharp and unyielding, "must be Jayan."
Jayan stiffened, her blade twitching in her grip. "What of it?" she snapped, her tone defiant, though a flicker of unease crossed her face.
Lucavion chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. "I heard you were quite the prodigy. A disciple with untapped potential, nurtured and protected by a certain someone."
Jayan's eyes narrowed, her knuckles tightening around her blade. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said tersely.
Lucavion stepped closer, the glow of his blade illuminating his face in the dim light. "Don't you?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. "You had a guardian once. A protector who saw something in you worth saving. And you betrayed her."
Jayan flinched, her composure slipping further. The two scarred elders at her side exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence faltering.
Varos growled, stepping forward with his axe raised. "Enough of this! If you've come to kill us, then stop your games and face us!"
Lucavion didn't even spare him a glance. His focus remained on Jayan, his smirk widening as her defiance crumbled under his unrelenting gaze. "You're right," he said softly, his tone chilling. "It's time to pay for your actions."
He moved in an instant, his blade a blur of black starlight. The scarred elder to Jayan's left barely had time to react before the estoc pierced his heart with precision. Blood spurted from the wound, and the man collapsed with a strangled gasp.
Jayan let out a sharp cry, her blade flashing as she lunged at Lucavion. But he sidestepped easily, his movements fluid and deliberate. "You're quick to strike," he remarked, his voice calm, "but I wonder if you're quick enough to save yourself."
The remaining elders exploded into action, mana flaring as they charged. Varos's axe swung with deadly force, but Lucavion met it with his estoc, the clash of metal ringing through the courtyard. The wiry elder circled behind him, attempting a flanking strike, but Vitaliara's glowing form leapt from Lucavion's shoulder, intercepting with a flash of celestial fire.
Jayan shouted orders, her voice sharp with desperation. "Focus on him! Take him down—"
She was cut off as Lucavion's blade whirled toward her, forcing her back with a calculated strike. He smiled coldly, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "You betrayed your guardian, your sect, your people. Do you think you're worthy of giving orders now?"
Jayan's silver-streaked hair whipped around her face as she snarled, her blade igniting with a burst of mana. "I don't need your judgment," she spat. "You don't know anything about me."
Lucavion's smirk faded, his gaze hardening. "I know enough," he said simply, his voice cutting like a blade.
And with that, he pressed the attack.
********
Lucavion raised his head, his smirk widening as his dark eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. The five elders surged toward him, their mana flaring in a chaotic symphony of colors and energies. But Lucavion remained unfazed, his confidence palpable as he raised his estoc.
SWOOSH!
The blade glowed with a black starlight that pulsed with eerie vitality, as though it drew power from the very fabric of the cosmos. Simultaneously, his other hand ignited with a brilliant black-and-orange flame—the signature of his [Flame of Equinox] core. The heat radiating from his hand was oppressive, twisting the air around him into distorted waves.
"What? What is this?"
"How can he have two different elements?"
"Artifact!"
"Heh! Just because you have an artifact….." Jayan spat, her voice laced with both anger and disbelief. "Do you think that makes you untouchable?"
Lucavion chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "It doesn't just make me untouchable," he said, his tone sharp with finality. "It makes you irrelevant."
He surged forward, his blade flashing with starlight as he met Varos's incoming axe head-on.
SWOOSH!
Varos brought his axe down with a roar, its massive weight fueled by a fiery crimson mana. But Lucavion's estoc, enhanced by his [Devourer of Stars] core, intercepted the strike with a resounding CLANG! The energy coursing through the blade absorbed the impact, deflecting the axe with a burst of shimmering black light.
In the same motion, Lucavion's flame-clad hand thrust outward, releasing a jet of searing fire toward the wiry elder who had been circling him. The man let out a startled cry as he dodged to the side, the flames scorching the edge of his robes.
"You'll have to do better than that," Lucavion said, his voice dripping with disdain as he twisted his body to avoid a thrust from Jayan. Her blade missed by a hair's breadth, and Lucavion countered with a precise thrust of his own, forcing her to leap back.
Lucavion's movements were a blur of precision and chaos.
「Void Starfall Blade. Eclipse Star Trail」
SWOOSH!
In an instant, his estoc darted like a serpent, piercing through the defense of the scarred elder on Jayan's right.
STAB!
The blade struck true, black starlight surging through the man's body as he collapsed with a strangled gasp.
At the same time, with his flame-clad hand, Lucavion released a wave of fire toward the wiry elder. The black-white flames consumed the space between them, forcing the elder to retreat with a desperate shield of mana.
SWOOSH!
Varos's axe came swinging again, but Lucavion sidestepped with unnerving grace, using the opening to lash out with his blade. The edge of the estoc skimmed Varos's side, drawing a thin line of blood and eliciting a growl of pain.
The three remaining elders regrouped, their mana pooling together as they prepared a coordinated assault. Jayan's voice rang out, commanding the others. "Surround him! Don't let him control the space! Just wait until the patriarch comes out!"
Lucavion laughed, the sound dark and unhinged. "Control the space?" he repeated, mockingly. "It's mine already."
The elders attacked in unison.
Jayan lunged forward with her mana-infused blade, her silver-streaked hair whipping around her face.
Varos came from the side, his axe blazing with renewed fervor as he swung with crushing force.
The wiry elder aimed a spear-like projection of mana directly at Lucavion's core.
Lucavion's response was seamless.
SWOOSH!
He raised his estoc, its black starlight flaring brighter than ever.
「Void Starfall Blade: Starlight Needle」
The blade danced through the air, parrying Jayan's strike and redirecting her momentum into Varos's path.
「Flame of Equinox: Blast of Death」
At the same time, his flame-clad hand surged with power. He thrust it outward, a concentrated burst of fire obliterating the wiry elder's mana projection and forcing him to stumble back.
Finally, Lucavion pivoted, his estoc slicing downward in an arc of destructive starlight that struck Varos's axe mid-swing. The weapon shattered under the force, sending shards of molten metal flying.
CLANK!
"ENOUGH!"
Jayan roared, her mana flaring wildly as she unleashed her aura.
The energy of a peak 3-star surged forward, as she rushed.
Jayan surged forward, her blade trailing brilliant arcs of azure mana as her technique ignited the battlefield. The energy coiled and pulsed like living vines, a hallmark of the Azure Blossom Sect's [Blooming Petal Slash], a series of rapid, unpredictable strikes that overwhelmed opponents with speed and precision.
Lucavion's smirk widened as he stood his ground, his estoc raised in a loose, unhurried grip. He could sense it—the faint but unmistakable traces of Vitaliara's presence lingering in the technique. The irony was delicious.
"Using the technique of the sect you betrayed…" he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "As expected of a rat."
He was smiling, still.
Chapter 331: A pity (2)
[Blooming Petal Slash]
A technique that Jayan had learned from Vitaliara personally.
A series of rapid, unpredictable strikes that overwhelmed opponents with speed and precision.
'No matter who you are, you can't win against this.'
Jayan's eyes burned with fury, her silver-streaked hair whipping around her face as she poured everything into the assault. The azure light flared, creating a mesmerizing display of petals spinning and slashing toward Lucavion.
But he didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his blade, pointing it directly at her with the calm precision of a predator about to strike.
「Void Starfall Blade: Starsurge」
With a sudden burst of speed, Lucavion dashed forward, his black starlight-infused blade piercing through the azure petals as if they were mere illusions. Jayan's eyes widened in shock as she realized too late that her technique was unraveling before his.
The estoc moved like a blur, darting forward to pierce her torso with a devastating precision that sent her staggering back, blood spraying into the air. In the same fluid motion, Lucavion's blade traced a deadly arc, severing both of her arms at the elbows. Her sword clattered to the ground, the azure glow fading as her screams echoed through the courtyard.
"You're finished," Lucavion said coldly, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction as he stepped back, his blade dripping with blood.
But before he could press his advantage further, a roar erupted behind him.
"DIE!"
Varos charged with everything he had, his flaming aura flaring wildly as he swung a replacement axe conjured from his fiery mana. The elder's face was a mask of desperation and rage as he aimed to strike Lucavion down, if only to buy time for the patriarch to intervene.
Lucavion turned with a bored expression, raising his estoc lazily to block the incoming attack. The clash of their weapons sent a shockwave rippling through the courtyard, but this time, Lucavion didn't let Varos pull away.
"You're stalling," Lucavion observed, his voice calm but sharp with disdain. "You think if you hold out long enough, help will come. The patriarch, perhaps?"
Varos gritted his teeth, his flames intensifying as he pushed harder against Lucavion's blade. "You won't win," he spat. "You don't know what you've brought upon yourself!"
Lucavion tilted his head, his smirk returning. "Oh, I know exactly what I've brought upon myself," he said. Then, with a sudden twist of his blade, he deflected Varos's axe and stepped inside his guard.
The move was so fast, so precise, that Varos barely had time to react before Lucavion's flame-clad hand thrust forward.
「Flame of Equinox: Starflare Palm」
A burst of black-orange flames exploded from Lucavion's palm, slamming into Varos's chest and sending him flying backward. The elder crashed into the ground, rolling to a stop with his axe clattering away from his grasp.
Lucavion turned back to Jayan, who was crumpled on the ground, blood pooling around her. Her eyes were wide with terror and disbelief as she stared up at him.
"You don't get to speak for Vitaliara's legacy," Lucavion said softly, his voice cold as death itself. "You forfeited that right the day you betrayed her."
He turned his attention back to Varos, who was struggling to rise, his body trembling with exertion. Lucavion pointed his blade at the elder, his black flames coiling around the weapon like serpents.
*******
Varos staggered to his feet, his chest heaving as the lingering heat from Lucavion's attack burned against his skin. His fiery mana flickered around him, struggling to maintain its usual ferocity. Blood dripped from a shallow wound on his side, staining the crimson robes he wore as a symbol of authority. His gaze flicked to Jayan, crumpled and broken on the ground, then to the wiry elder, who was barely holding his defensive stance.
Lucavion stood at the center of it all, his dark blade gleaming with black starlight and his flame-clad hand exuding an oppressive heat. His smirk hadn't faltered, and his dark eyes glinted with an unsettling confidence that gnawed at Varos's resolve.
'This isn't possible,' Varos thought, his mind racing. From the moment they'd returned to the mansion, nothing had made sense. The Patriarch was nowhere to be seen, the disciples were slaughtered, and now this man—a complete enigma—was cutting through their ranks as though they were nothing.
Where is the Patriarch? The thought burned in his mind, louder than his mounting frustration. How could all of this happen with him here? Did he leave? Was he… Varos forced the possibility out of his head. No. The Patriarch was the strongest in the region. There was no way he could have been defeated.
'But then how is this happening?'
Varos tightened his grip on his replacement axe, his amber eyes narrowing as he analyzed his opponent. Lucavion hadn't shown a single opening throughout their fight. Every strike, every movement, was calculated and precise, as though he were toying with them.
'What is with that starlight?' Varos thought, his gaze flicking to the glowing estoc. The blade pulsed with a strange, otherworldly energy, its power unlike anything Varos had encountered before. It wasn't just powerful—it was unnatural.
And then there was the fire. Black and orange flames coiled around Lucavion's free hand, radiating heat that warped the air and left scorch marks wherever they touched. It wasn't the fire itself that unnerved Varos, but the way Lucavion wielded it. His control was too precise, too effortless, as though the flames were an extension of his very being.
'How can he command two distinct elements?' Varos wondered, sweat beading on his brow. Even if Lucavion were using an artifact to generate one of the elements, it didn't explain the seamless control he exhibited. The starlight and the flames moved in perfect harmony, as though they were born from the same source.
'But that's impossible,' Varos thought, his grip tightening on his weapon. No human could command two elements from their core. It defied the very nature of cultivation.
Varos's thoughts were interrupted as Lucavion moved again, his estoc slicing through the air in a blur of motion. The wiry elder barely managed to deflect the strike, his mana shield crackling under the force. Lucavion didn't pause, following up with a burst of flames that forced the wiry elder to stumble back.
"Is this all the Crimson Serpent Sect has to offer?" Lucavion asked, his voice calm but dripping with disdain. He turned his gaze to Varos, his smirk widening. "Surely you can do better than this."
Varos snarled, his fiery mana surging as he launched himself forward. His axe came down in a powerful arc, flames trailing behind it, but Lucavion sidestepped effortlessly, his estoc darting out to meet Varos's exposed side.
CLANG!
The sound of steel meeting steel rang out as Varos twisted his body, blocking the strike at the last moment. But the force of the blow sent him skidding back, his feet digging into the blood-soaked ground.
'This is…..'
Varos's chest heaved as he steadied himself, his grip tightening on his axe. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the blood splattered across his face. His fiery mana flared in defiance, but deep down, an unsettling realization began to take root.
'This is… impossible,' he thought, his amber eyes fixed on Lucavion. Every strike, every counter, had been met with an unrelenting precision that left no room for error. The starlight-infused blade and the black-orange flames moved with an eerie harmony, forcing him and the others onto the defensive at every turn.
Behind him, the wiry elder stumbled back, his mana shield flickering weakly as he struggled to recover from Lucavion's relentless assault. Jayan, bloodied and trembling, had managed to push herself to her knees, her silver-streaked hair plastered to her face with sweat. The sight of her—once so composed, now broken—only deepened Varos's dread.
'We can't win this,' Varos realized, his jaw tightening. The gap in power was insurmountable. Lucavion wasn't just strong; he was something else entirely, something beyond their comprehension. But they couldn't retreat. Not now.
'We just need to hold him off,' Varos thought, his gaze flicking to the main doors of the mansion. 'If we can stall long enough, the Patriarch will come. And when he does…'
Varos's thoughts were interrupted by Lucavion's voice, cold and mocking.
"If you're thinking of stalling until Vaelric comes…" Lucavion said, his smirk widening as his dark eyes swept over the remaining elders. "Then I'm sorry to inform you—he's dead."
The words hung in the air like a death knell. Varos froze, his grip on his axe faltering as his mind struggled to process what he'd just heard.
"What?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His amber eyes blazed as he glared at Lucavion, searching for any sign of deceit. "You're lying."
Lucavion tilted his head, his smirk never wavering. "Am I?" he asked, his tone almost playful. "You've seen the bodies, haven't you? The blood-soaked halls, the disciples slaughtered like lambs. Did you really think Vaelric would sit idly by while his precious sect was torn apart?"
Jayan let out a strangled gasp, her hands trembling as she clutched at her wounds. "No… that's… impossible," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The Patriarch… he can't…"
Lucavion's expression turned cold, his smirk fading as he stepped closer, his blade glinting ominously in the dim light. "That guy was kind of strong…..If you all were here, then I would most likely have lost an arm or something…..But, that was why those guys distracted you after all….."
The realization struck Varos like a hammer blow.
'This was all planned,' he thought, his grip on his axe slackening as the pieces fell into place. The mercenaries, the chaos across the city, the carefully coordinated attacks—it hadn't been a reckless assault after all. It was a diversion. A meticulously crafted scheme to lure the elders away from the mansion, leaving the sect's heart exposed.
And they had walked right into it.
The wiry elder's voice trembled as he finally found his words. "You… you planned all of this… just to take out the Patriarch?"
Lucavion turned his gaze to him, his smirk widening. "Of course. You don't cripple a beast by cutting at its legs. You strike the heart. The Patriarch was the heart of this sect, and now?" He gestured to the blood-soaked courtyard around him, the lifeless bodies strewn across the ground. "Now, there's nothing left but broken pieces."
Varos's axe slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground with a hollow thud. His shoulders sagged, and for the first time in years, the fire in his amber eyes flickered and dimmed. He stared at Lucavion, the man who had dismantled everything he had spent his life protecting, and saw no way forward.
'He's right,' Varos thought, his chest tightening. 'The Patriarch is gone. The disciples are dead. The sect… it's finished.'
Jayan let out a shaky breath, her silver-streaked hair plastered to her face as she looked at him.
"Why?" And she asked.
"Why?" Lucavion replied. "I just did uphold my promise. That was why. But if I were to say….it was mostly because of you, Rat Jayan…..I just felt like crushing this sect. If you had not betrayed Vitaliara and lost honorably, I would come to this sect and would have saved all of you guys remaining. Not that Vaelric and Thailon of course, but most would live. But well, I needed to set an example."
"Example for who? There is no one remaining…..Cough-!"
"Well, an example for the readers of course….Hehe…"
Chapter 332: Jayan
Jayan knelt on the blood-soaked ground, her arms trembling as she tried to steady herself. The weight of her broken body was nothing compared to the weight pressing down on her mind—an inescapable torrent of memories that she had buried deep, now clawing their way back to the surface.
Her silver-streaked hair clung to her face, matted with sweat and blood, as she stared at the figure before her—Lucavion. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through her very soul, stripping away every layer of strength and pride she had carefully built over the years. Her hands curled into fists, pressing against the cold, wet stone beneath her.
'How… how did it come to this?'
Jayan had not been born into privilege. The dusty streets of Thornridge had been her cradle, its biting winds her lullaby. Her family—her parents, her two younger siblings—had lived in a crumbling shack on the city's outskirts. Her father had been a laborer, her mother a seamstress, but no matter how hard they worked, there had never been enough.
She could still remember the pangs of hunger that had gnawed at her tiny frame, the days when a crust of bread was all they had to share. Jayan, though only a child, had been forced to work as well—fetching water, running errands, anything to earn a few coppers. Life had been cruel and unrelenting, and for a time, she believed that was all the world had to offer.
But then they came.
Jayan's eyes glimmered faintly as she remembered that day, even now in the face of despair. The robed figures of the Azure Blossom Sect had arrived in Thornridge, their presence like a gust of wind that stirred the stagnant air of her hopeless life.
She had watched them with wide eyes, her curiosity piqued as they spoke to townsfolk, their flowing robes and calm, otherworldly aura setting them apart from anyone she had ever seen. But she hadn't expected them to see her.
One of them—a kind-looking elder—had approached her family as she worked tirelessly in a small courtyard. He had noticed something, something she had not understood at the time.
"Your daughter has a rare gift," he had said. "A natural aptitude for cultivation."
The words had changed her life. She had not known what cultivation was, but when the elder explained—when he said she could become an Awakened, that her family would be provided for—Jayan had felt hope for the first time. Real, tangible hope.
Her parents had wept with relief, clinging to her as though she were salvation itself.
"Be strong, my little Jayan," her father had said, his voice hoarse. "You'll change our lives. You'll make us proud."
Jayan's introduction to the Azure Blossom Sect had been overwhelming. She had arrived at the gates with nothing but a threadbare dress and wide, frightened eyes. But within those ancient walls, she had found a new home—a place where she belonged.
Her aptitude for cultivation had been remarkable, her growth unparalleled among the other disciples. She had risen quickly, praised for her focus, her determination. But what had truly set her apart was her physique. A unique constitution that made her mana flow stronger, more vibrant.
The day she met her—the Lady Vitaliara—was seared into her mind forever. The guardian beast of the Azure Blossom Sect, an ethereal being of immense power and beauty, had seen Jayan's potential before anyone else. Her radiant form had appeared to Jayan during her cultivation, a presence both awe-inspiring and gentle.
"You are different," Vitaliara had said, her voice resonant, like the hum of a celestial bell. "I will teach you."
Lady Vitaliara had become Jayan's master, her guide, her everything. Under the guardian beast's watchful eye, Jayan had grown stronger, faster, more capable than she could have ever imagined. The techniques Vitaliara taught her were unlike anything the sect had ever seen—graceful, deadly, and imbued with power beyond measure. The Blooming Petal Slash, a technique that symbolized beauty and destruction in harmony, had become her pride.
In those years, Jayan had believed she was destined for greatness. She had trusted Vitaliara with all her heart, convinced that her place within the Azure Blossom Sect was unshakable.
But destiny was not kind.
When the Crimson Serpent Sect came with their offers of power and promises of glory, Jayan had hesitated. The Azure Blossom Sect had grown complacent, its traditions holding it back while others sought strength without restraint. The whispers of betrayal had crept into her mind like poison.
"Why remain loyal to a dying sect?" they had asked her. "Why cling to weakness when you can thrive?"
The words had struck her like a dagger.
Vitaliara. Her master. The one who had lifted her from the dust and shown her what it meant to dream, to rise above the life she had been born into.
Jayan had stared at the emissary from the Crimson Serpent Sect, disbelief coiling tightly around her chest like a vice. "You want me to betray her?"
The emissary, a man with serpentine eyes and an unsettling calm, only smiled. "It is not betrayal, Jayan. It is evolution. The Guardian Beast's blood holds a strength beyond mortal comprehension—a strength that can break the chains binding you to mediocrity."
Chains. That word lingered.
Jayan looked at her hands, at the callouses from countless hours of cultivation. She thought of the Azure Blossom Sect's walls—walls she had once seen as shelter, as salvation, but which now seemed more like a cage. The matriarch's voice echoed in her mind: "Patience. Strength comes to those who wait."
But Jayan no longer wanted to wait.
'They're holding me back.'
It was not an easy truth to accept. It felt like betrayal to even think it, but the seed had been planted. The elders lacked ambition. They clung to their traditions with a desperate, choking grip, content to let the world pass them by. And what of Jayan? Would she remain within those walls, shackled by their complacency, forever waiting for a destiny they did not have the will to claim?
'No.'
And yet…
Her mind turned to Vitaliara, her radiant form appearing in her memories as clear as starlight. The master who had believed in her when no one else had. Who had nurtured her talents, had given her everything.
Jayan felt her throat tighten, guilt rising like bile. How could I even consider it?
"Your hesitation is admirable," the emissary said, his voice smooth, measured, as though he could hear the war raging in her thoughts. "It shows loyalty, which is an honorable trait. But what has loyalty earned you, Jayan? Have they made you their leader? Have they shared their secrets? No. They have only used your talents to uphold a dying name."
She flinched.
Used. That word stung more than it should have. Had she not proven herself time and again? Had she not bled for the Azure Blossom Sect, pushed herself to the brink, only to be met with kind smiles and empty promises of "one day?"
One day was not enough.
"Do you know why they do not teach you everything?" the emissary pressed, stepping closer, his voice a hushed whisper like venom in her ear. "Because they fear you. You outshine them all, and they know it. Even your precious master… especially your precious master."
Jayan's eyes snapped up, anger flaring despite herself. "Lies."
"Are they?" he countered smoothly. "Think about it, Jayan. Why would she not share her full power with you? Why would she keep you in the shadows of her greatness? Because Vitaliara knows the truth—that with her blood, you would surpass even her. You would ascend beyond her reach, and she cannot allow that."
The words rattled in her mind like broken glass.
Master Vitaliara… fears me?
No, it couldn't be true. Vitaliara had been kind, patient. But hadn't there always been moments, brief as they were, when her master's gaze had lingered on her with something unreadable? Something… wary? Hadn't there been times when Vitaliara had withheld teachings, claiming Jayan was "not yet ready?"
Jayan gritted her teeth, her hands trembling at her sides. "What you're asking of me—"
"Is not easy," the emissary finished, tilting his head. "But nothing worthwhile ever is. You desire strength. You desire freedom. This is the price. The blood of the Guardian Beast of Life is a small sacrifice for what you could become."
Jayan turned away, her breath coming hard and fast. Her heart pounded, her mind a whirl of conflicting voices. Loyalty. Gratitude. Pride. Ambition. They all screamed at her, clawing for dominance.
She thought of Thornridge, of the empty bellies and desperate eyes of her family. She thought of the Azure Blossom Sect, its walls tall and unyielding, its leaders blind to the future. And she thought of herself, standing alone beneath the weight of her dreams—dreams that would never come true if she remained shackled.
Her voice was quiet when she spoke, but it carried the weight of a decision she could feel splintering her soul.
"What… what must I do?"
The emissary smiled, a serpentine curve of satisfaction. "You must do what is necessary, Jayan. Bring us her blood, and we will give you the world."
And in that moment, as those words sank into her bones, Jayan felt something inside her fracture. She closed her eyes, seeing Vitaliara's face—her kind eyes, her steady voice—and she tried to silence the growing whisper in her mind:
The sect is holding me back.
Master Vitaliara is holding me back.
Her hands curled into fists.
"Then I will do what is necessary."
The emissary stepped back, bowing deeply. "You will not regret this."
Yet as she now looked at the stage before her eyes….
'Ah...'
Chapter 333: Jayan (2)
The courtyard was silent, save for the ragged breaths of the broken elders and the soft hum of Lucavion's starlight blade. His words echoed in Jayan's mind, a cruel refrain that she could not escape.
"Rat Jayan…"
The name reverberated through her like the tolling of a bell, each repetition a hammer blow to her already crumbling spirit. Rat Jayan. A creature who scurried in the dark. A betrayer. A coward. The words seemed to coil around her, binding her in an unshakable truth.
Her gaze remained fixed on Lucavion, whose form stood like an unrelenting shadow against the chaos around them. His dark eyes pierced her to the core, his expression betraying no pity, no sympathy. He was the harbinger of judgment she had earned—her choices brought him here, her sins had summoned him.
And then, she saw it.
A flicker of movement—a flash of white—cutting through the smoke-choked air.
What is that?
Jayan's glassy eyes followed the shape as it leapt gracefully onto Lucavion's shoulders, its movements fluid and weightless, like drifting snow. A small, delicate figure settled there—a cat, its pristine white fur shimmering faintly, untouched by the blood or dust that stained the ground.
But it was the eyes that struck her.
Golden. Radiant and unyielding. Eyes that she knew. Eyes that had watched her grow, had guided her, had believed in her.
"Ah…" Jayan's breath hitched, her trembling hand lifting just slightly as if reaching for the vision before her. Her vision blurred with tears, her lips parting in a trembling whisper.
"Master…"
The cat tilted its head slightly, those golden eyes fixing on her with an expression that seemed to see everything—all her triumphs, her failures, her sins.
It was her.
Vitaliara.
Her master. The Guardian Beast of Life. The being she had betrayed.
A strange stillness washed over Jayan, drowning out the pain in her limbs, the blood pooling around her knees. It was as though the world had faded away, leaving only her and the soft radiance of those golden eyes.
'Why is she here?' the thought whispered in her mind. And yet, as she stared at Vitaliara—at the form of her master perched so effortlessly on Lucavion's shoulder—Jayan felt no anger. No resentment. Only clarity.
It was her.
The one she had turned her back on. The one she had traded for power that was never hers to hold.
Vitaliara's gaze held no malice, no vengeance. Only quiet understanding. And in that moment, Jayan understood something she had refused to admit.
She had done this to herself.
Her betrayal. Her ambition. Her choice to reach beyond what she deserved.
"You forfeited that right the day you betrayed her," Lucavion's voice echoed in her mind, his words now carrying the weight of a final truth.
Jayan's lips trembled. Slowly, painfully, a smile crept across her bloodstained face—fragile and broken, yet strangely serene.
"I… I am sorry," she whispered.
It was all she could say. The only words left to her.
Her strength left her as though carried away by the wind. Her knees buckled, her body sagging forward. She fell onto the blood-soaked ground, her silver-streaked hair fanning out around her like a wilted blossom.
The smile remained on her face as her vision dimmed, the golden light of Vitaliara's eyes the last thing she saw.
And as the darkness swallowed her whole, Jayan felt no fear. No bitterness. Only a strange sense of peace—one born from the clarity she had denied herself for so long.
********
Lucavion stood over Jayan's lifeless form, his starlight blade humming faintly, as though even the weapon mourned the silence left in her wake. Blood pooled around her, dark and glistening under the shattered remnants of the courtyard sky. And in that moment—amidst the ruin, the betrayal, and the ghosts of choices long past—there was nothing but stillness.
At his side, perched with delicate grace upon his shoulder, Vitaliara watched Jayan's body with those golden, unfathomable eyes. Her gaze, shimmering like molten sunlight, seemed to pierce through the empty shell Jayan had become, reaching for something beyond the mortal realm. And then she spoke.
[Why?]
Her voice was soft, the single word carrying no anger, no judgment—only a quiet, aching bewilderment. It lingered, as though it might draw an answer from the corpse itself. And yet, Lucavion felt the question was not meant for the fallen alone.
His dark eyes flickered toward Vitaliara, his expression unreadable, though beneath that surface there was something far more turbulent. Something fractured. Why?
"Indeed." Lucavion's voice emerged like a low murmur, sharp but quiet, cutting through the heavy silence. "I wonder why."
His gaze dropped back to Jayan's crumpled form, taking in the fragile lines of the woman who had, in her ambition, shattered everything she once believed in. Blood matted her silver-streaked hair, but her face… her face, though streaked with dirt and tears, was almost serene in its finality.
'Foolish,' Lucavion thought, but even as the word entered his mind, it lingered uneasily. Is it foolish to dream? To want more than what the world offers?
He crouched beside her, the hem of his cloak brushing against the crimson-stained stones. His fingers reached out, stopping just short of her still form. A peculiar pang touched his chest—one he wasn't prepared to name.
"She betrayed her master. Betrayed you." Lucavion's voice was measured, but there was a faint edge to it, a subtle rasp that betrayed the thought unspoken. 'And yet… was she truly so different from the rest of us?'
Vitaliara tilted her head, her golden eyes narrowing faintly as if sifting through Lucavion's words. [It does not answer why,] she murmured, her voice carrying a depth far older than the mortal world. [Why would she trade her heart, her loyalty, for something that was never promised to her? Did she believe it would free her?]
Lucavion's mouth quirked, though the smile never quite reached his eyes. "We are all prisoners of something," he replied softly, his gaze lingering on Jayan's curled fists, as though the bloodstained ground still held the secrets of her desperation. "Chains take many forms, Vitaliara—poverty, pride, dreams too big for the hands that carry them."
He exhaled slowly, the breath escaping him like a whisper of smoke. 'Greed…..it is indeed a dangerous emotion.'
He thought inwardly.
'Greed and pride…..'
Lucavion shook his head slowly, strands of his dark hair falling to shadow his sharp features. The quiet hum of the starlight blade at his side faded as he released his grip, its light dimming like a star retreating beyond the horizon. His expression was inscrutable—neither pitying nor cruel—merely weary, as though the weight of understanding carried its own price.
"Greed and pride…" he murmured to no one in particular, his voice carrying the echo of something final. "They drive us forward, clawing for more… until we find ourselves buried beneath their weight."
Straightening, Lucavion rose to his full height, his cloak sweeping in a quiet arc as he stood. His shadow stretched long across the blood-soaked stones, reaching for Jayan like a specter come to collect what little remained. He looked down at her one last time, something fleeting passing through his gaze—acknowledgment, perhaps. Or something softer. Understanding? No, not quite.
Vitaliara's golden eyes remained fixed on him, unblinking. Her fur shimmered faintly in the dim light, the weight of her silence heavier than words. For a being who had seen empires rise and fall, Lucavion knew she was no stranger to betrayal, ambition, or loss. And yet, there was something different about the way she regarded Jayan—something softer in the tilt of her head, the narrowing of her gaze. A quiet lament, perhaps, for a mortal soul who had dared to believe in something she could never truly hold.
[Humans,] she said at last, her voice low and resonant, [always bring something different before my eyes. No matter how many I've watched rise and fall, they remain… surprising.]
Lucavion tilted his head toward her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it carried no warmth. "Surprising… or exhausting?"
Vitaliara huffed softly, the sound halfway between amusement and resignation. [Both.]
The corner of Lucavion's lips quirked further, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He cast his gaze across the courtyard, the once-pristine walls of the Azure Blossom Sect now smeared with the blood of Jayan's shattered ambition. The faint flicker of torches cast shadows over the fallen bodies of her loyalists, warriors who had fought and died for promises they would never see fulfilled.
"I suppose," Lucavion said, his voice cutting cleanly through the silence, "now that we've dealt with the matter, it is time for the real work."
*******
"What….What happened here?"
In his entire life, he could never have expected to see this scene before his eyes.
"This….."
Neither Manco nor Shelia…..
They were utterly speechless….
With the corpses and all the other things spread around them…..
It was a scene of massacre.
Indeed, it was a bloody river.