Chapter 1520: Crimson Lightning

Sean’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t believe he was meeting the same people who had framed him, but the news provided valuable information about this group. These people were likely sent from the Harland Kingdom. That conclusion wasn’t far-fetched; after all, who else would dare provoke them so openly other than King Lucas’s men?

If this was true, then it all made sense.

"You’re from Harland, right?" Sean growled, his voice low and trembling with conviction.

Clift only chuckled, tilting his head as if Sean had just asked him about the weather. He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

"Who knows? Why don’t you figure it out yourself?"

Sean’s jaw tightened. Facing Clift stirred the same sensation he felt whenever he stood before Salvo. A suffocating pressure, as though invisible hands closed around his throat. It was the terrifying certainty of being controlled, trapped in a grip he could never break, no matter how hard he fought.

"You don’t want to talk, do you?" Sean sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "Whatever, I’ll make you talk eventually."

He raised his sword and inan instant it was enveloped in a brilliant white light, then with quick moves he swung his sword, and the white light shot towards Clift.

Clift was unfazed, with a firm stance he pointed his hand forward and instantly a transparent shield blocked the light movement and scattered it like sparks falling into deep water.

Sean remained undeterred; he knew his attack wouldn’t break Clift. It didn’t matter. Gritting his teeth, he hurled himself forward with everything he had. In the next heartbeat, the battle erupted in full force once again.

At the other side, Jay and Timothy clashed with the same intensity. Steel rang, mana flared, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. Timothy fought fiercely, his strikes were sharp, his instincts honed and precised, unfortunately his opponent was one of the Archknights.

Jay moved with murderous precision: every step calculated, every counter flawless. He slipped through Timothy’s defenses like a blade through silk, experience sharpening every angle, every turn. Within moments, Timothy was forced back, then back again, breath ragged, footing unstable.

Soon after, he was cornered.

As powerful as Timothy and Sean were, they were no match for the Archknight, both in terms of strength and experience. They were the ones chosen to accompany King Lucas in facing the King’s Trial, and they were also the ones who accompanied King Luvas in facing Nazareth directly.

Facing a formidable force like the Archknights, how could Sean and Timothy stand a chance?

Meanwhile, atop the sagging roof of the dilapidated warehouse, Zhao Li Xin observed the chaos below with the ease of a man watching a street performance rather than a life-and-death battle.

He reclined against one elbow, posture relaxed, his other hand lifting a jade cup to his lips. The wine shimmered under the muted light, catching clear reflections as he swirled it lazily.

After sending Lory safely into the Mystique Realm, he had returned out of idle curiosity to see how her brother and her friends would fare without her presence. He knew how much Lory worried about their safety.

So he checked it out, but the sight that greeted him drew a faint, amused smirk to his lips.

Despite being outnumbered, Clift, Jay, and Samuel didn’t falter in the slightest. Jay’s movements were precise and controlled—powerful enough to pressure Timothy, yet never enough to truly harm him.

Clift, meanwhile, toyed with Sean, probing the edges of his strength, testing how far the younger man could be pushed before he snapped.

And Samuel... well, the vast difference between him and the other Dragxtarn couldn’t have been more obvious. Watching them side by side was almost humiliating.

Anyway, this wasn’t a battle. It was an examination, especially for Sean and Timothy.

Zhao Li Xin lifted his glass with unhurried grace and took another slow sip of wine. His eyes lowered, lids half-drawn, glimmering with a faint flicker of interest

So that’s what this is, he mused.

They weren’t in any rush to eliminate the Constellation members. No, what they wanted was to measure them. To study their abilities, to test their limits, to gather enough data to estimate the true strength of the rest of the Constellation.

How sneaky, he thought, a soft, dark chuckle slipping from his throat. But he liked it.

This was how it should be; this is the kind of people worthy of serving Lory’s family. Only with individuals like these would he ever feel assured of Lory’s safety.

Zhao Li Xin lifted the glass to his lips, savoring the quiet pause—until a sudden disturbance broke through the stillness. From somewhere below, he heard the gritty scrape of impact, followed by the harsh crack and collapse of a wall.

But the sound was swallowed almost instantly by the chaos of the battle raging out front, drowned beneath shouting voices and clashing steel.

Then came the ragged breaths of men driven by desperation—the thundering rush of boots over broken rubble, the sharp whisper of blades slicing through rope, and the frantic scuffle as Igor was dragged to his feet and hurried out of the abandoned warehouse.

At last, the rescue team had come to claim him.

"So slow," Zhao Li Xin murmured indifferently, then continued enjoying his wine.

Meanwhile, Samuel tore through the Dragxtarns with ferocious precision, each strike landing with bone-shattering force. Bodies staggered back, blood arcing through the air, screams ripping from their throats as they collapsed. T

o anyone watching, it looked less like a battle and more like a man exorcising a personal vendetta, every blow fueled by something far deeper than just trying to win the fight.

And who could blame him?

These people were the architects of all his misery, the reason his wife early dead, and the reason why his daughter never have peaceful, ordinary life, even long after the Dark Age War had ended. All of it traced back to the Luxemboroughs and their loyal hounds, the Dragxtarn.

"You traitor!" one of the Dragxtarn soldiers spat, his voice sharp with fury.

Samuel barked a short, humorless laugh. "Traitor? Me?" he scoffed, lifting his chin defiantly. "Buddy, I’m not a Dragxtarn. I stop being one for a long time."

A sharp crackle burst through Sean and Timothy’s earpieces, followed by a rushed whisper layered with static.

"Target secured. Igor is back in our custody. Retreat immediately."

The words pierced both men like a cold electric shock. A mixture of relief, frustration, and a hint of reluctance washed over them.

They had not yet avenged the humiliation they suffered, and retreating now felt too much like running away. But their mission was completed, and lingering any longer would only jeopardize everything they had worked for.

Sean tightened his grip, mana surging to his fingertips like a flood barely held back at the same time. Timothy mirrored him, eyes narrowing as he gathered his own energy.

Their opponents were still advancing, Clift with calm, predatory precision, Jay with that maddening grin, and Samuel looming behind them like a silent executioner.

Sean sucked in a breath, then..."NOW!"

In perfect synchronicity, both men unleashed their power, and a burst of brilliant light exploded outward from their palms, blinding, searing, swallowing the battlefield in a white radiance so intense it painted shadows even behind closed eyelids.

The air rippled violently as the luminance detonated, forcing Jay and the others to recoil on instinct, arms rising to shield their eyes.

The world turned into a storm of brilliance.

Jay hissed, vision flaring with fragmented afterimages. Clift clicked his tongue, momentarily stunned, while even Samuel paused, blinking hard as the flare washed over them.

And in that fleeting, precious window, Sean, Timothy, and everyone who survived escaped without so much hesitation.

Their figures vanished into the shadows beyond the ruined warehouse, slipping away just as the last shards of blinding light faded from the air.

Suddenly, a sharp, urgent crackle burst through Clift, Jay, and Samuel’s earpieces.

"There’s a missile heading toward you—repeat, a MISSILE is incoming!"

The warning had barely ended when a high-pitched buzzing sliced through the air, growing louder, closer, like a razor cutting through the sky. All three men stiffened instantly, their expressions tightening.

"Should we run?" Samuel asked, anxiety tightening his voice.

Jay’s brows furrowed as he quickly calculated the distance, the spread, the blast radius.

"No time," he muttered. The area was far too wide; they wouldn’t make it out before impact. In the distance, the roar of an aircraft engine rose sharply. It seemed Sean and the others had already taken off—escaping in the chaos.

"We borrow the King’s power," Clift said firmly.

Jay exhaled, resigned. "That’s the only way."

But before any of them could activate the spell, the missile detonated—in midair.

’BOOM.’

A shockwave rippled above them, but none of the blast touched the ground. Then another missile exploded prematurely. And another. One by one, each incoming projectile burst far above their heads, as if struck by an unseen force.

Jay and the others stared upward, stunned, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Then the next volley arrived, nearly a dozen missiles tearing through the clouds, enough firepower to turn the entire district into ash.

But before a single one could reach them, the sky tore open with a crack of crimson light.

A spear of blood-red lightning ripped across the heavens, branching outward like a web of burning veins. It struck every missile simultaneously, freezing them in the air for a split, breathless moment.

Then—

KRRRRAA-BOOOOOOM!

A massive explosion lit up the sky, swallowing the missiles in a blinding storm of fire and thunder. The warehouse beneath them trembled as if cowering before the raw force unleashed above.

Jay, Samuel, and Clift could only stare at the crimson lightning fading into the clouds, speechless, breath caught in their throats, each of them silently wondering:

What kind of monster had just intervened?