Chapter 925: Alternate Timeline: The Prison (4)

Kiara had expected the three strongest enemies to split apart and investigate different entrances.

Her strategy had been sound.

But she had overlooked one crucial detail.

By allowing Zion to climb onto the wall, she had placed Lux in full view of the warden.

The moment Valamir saw the glowing sword, greed took root in his heart.

A jewel shining in darkness attracts eyes as surely as blood draws sharks.

Valamir did not know Lux was a celestial weapon. He only knew it far surpassed the platinum-grade sword in his own hand. In his mind, killing Zion and claiming the weapon was both profit and revenge.

Yet once their blades met, Valamir discovered a bitter truth.

Zion was as strong as he was. Actually, even stronger.

Adding on top of that, every small wound Zion received closed beneath the healing light of Lux.

Unable to overpower him alone, Valamir had called Edrin to assist.

Two against one.

A tactic as old as war itself.

Even so, Zion still had not used Lux’s offensive skills.

Kiara had ordered him not to kill these high-level Spirit Warriors.

The weaker guards were expendable.

But five-star and six-star experts were valuable assets to any kingdom.

She watched the system message for another moment, then issued a new command.

"Zion," she said through their connection, her voice calm and decisive, "bring them to me."

The moment Zion received Kiara’s order through their mental link, he did not hesitate for even the span of a heartbeat.

He disengaged at once.

Lux flashed in a wide arc, forcing Valamir and Edrin to take half a step back, and Zion used that brief opening to turn and sprint across the prison grounds. His black robe fluttered behind him like a torn banner, and the luminous sword in his hand painted a streak of pale gold through the smoky night.

"Do not let him escape!" Valamir roared, his voice bursting from his chest like thunder rolling down a mountain valley.

Consumed by anger and greed, the prison warden rushed after him without a second thought. Edrin followed close behind, spear in hand, his expression grim, though a flicker of uncertainty had already begun to creep into his heart.

At the ruined main entrance, Kiara stood motionless amid the wreckage.

The broken gate lay twisted on the ground.

The flames from the burning forest swayed in the ocean wind, throwing long shadows across the corpses of the fallen guards.

Kiara raised one hand toward the heavens. Her other hand steadied the rocket launcher resting against her shoulder.

She did not move.

She did not speak.

She simply waited.

A few seconds later, Zion landed lightly before her.

Then, almost immediately, Valamir and Edrin appeared through the smoke.

In the shifting firelight, their faces were half-hidden, their outlines wavering like demons born from the flames.

Valamir’s eyes narrowed when he saw Kiara.

"This one as well..." he muttered inwardly, his brows knitting together. "I cannot sense any ether from him... no, from her. How can two people hide themselves so completely from my spiritual senses?"

His gaze shifted to the strange weapon resting on Kiara’s shoulder.

It was unlike any artifact he had seen.

Not a bow.

Not a cannon.

Not a spirit weapon.

Something unfamiliar.

Something dangerous.

Then his eyes fell upon Joren’s unconscious body and the corpses of the other guards scattered nearby.

He extended his senses.

Joren was alive.

The tension in his chest eased slightly.

Valamir did not charge this time.

The sight before him was too strange, too sudden, too clean.

Even a tiger pauses when it sees another predator sitting calmly in its path.

"Who are you?" Valamir asked, his voice low and wary. It was the first time anyone had talked to Kiara since the beginning of this raid

However, Kiara offered no explanation.

No threat.

No introduction.

Her raised hand remained pointed toward the dark sky.

Her lips parted beneath the mask.

"Thunderblast."

The world answered.

A deafening peal of thunder exploded overhead.

Dark clouds, drawn together by the skill, churned across the sky as if the heavens themselves had opened one eye to witness what was about to happen.

Before the thunder fully reached the ears of those below, a brilliant blue bolt descended.

It struck Valamir directly.

There was no time to dodge.

No time to scream.

No time to regret.

For one blinding instant, Valamir’s large frame became a silhouette of pure white light.

Then he was gone.

Where the prison warden had stood only a moment earlier, there remained nothing but a small heap of ash, already being scattered by the sea wind.

His platinum-grade weapon vanished.

His storage ring vanished.

Even the possessions he had treasured were reduced to nothing, as though the heavens had decided that not even his shadow deserved to remain.

Edrin stared at the drifting ash.

His fingers loosened around his spear.

His mind went blank.

*Rumble*

"Lord Valamir..." he whispered, his throat suddenly dry.

The man who had ruled this prison like a petty king, the seven-star rank Spirit Warrior whom no one here dared offend, had disappeared as easily as a candle snuffed by a gust of wind.

Edrin’s heart pounded violently against his ribs.

A cold realization swept through him.

"I am standing before a force I cannot resist."

In that moment, every thought of loyalty, reputation, and pride crumbled like clay in the rain.

What use was pride to a dead man?

What use was honor to a corpse?

A tree that bends in the storm may live to see spring. A tree that refuses to bend becomes firewood.

Edrin dropped to one knee.

He lowered his head and clasped his fist to his palm.

"Please show mercy, milady," he said, his voice trembling despite his efforts to steady it. "If your grievance is with the Kingdom of Celestra, I will sever all ties with this land and disappear forever. I ask only for my life."

Kiara looked at him in silence for a few moments. She had no plans to kill any warrior of five star and above but she knew that the prison warden, regardless of the fact that he is a 7-star must die, because only when the king in the wilderness die does the army lose their morale and they submit to a new king.

As the sea wind tugged at the edge of her robe, she spoke in an even tone.

"I came for one prisoner. I will take him and leave. Anyone who stands in my way will meet the same fate as the man who stood there a moment ago. If you wish to live, step aside and help us."

Her words were as calm as a judge pronouncing a verdict.

Relief flooded Edrin so suddenly that his knees nearly gave way beneath him.

He rose and placed a fist over his chest.

"With Lord Valamir dead and Joren unconscious, I now hold the highest authority in this prison," he said. "Your wish will be fulfilled. I only ask that no more lives be lost tonight."

In his heart, Edrin had already accepted that the masked intruder was most likely a legendary realm expert, an 8-star rank. Perhaps, even stronger.

If that were true, resistance would be no different from throwing dry leaves into a furnace and hoping they would extinguish the flames.

Even if reinforcements from the warships arrived, there was no certainty they could win.

But by cooperating, he could save his life and preserve the prison staff.

The decision, in his mind, was as obvious as choosing to drink water when one’s throat was on fire.