Chapter 59: Lightning Wrath
"Who are you?" The supervisor immediately had his guard up, ready to attack, his hand moving toward his weapon.
"No need to be that vigilant."
If Lucien were here, he would have been surprised to hear a familiar voice.
It was Seraphina.
She stood before the supervisor, calm and composed, as she showed him the card she had shown the receptionist earlier.
When the supervisor saw the card, his eyes widened. He looked at Seraphina in utter shock, his guard dropping entirely as recognition dawned on him.
His knees began to bend as he said, "Greetings..."
"No need for all those formalities," Seraphina cut him off before he could finish.
The supervisor was surprised that his knees couldn’t bend further, he couldn’t even move. This strength had outpaced him entirely. He looked at her, his expression not changing but becoming more respectful, as expected of someone with such status.
He slowly stood back up, clasping his hands like a servant.
Seraphina glanced at him and asked, "What’s your name?"
"Sylas Greenwood," he replied respectfully.
"Sylas, are you the one who created these rules for the assessment?" Seraphina asked in a low tone.
Sylas was confused. Had he made a mistake? But he replied, "No, the rules were made by the principal and the teachers."
Seraphina felt frustration rise within her. "Because of your rules, now I can’t be with my darling and protect him."
Sylas’s jaw almost dropped when he saw Seraphina behaving in such a frustrated manner, her calm composure replaced by visible irritation. Her gaze turned obsessive as she peered into the forest below, as if she could see through the crimson canopy to where Lucien walked.
"Ahem," Sylas coughed and said carefully, "If the rules were removed, then there would be no fairness at all."
He understood which rule Seraphina was referring to. But if they removed it, instead of being an assessment for the young ones, it would become a playground for the old and powerful. The strong would simply crush the weak without consequence.
Seraphina turned to him with a frosty, frustrated expression. "Who asked you?"
Sylas immediately fell silent, not daring to utter another word.
Seraphina took her gaze off him. She knew this already, this was exactly why she was frustrated and helpless. She understood the necessity of the rules, but that didn’t ease the ache in her chest.
She felt an itch, a restless longing, not being able to be with her darling.
---
Meanwhile, Lucien was walking deeper into the forest, killing any volkoid he encountered. He didn’t know that his wife, who he had thought was at home, was watching him from above.
He held his blade tightly as he found himself surrounded by a group of Crimson Stalkers, feline-like volkoids with sleek, muscular bodies covered in deep crimson fur that shifted in color like flowing blood. Their golden-yellow predatory eyes were fixed on him, and he could see warm blood still dripping from their mouths and claws.
It seemed someone had already fallen to these predators.
But Lucien didn’t immediately move. He kept scanning the pack, searching for their leader. If he killed the leader first, it would be more efficient to eliminate the pack without exposing too much of his strength.
He was aware that during such an assessment, there was no way someone from the Aethel Academy wouldn’t be supervising. He didn’t want to garner attention and become a hot potato. He knew that if he drew too much notice, it could attract his parents’ enemies, and he was still too weak to fight them. He also didn’t want to involve Seraphina.
The Crimson Stalkers were still assessing their prey, circling slowly, before they devoured their meal. Lucien continued scanning and finally found their leader.
It was the one that looked weak and small in size.
The Crimson Stalkers couldn’t wait any longer. Two of them charged at Lucien, leaping into the air with claws extended, their golden eyes burning with hunger.
Lucien stretched his hands forward. A blade armament appeared in his grip, a plain steel longsword. It wasn’t the Abyss Carver. The Abyss Carver was too conspicuous and would definitely attract attention and greedy gazes.
Looking at the charging volkoids, he moved.
His body blurred. In that single instant, he closed the distance between himself and the airborne predators. The blade sang through the air, tracing a flawless arc. Steel met flesh, and two heads separated from their bodies in a single, fluid motion. Blood sprayed in crimson arcs, painting the already red forest floor a deeper shade.
Before the eyes of the pack, they saw the heads of their fellow comrades flying through the air, their bodies still mid-leap, carried by momentum even as death claimed them. The heavy thuds of their corpses hitting the ground echoed through the clearing.
But where was the prey?
When the corpses fell, only lightning streaks remained, crackling faintly where Lucien had stood. The air itself seemed to sizzle with residual energy. There was nothing else. The prey had vanished.
No, Lucien hadn’t vanished. He was above the Crimson Stalker leader, descending like a bolt of judgment.
He had been contemplating which talent to showcase, something effective yet not flashy. His fire talent was strong, but that didn’t mean he should neglect his other abilities. That was why he had decided to use his thunder talent.
He had learned techniques and skills related to every talent he had awakened, and now was the time to put them to use.
When the two Crimson Stalkers attacked, he had used his blade to reap their lives. Then, using their falling bodies as cover in the air, he activated his lightning skill, Lightning Flash, to reposition himself in an instant.
The remnant of that movement was the crackling lightning streaks now fading behind him.
He had used the opportunity to appear instantly above the leader.
The leader, who was also searching for Lucien, suddenly felt the intense danger, but it was already too late. Its golden eyes widened, a low growl forming in its throat, but no sound escaped before Lucien struck.
Lightning Rush.
Lucien sheathed his blade as lightning sparked from his body, surging toward the surroundings like a storm given form. The air crackled with electricity, the ground beneath him seemed scorched from the sheer intensity of the discharge. With a sonic boom that seems to shatter the silence of the forest for a split second, his figure disappeared from view. All one could see was a streak of lightning tearing through the pack, a blinding flash that left afterimages burned into the eyes of any who witnessed it.
The leader’s severed head flew into the sky, its body crumpling to the ground moments later.
Seeing this, the pack immediately scattered, all beginning to run for their lives, just as Lucien wanted. They weren’t like the volkoids he had encountered in the Land of Death; those had been more ferocious, more relentless, fighting even after their leader fell. These were predators, but they were also cowards when faced with a true apex.
He appeared with his blade swinging, time to finish the feast.
A/N: Continue to support this author with golden tickets, gifts, power stones. Your support is my greatest motivation. The mission is still ongoing, let’s not forget.