Chapter 240 238 (Part 2)

Flames climbed into the night sky like grasping hands.

Within the shattered base, alarms screamed without rhythm, their shrill echoes swallowed by explosions and collapsing structures. Smoke rolled across the ground in choking waves, illuminated by flickering firelight and the occasional muzzle flash.

And towering above it all—

A Titan.

For the Marleyan soldiers trapped inside the base, the sight was not merely shocking.

It was traumatic.

For decades, Marley had lived in relative comfort. The Titans that once haunted their history had been turned into weapons, tools to be unleashed upon others. The terror had been exported. Contained. Controlled.

But tonight—

That illusion was gone.

Watching the Titan rampage through the armory sector, Marleyan soldiers felt something long forgotten claw its way back into their hearts.

Fear.

Raw, instinctive fear.

"Why are there Titans here?!"

That single question echoed again and again through the chaos.

It was shouted into radios.

Cursed in panic.

Whispered in disbelief.

No one had an answer.

And Lock had no intention of giving one.

From the moment the explosives detonated and Ymir's Titan power was deliberately exposed, Lock had already begun withdrawing. This operation was never meant to become a prolonged engagement.

He moved swiftly through the firelit corridors, two reinforced wooden crates secured across his shoulders. Inside were pistols, ammunition, and portable equipment—light enough to carry, valuable enough to matter.

Behind him, structures collapsed.

Ammunition cooked off violently.

The armory burned like a beacon.

Marleyan soldiers attempted to regroup, but panic had already taken hold. Orders overlapped. Command structures fractured. Some fired wildly into the smoke, others fled without direction.

Lock encountered several patrols during his escape.

None lasted long.

By the time he cleared the outer perimeter, the night air felt almost quiet by comparison.

Beyond the wall, Ymir was already waiting.

Moments earlier, she had ended her Titan form deliberately, timing her transformation precisely to maximize destruction and confusion without lingering long enough to be surrounded.

Steam still rose faintly from her skin as she stepped forward, her breathing steady.

Neither of them looked back.

This was never about victory in a single battle.

This was a message.

A reminder.

To Marley—

Your long, peaceful sleep is over.

For a long time to come, anxiety would replace complacency. Fear would replace arrogance.

Ignoring the chaos consuming the base behind them, Lock and Ymir followed the prearranged route, slipping into the darkness beyond the outer roads. They moved fast, silently, and disciplined.

Before long, they reached the rendezvous point.

Hidden among broken terrain and overgrown brush, Kenny Ackerman and the organization members were already waiting.

Kenny straightened when he saw them emerge.

"As expected of you, Lock," he said with a crooked grin. "You really did pull it off that easily."

Lock gave a brief wave, his expression unchanged, as if the inferno in the distance had nothing to do with him.

He dropped the two crates to the ground with a dull thud, nudged them forward with his foot, and pointed at the contents.

"This should be enough, right?"

Kenny glanced inside, eyes narrowing slightly before relaxing.

"Plenty," he replied. "We're not launching a full uprising. This is just a preliminary operation."

He smirked.

"Disposable tools."

Behind him, several organization members stared at the crates with unconcealed astonishment.

They had spent years scraping together weapons piece by piece—through theft, bribery, or black-market deals. Never had they acquired so much equipment at once.

And it had been taken from a Marleyan base.

With almost insulting ease.

Their gazes drifted toward Lock.

And then—

Toward Ymir.

Their expressions shifted subtly.

They knew now.

What they had only suspected before had become an undeniable truth.

Ymir was a Titan shifter.

The inheritor of the Jaw Titan.

A mixture of emotions flickered through their eyes—reverence, unease, fear.

For Eldians raised under Marley's indoctrination, Titan power was a paradox.

They were taught to fear it.

To despise it.

To believe it was the curse of devils.

Many Eldians in Marley internalized that hatred, even rejecting the very power that defined their blood.

That kind of education left scars deeper than chains.

Ymir noticed their looks.

She didn't react.

Arms crossed over her chest, she stood calmly beside Lock, her gaze fixed only on him, completely indifferent to the thoughts of others.

Seeing this, Lock abandoned the idea of saying anything reassuring.

Ymir didn't need comfort.

Her resolve had never depended on the approval of others.

Lock turned to Kenny.

"Based on timing," he asked calmly, "the reinforcement units should be close."

"They are," Kenny replied. "Any minute now."

He gestured subtly.

At once, the organization members moved.

Each stepped forward, collecting a firearm and ammunition. Movements were quiet, efficient. Fear was still there—but it was buried beneath determination.

They took positions along the roadside, concealed by brush and terrain.

Kenny himself didn't bother with the crates.

He drew two pistols from his coat—where he'd gotten them, no one knew—and spun them idly in his hands.

Lock and Ymir each carried a firearm as well.

Then—

They waited.

No one spoke.

This ambush was deliberate.

Destroying the armory alone was not enough to truly shake Marley. Even with a Titan transformation involved, Marley could still frame it as an isolated incident.

One Titan.

Two infiltrators.

Manageable.

But if a well-armed Eldian force wiped out Marleyan reinforcements?

That was different.

That was escalation.

Not long after, footsteps and low voices drifted through the darkness.

A Marleyan support unit—nearly fifty soldiers—advanced along the road, moving at speed but without full formation. Their urgency was evident, but caution was lacking.

They had not yet realized they were walking into a trap.

Kenny stood first.

His pistols barked.

Each shot was precise, lethal.

In seconds, several Marleyan soldiers dropped without understanding what had hit them.

Even in near darkness, Kenny's accuracy was terrifying—an unmistakable display of Ackerman instinct and experience.

The organization members stared in awe.

Then Lock fired.

And their awe deepened.

His movements were clean, efficient, utterly calm. Each shot counted. No wasted motion. No hesitation.

He was not inferior to Kenny.

If anything—

He was colder.

More controlled.

The realization spread quickly.

These two weren't merely allies of Kenny.

They weren't riding his reputation.

They were monsters in their own right.

Ymir fired only when necessary, covering angles and preventing flanking maneuvers.

The Marleyan soldiers reacted too late.

By the time they attempted to form a defensive line, nearly half their number was already dead or incapacitated.

The fight became one-sided.

Gunfire echoed briefly—

Then faded.

At the cost of three casualties and two injuries among the organization, the Marleyan support unit was annihilated.

Silence returned.

Lock moved through the fallen soldiers without expression, confirming deaths and collecting usable weapons.

No mercy.

No hesitation.

This was war.

When it was finished, Kenny straightened and gave a short nod.

"Move," he said.

There was no time to linger.

More reinforcements would come.

They seized what equipment they could, then vanished into the night, heading toward the next prearranged point.

The killing did not stop there.

Throughout the night, similar engagements unfolded.

By dawn—

More than fifty members of the organization had been lost.

Thirty-two confirmed dead.

The cost was high.

But the results were undeniable.

Hundreds of Marleyan soldiers eliminated.

Multiple supply routes dare isrupted.

An armory was destroyed.

A military base thrown into chaos.

And most importantly—

A name had begun to spread.

Whispers moved through the underworld of Marley.

Through hidden cells.

Through suppressed resistance networks.

A new force was active.

Bold.

Organized.

Unafraid.

It was inevitable now.

The Marleyan government would launch a thorough investigation.

Security would tighten.

But so would cracks appear.

And from those cracks, other reactionary groups—long dormant, long isolated—would begin to reach out.

The organization would grow.

The fire had been lit.

And it would not be extinguished easily.

Far from the burning base, Lock paused briefly and glanced back toward the faint glow on the horizon.

His expression remained calm.

This was only the beginning.

Marley had finally been reminded—

Titans were not tools.

And Eldians were not powerless.

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