GoldenLineage

Chapter 304: No Mercy

Chapter 304: No Mercy


"How?" The word escaped before Kharom could stop it as he threw his forearms up to shield the blast, feet planted and eyes fixed on the marble so he wouldn’t be lifted off and swept away.


A heartbeat earlier, Adyr had stood at the edge of defeat; now, with a single decisive shift, he had reversed everything.


The attackers who had pressed him were scattered across the marble, bodies twisted, breaths ragged, lying in their own blood.


The arena fell into a stunned hush that made the ringing in the air easier to hear.


Adyr studied the aftermath without a flicker of emotion. His wings, used defensively until now, beat once again with intent. He raised both swords, angled his body, and tipped into a controlled dive.


Kharom flinched. For an instant, arrogance and pride loosened inside his chest, and one foot slid back. Relief followed as he realized the dive was not aimed at him.


But he was shocked yet again when he saw his target.


"What?" The question formed as his gaze tracked the white blur cutting through the air.


Adyr snapped his wings and accelerated, closing on an Umbraen who was still on his knees, blood running from his mouth and nose. The plan became clear the moment steel flashed.


Adyr reached him and did not hesitate. His expression stayed flat. One sword lifted and fell in a single, clean strike. The head parted from the body and rolled once before coming to rest against the stone.


"What is the meaning of this?" The voice that carried across the arena was not Kharom’s and not the crowd’s. It was Sevrak, watching from atop his Black Dragon, brows drawn tight; the change in his face was plain to all.


Liora heard him. Worry and astonishment moved in her eyes, yet she chose silence. Her lips pressed into a hard line, and she did not look away from the arena.


Ending a beaten foe was not unusual among Practitioners. What shocked the stands was that an Astra Path practitioner, a Velari, had done it with complete composure.


The Velari were known for mercy and a peace-minded code. None of them expected an execution this merciless, delivered by a face that gave nothing back.


Adyr did not seem to care what anyone thought.


He beat his wings once, slid across the air to the next target, and beheaded him with a crisp, economical cut.


Then the next and the next. He fell into a steady rhythm: wings beat, boots kiss stone, blade lifts, blade falls, life ends.


The sequence was so clean and fast that onlookers felt time compress, each motion folding into the one after it.


Mirela watched the cold efficiency, and her gaze wavered. "Sister, what is he doing?" Her voice held both confusion and deep worry.


The answer came from Lucen as Liora remained silent, jaw tight. "He is making sure he will survive in the Legacy Domain."


He spoke as someone who understood the intent completely.


Even for an Astra follower, even for a Velari raised in mercy, there are moments when mercy costs lives.


This was one of those moments.


If he left them breathing, every person here knew how deep Umbraen vengeance ran. They would spend whatever it took to hunt Adyr and repay the debt with his life.


When hatred cannot be reasoned with, only one option remains: cut down numbers and strength until they can no longer threaten you.


"You damn Velari. You will pay for this." Kharom gathered himself and roared, rage burning through his throat.


It was not grief for his fallen kin. As a follower of the Nether Path, he was intimate with death and treated it like an old acquaintance. What enraged him was the insult: Adyr had ignored him and butchered his underlings under his nose without a shred of respect.


Unacceptability hardened into action. Kharom’s form liquefied again and surged forward like a corrosive tide, rushing to overtake Adyr.


But the disadvantage remained. By the time Kharom closed, Adyr had already finished the nearest targets and was beating his wings toward the wider melee.


His next objective lay ahead: 58 Umbraens locked in chaotic battle with 15 Aqualeth.


"Brother." Maruun saw the dark silhouette with the massive white wings arrowing toward him and called out, elation cracking through the strain.


Until now, his focus had stayed on holding the line, protecting himself and his team against the Umbraen press, but a part of his attention always tracked the fight in the far corner where Adyr battled. When it ended with Adyr overpowering a full 10-man Umbraen squad, shock hit first, then relief. An ally this reliable was someone he would welcome with open arms.


"I thought you might need a hand." Adyr’s greeting rode a brief chuckle as he charged his blade. He swept into the Umbraen ranks without mercy, a single strike cleaving through clustered bodies and scattering their focus all at once.


Holding ground with 15 against 58 had been an achievement on its own; now, with Adyr striking from behind and cutting the enemy formation clean, the Aqualeth felt the momentum finally turn in their favor for the first time since the battle began.


"This is an offer I can’t reject." New spirit in his voice, Maruun unleashed his skill. A crystal-ice spear materialized in his hand, hard and clear.


He hurled it at a distracted Umbraen, catching the target unawares and driving the spear through his neck; the body dropped lifeless to the stone.


Seeing their leader finally take a life since all this began, the other Aqualeth Practitioners shifted at once. They shed their defensive stances and pushed forward, blades and skills aimed to kill rather than merely hold.


This should be enough to buy them more time. Adyr read the changed flow in a glance, then drove another shock-powered sword strike through a knot of Umbraens, incapacitating several more.


His gaze then cut away from them, turning his back, and he found Kharom again, the man’s body racing toward him in liquid form.


"Now it’s time to be rid of you." For an instant, a darkness deeper than any Nether Path shimmered in Adyr’s eyes. Those nearest felt the temperature of the moment drop, their skin pebbling as pure instinct registered his bloodlust and sent a shiver through their bodies.