Chapter 805: Movents
Chapter 805
One mont Orion was standing tres away. The next—he was already closing in on Grey at the speed of sound.
He hadn’t even given the mage a chance to react.
Not like he needed to.
ZOOOM—!
ZAP—!
Two figures shot toward the man with lightning speed.
One was Thalos, rapidly approaching from one flank.
The second was the supposed vice leader of the Waterfall Clan—
Fenrir, who had wrapped himself in lightning to boost his velocity.
The duo reached Orion’s sides in the blink of an eye, ready to counterattack.
Before they could even make their move, Orion spun like a whirling rocket and swept his leg through the air, unleashing a flowing tide of Ki that smashed violently into them.
The force sent Fenrir crashing out of the sky—
But not Thalos.
"Long ti no see, Orion." Thalos grinned as his sword swept upward from below while he advanced toward the leader of the Waterfall Clan at blazing speed.
Orion didn’t bother to dodge.
He calmly raised his palm and clamped it firmly onto the blade, stopping it dead in its tracks.
BOOOM—!
A massive gust of wind exploded outward from the clash, rocking the surrounding area.
The ground beneath their floating forms shattered, chunks of stone tearing free and tumbling into the air.
The two remained locked in place, neither overpowering the other.
Turning his head slightly as Fenrir streaked toward him again, lightning coiling around his body, Orion raised a brow in confusion.
"What is your motive?"
Fenrir’s eyes blazed as he summoned twenty lightning spears and hurled them toward Orion, who augnted his hands with Ki and began swatting the attacks aside effortlessly.
"Have you forgotten
so soon, eh? What happened to the three Musketeers of War, Orion?!" Fenrir bellowed in fury, causing the man to pause briefly.
Kicking off the air, Orion retreated several tres away from Thalos and Fenrir, who now stood side by side.
"Perhaps this will jog your mory." Fenrir sneered as his appearance morphed, reverting back to his true form.
Seeing him clearly, Orion’s eyes lit up in recognition before a faint smile curved his lips.
"Oh. It’s you. No wonder you seed so familiar and I couldn’t quite place it."
Then he shifted his gaze toward Thalos.
"And I see you’ve taken Dawn as your new master now. How amusing. I never thought the day would co when the three of us would stand on opposing sides."
Thalos frowned.
"I only have one question for you," he said, pointing his greatsword forward.
"... What happened to Master Armin?"
At the question, Fenrir slowly turned his head toward the gargoyle, his teeth grinding audibly.
"He—He killed him. Orion fucking murdered the master. I was there that day when he and a few others slaughtered him in cold blood."
Orion lifted a brow.
"Hm? You were there? But I didn’t see... oh!" His expression shifted slightly. "He must have cast a spell that day. That would explain why I couldn’t sense you. What a tricky fellow."
Everyone else remained completely still, watching the exchange between the trio unfold.
Aside from Orion, no one had moved an inch.
Thalos, upon hearing Fenrir’s words, didn’t react imdiately.
He remained frozen for several long seconds, as though replaying the statent again and again in his mind.
"He—He killed him?"
As he repeated the words, the greatsword in his grasp began trembling violently, its aura flaring with ferocious intensity until a crushing pressure erupted outward from his body.
Eyes blazing with golden intensity.
His hand squeezed so tightly that, for a mont, it felt as though his gauntlet might crack.
Grey, on the other hand, wasn’t simply watching the exchange idly.
He was actively cultivating the mana he had exhausted.
His ki was currently untouched, but his mana core was completely depleted; hence, he needed to recover what he had lost.
His eyes were closed as he sat in a lotus position atop Noir’s back, steadily absorbing the ambient mana around him and funneling it into his core.
’They’re all strong in their own right. They can probably handle themselves until I join in. Unfortunately, I can’t create a spatial portal to call for backup until my mana reaches a certain threshold. They’ll just have to hold the leaders off until I can act.’
"And ? What should I do?" Noir asked within Grey’s mind.
’... Just stay still. Let
cultivate—and protect
from any incoming attacks.’
"Okay. This has been fun and a little sentintal," Rowen interrupted, cutting off any further verbal exchange.
His hands moved toward his body as he removed the coat of real fur he had been wearing and hurled it backward carelessly.
His ki instantly erupted outward, surrounding him and rising above his fra, causing trendous pressure to flood the entire area.
".... But I’m bored. I want to play."
"How about we play, Father?" Rivock grinned as he stepped forward confidently.
Before he could take another step, soone appeared before him as though he had always been standing there.
It was his eldest brother—Drevor.
"No. Let’s play instead, brother."
BAM—!
A powerful punch from Drevor smashed into Rivock’s face, lifting him clean off his feet and sending him flying backward like a ragdoll.
But that wasn’t all.
Drevor pursued him instantly, moving like a blur.
"Noelle! Co on, let’s take down your mo—the leader together!" Leo shouted as he shot forward at astonishing speed.
Noelle followed closely behind, cracking her whip from her waist, her eyes locked intently on her mother, who stood confidently at the forefront.
Mada, anwhile, was staring between Thalos, Fenrir, and Orion.
Deep down, he wanted to confront his father himself, and he was just about to step forward—
"As much as I hate to admit it, let’s leave him to those who can handle him. We’ll deal with the problem in front of us," Gunther interrupted his train of thought.
And that was because, at that exact mont, Rowen had set his sights on them as if they were prey.
Sera tightened her grip on her sword as she shifted into a ready stance, watching the leader of the Iron Fur Clan stride toward them confidently, as though he owned the battlefield.
anwhile, the two dozen stage five warriors remained off to the side, observing what was about to unfold.
And with that, the clash of the century was about to replace the inter-faction tournant.
The others could only stand by and watch—
Wondering how the younger generation intended to survive.
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