Chapter 244: Let’s end this

Eren grabbed the megaphone, lifting it to his mouth without breaking eye contact with Vane.

He cleared his throat, leaning into the mic with smooth confidence.

"Hello, lovely degenerates of Rujgard," Eren said, his voice ringing crisp across the packed square. "Charmed to make your acquaintance. My legal name is completely irrelevant for some reasons, but I’d like to extend a heartfelt thank you for hosting my modest retreat."

"You absolute idiot," Alice hissed through clenched teeth, her amber eyes burning. "We don’t have time for your half-assed comedy routine!"

Eren pulled the megaphone away for a fraction of a second, letting out an aggrieved sigh. "I swear, women have zero appreciation for stagecraft," he muttered under his breath, before snapping right back to the expectant crowd. ℴℴ𝘮

"Anyway! Cutting straight to the point," Eren continued, gesturing toward the chained nobleman. "Baron Kiliyan is officially under our contractual protection. I already shook hands on a deal to drag his ass out of this place. So, if it’s all the same to the audience, my associate and I are simply going to untie him, stroll out through your front gate, and let you fine folks get back to your sovereign lord auditions. Sound fair?"

A dead, stunned second hung over the square.

Then, the entire plaza erupted with laughter. Seasoned mercenaries doubled over, slapping their greaves; even Vane threw his head back, laughing so hard.

Beside the chopping block, Baron Kiliyan stopped sobbing. He just stared up at Eren with a hollow, deadpan expression; his soul had left his body. ’I’m dead. He’s completely unhinged. I am actually going to die here.’

Vane stepped forward, wiping a tear of amusement as he towered over Eren.

"Oh, that is magnificent," Vane wheezed, shaking his head. "Truly, top-shelf theater, kid. But humor me for five seconds... what if we don’t feel like letting you waltz through the front door?"

Eren didn’t drop the megaphone. He offered a shrug, his blue eyes flashing with that familiar madness.

"Then I guess I’ll just have to end the history of Rujgard."

The laughter returned tenfold.

Thugs in the front row were clutching their stomachs, gasping for air as if Eren had just delivered the greatest punchline in history.

Alice brought her palm up, planting her face squarely into her hand with a groan of absolute, soul-crushing embarrassment.

Vane’s grin turned wide, wicked, and condescending as he leaned over Eren.

"Kid, I’ll give you credit for killing two lords," Vane mocked, tapping the flat of his heavy blade against his own thigh. "But I can sense your mana core is dry. You don’t have enough juice left to light a candle, and your little blonde backup looks like she checked out of the hospice ward ten minutes ago."

Vane straightened, spreading his arms to the crowd like a carnival barker about to offer the deal of a lifetime.

"You know what? Let’s make this interesting!" he bellowed into the megaphone. "First idiot to stick a blade in this mouthy little prick gets his pick of the dead lords’ estates!"

The four enforcers flanking the scaffold didn’t wait for a second invitation.

They surged forward as one with hands full of axes and cudgels, grinning at the prospect of easy prey. The crowd pressed in, a wall of jeering faces eager for the first blood of the morning.

Eren rolled his shoulders and raised both hands.

The first enforcer’s axe came down in a cleaving arc aimed at his skull. Eren stepped into it with his left forearm rising and the blade met his skin with a sound like striking an anvil, sparks exploding off a sheen of green-blue aura coating his fist.

The man’s eyes went wide.

Eren’s right palm slammed into his sternum, and something in his chest cracked; he was off his feet before the axe had stopped ringing.

The second swung a cudgel at his knees. Eren hopped it, planted a boot on the falling first man’s shoulder, and launched sideways, elbow-first, into the cudgel-wielder’s temple. Bone met bone. The cudgel clattered away; the man followed it down, dead.

The third and fourth came together, one high, one low. Eren caught the high blade between his forearm and shoulder while his shin kicked out to meet the low attacker’s wrist. He twisted, wrenched the trapped blade free with his bare hand, and used the flat of it to slap the fourth man across the jaw so hard his head snapped sideways.

He dropped both bodies in a neat pile and stood up, breathing even.

The front rows had stopped laughing.

They stared at the pile of enforcers. They’re the elite guards of Vane. He dismantled them in under six with an empty mana core and no weapon.

"He’s got nothing left," someone in the crowd muttered, unconvinced, gripping a r machete. "Core’s dry. I heard it. He can’t keep—"

The mercenaries broke.

Twenty, then fifty, then a hundred bodies surged up the scaffold stairs at once, blades and spears and morningstars a churning sea of steel. Alice took a step back, the cat hissing in her arms, her hand going for a sword.

"Give it!" Eren barked, spinning to face her.

She hurled something at him. It was a small, brass, box, the size of a fist. Eren caught it out of the air, thumb already finding the switch, and pressed.

BOOM.

The ground detonated.

The corner of the plaza erupted skyward in a geyser of dust and rubble. The charging mercenaries skidded to a halt, screaming, diving sideways, colliding with each other as the shockwave rolled over the square like a wet blanket.

Silence fell.

Then the dust cleared, and where there had been solid plaza, there was now a crater. A very deep crater.

Eren stood at the edge of the platform, the smoke drifting past his face, casually tossing the remote an inch into the air and catching it between two fingers.

"What in the hells is that?!" a gang leader shrieked from below, shielding his bleeding brow. "What kind of sorcery is that?!"

"No incantation! Is that a demon artifact?!"

Eren raised the little brass box high above his head, letting the morning sun glint off the ticking gears.

"Attention, fine citizens of Rujgard!" Eren’s voice carried over the coughing and cries, dripping with unhinged, effortless mockery. "That was just five percent of the welcoming package! I’ve tucked thirty more of these charming little toys beneath every inch of this place! One more polite twitch of my thumb, and we all turn into a very loud, very permanent urban legend!"

The crowd went utterly pale, blades lowering as cold sweat broke out across three thousand foreheads.

Eren lowered his arm, his smirk sharp enough to draw blood. He turned his eyes toward the man with the spiked hair.

"Of course," Eren said smoothly, "leveling an entire territory is dreadfully loud, terrible for property values."

He pocketed the brass trigger, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles with a rhythmic, sharp snap.

"So how about we handle this like civilized degenerates, Vane? Just you, me, and whatever sharp metal you’ve got left."