Chapter 162 - 161 : What have you done

The Imperius family estate lay in ruins.

What had once been a grand compound of pavilions, training grounds, and manicured courtyards was now nothing but shattered stone and scorched earth. Walls that had stood for decades were reduced to jagged stumps. Towers were gone, replaced by yawning craters gouged deep into the land.

It did not matter to the Imperius records.

This was not the main house—not the central seat of power where the core family resided. The Imperius clan owned hundreds of such estates scattered across the kingdom.

The destruction itself was not the problem.

The person who caused it was.

Several massive craters sat where buildings had once stood. Their edges were cracked and glassed black, as if the earth had been flash-burned. Inside the craters, and all around them, lay bodies.

Hundreds of them.

Dead men and women in Imperius uniforms were strewn about like broken dolls, limbs twisted at impossible angles. Some were missing arms or legs; others had their torsos split open or their heads crushed. Weapons lay discarded beside them—swords snapped in half, spears bent, rifles smashed to pieces.

Blood soaked the ground, turning the dirt into dark mud.

In some places, the bodies were piled on top of one another, mounds of failed resistance. Crows and vultures had already begun to descend, pecking at exposed flesh and hopping from corpse to corpse with uncaring eyes.

Amid the carnage, a lone woman stood.

Her breathing was ragged, each inhale scraping her lungs and each exhale tasting of iron.

Her beautiful pink hair was matted and streaked with blood, plastered to her face and neck. In that moment, she looked less like a gentle instructor and more like the incarnation of a war goddess, drenched in the proof of her battle.

Her grey eyes were cold enough to cut through steel.

One of her arms was gone from the elbow down—only a bloodied stump wrapped in torn cloth remained of her left hand. With her right hand, she clutched the collar of another woman and dragged her mercilessly across the broken ground.

The woman she held was barely recognizable.

Her entire body was marred with bruises and cuts, her clothes torn and soaked in crimson. One of her eyes was missing, the socket a ruined, bleeding hollow. She trembled weakly in Yuna’s grip, more dead than alive.

Yuna released her.

The woman’s body hit the ground with a dull thud.

"You... monstrous bitch," the woman spat, glaring up at her with her remaining eye.

She looked around at the ruin of the estate—at the cratered earth and the sea of corpses surrounding them.

"A-rankers..." she whispered. "Dozens of them..."

Her voice shook.

"Fifty S-rankers... and ten SS-rankers..."

The words trailed off, as if speaking them made them harder to believe.

"She killed them all..." the woman muttered, horror creeping into her tone.

Yuna heard her.

A battle-crazed smile tugged at Yuna’s lips.

Her chest rose and fell in harsh, uneven breaths. She had fought with everything she had, emptied every trick and every reserve of strength. Her muscles screamed. Her missing arm burned. But even with her body pushed to its limit, even with her strength on the verge of running out, the fire in her eyes had not dimmed.

If anything, it burned brighter.

She lifted her gaze to the sky.

Up above, two figures floated in the air, looking down at the battlefield—detached judges staring at an arena of slaughter.

"Cowardly sons of bitches," Yuna muttered.

Then, in a loud, hoarse voice, she shouted, "You motherfuckers! Your dogs are dead already! Come down and face me now, like the cowards you are!"

Her voice echoed across the ruined estate.

"I can’t believe someone like Arthur is related to bastards like you!"

High above, Agnus and Lucas watched her from their vantage point.

Lucas’s jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth creaked. He tore his eyes away from Yuna long enough to snap at his grandfather.

"Grandpa, why have you left that bitch alive?" Lucas demanded. "For someone like you, she’s short work."

Agnus did not immediately respond. His gaze remained fixed on Yuna, studying her, weighing her.

"Learn to control your anger, Lucas," Agnus said at last. "That woman is more useful to us than the useless dogs she just killed."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"As for why I haven’t joined the fight myself... that is harder for you to understand," Agnus continued. "The moment I get involved, the woman who trained her—her master—can get involved too."

Lucas frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Someone powerful," Agnus said. "Someone I am still not sure is dead or alive."

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"And one wrong move from me could spell the doom of all the hard work I’ve put into our family."

Lucas clicked his tongue.

"If you’re not going to do anything, then I will."

Without waiting for permission, Lucas shot forward like a golden meteor, his aura flaring as he descended.

Agnus shook his head faintly. "He still has a lot to learn," he murmured.

With a thunderous impact, Lucas landed in front of Yuna, cracks spiderwebbing out from beneath his feet.

Dust rolled away from them.

Yuna smiled through split lips and blood.

"Hiding from someone as injured as me..." she said slowly. "I guess the Imperius name is nothing after all. A family of spineless dogs."

Lucas did not answer her insult.

Instead, a translucent screen appeared before his eyes—visible only to him.

[ Activating EX-Rank Skill: Order Break ]

The world shifted.

Yuna felt it instantly.

The mana in the air, which had been swirling like a storm around the battlefield, vanished. Not dissipated. Not suppressed.

Denied.

Even Agnus raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, impressed despite himself.

Yuna reached for her power out of habit—and felt nothing.

No mana responded.

It was as if the very concept of mana had been erased from this patch of reality.

Her stomach sank.

Lucas smirked.

"What’s wrong?" he asked. "Where’s that bitching mouth of yours?"

He stepped toward her.

"Now you’re just a normal human," Lucas said. "No powers. No skills. No talent to use."

A superhuman versus a human.

In the next second, he moved.

He drove his fist into her midsection with a brutal punch. Yuna barely had time to bring her remaining arm up to guard. It didn’t matter. The impact blasted through her defense as if it weren’t there.

Her body lifted off the ground, the air forced from her lungs in a silent gasp as she coughed blood mid-flight.

Before she could hit the ground, Lucas stepped in again.

His kick slammed into her side in mid-air.

Several of her bones snapped with sickening cracks. Pain exploded through her ribs and spine as her body was sent flying, crashing into the side of a half-collapsed wall before rolling down into a crater.

More blood spilled from her lips.

The only reason she was still alive was her unique body constitution—a physique that grew tougher the more she fought, one that stubbornly refused to break completely. That, and the tiny reserve of qi she had been saving deep inside, untouched even while emptying all her mana.

At the bottom of the crater, Yuna pushed herself up.

Bit by bit.

Her legs shook. Her vision blurred. But she stood.

Lucas clicked his tongue, looking genuinely annoyed.

"Now I know why my sister doesn’t like you," he said. "You’re one persistent bitch."

Yuna’s breathing was ragged, every inhale stabbing her chest.

’Is that it...?’ she wondered.

She had fought for hours, cutting down an army of awakened warriors who could have wiped out a small nation. Her limbs felt like they were filled with lead. Her body had lost too much blood. Her consciousness flickered at the edges.

Arthur’s face flashed through her mind.

’That guy... what is he doing right now?’ she thought.

Then her mother’s face followed, soft and distant.

’Looks like that’s it, huh,’ Yuna thought. ’I still have so many things to teach him.’

She started laughing, loud and wild, as if mocking fate itself.

Lucas’s expression twisted.

He walked over and kicked her broken body again, sending her skidding along the crater floor.

"Stop laughing, you bitch," Lucas snarled. "I’m not done torturing you yet. I’ll show that bastard what happens when he steals from me."

A golden dagger materialized in his hand, gleaming with condensed power.

He raised it.

Just as he was about to drive the weapon down into Yuna’s chest, a hand closed firmly around his wrist.

The dagger stopped inches from her skin.

Lucas whirled around, fury painting his face.

"Which son of a bitc—"

He stopped.

Because the one holding his wrist was Jessica Evan Imperius.

His own sister.

Her eyes were cold, her grip iron.

Jessica’s hand whipped across his face.

The slap rang out sharply above the ruined estate.

"That’s enough," Jessica said.

"Do you realize what Arthur has done because of you people?"