"AHHHH!!!"
BOOM!!!
As a huge blast rang throughout the area, fire spreading across the street, Marcus gritted his teeth as he stared at the perpetrators.
They were donned with a black cloak, yet some of them had their smirks visible for everyone to see. The pure malice was clear.
"It's sad to see that you have killed a dear executive of ours, but it helped us uncover your true identity. As much as we mourn the loss of Executive Magnus Awaran, I must thank you for coming to us yourselves, Prince Marcus."
A man bellowed, his arms raised, with a toothy grin showcasing just how he felt. Marcus narrowed his eyes in response, opening his hand and summoning his sword in it.
"Belfer, evacuate the area. I'll deal with them."
"But your highness, what if you—"
"If not all can be saved, then make sure that at least Dolfordo would be one of the unharmed," the prince interrupted as he pointed his sword at the foes in front of him.
"Listen well, unfaithful ones. Know that I shall put an end to this pointless rebellion you have started. Underestimating me would be your gravest mistake."
He unleashed his oathweight, the sheer pressure making every single rebel flinch as they felt it beyond their expectations.
"Hahaha, please. Underestimating the prince of this nation is something only a fool would do. We simply wish to end you, and we'll resort to anything for that," the man spoke once more, unveiling his hood to reveal his scarred face, his slick-backed silver hair, and his cyan blue eyes.
"You are just as wild as you seem, rebel." Marcus sighed before unveiling his own hood, revealing his notable features, with his blonde hair fluttering open and his emerald-green eyes holding a glint that seemed unreadable.
"Why, thank you! Though please, call me Vor. It's the name that our grandmaster personally gave me."
Grandmaster?
Suddenly, Marcus turned and blocked an attack from behind, his sword clashing with another. Using his innate strength, he overpowered the attacker and flung his sword away, crashing it to the ground, before slashing at his face, killing him instantly.
As he dodged another attack made of pure Vyr, the prince lunged at the swarm of rebels, lunging his sword that was coated with his oathweight.
There were about 30 of them, and he struck whosoever stood on his path. Resistance was as weak as that of butter when cut by a knife. He then rushed to the mages, who were constantly throwing different magic attacks.
They seem to have mastery over 4 main elements. He blitzed towards them and proceeded to lunge his sword at their necks in one swift motion.
"Impressive speed," Vor remarked as the mages' heads fell simultaneously. "I must acknowledge your strength, Prince Marcus."
Suddenly, he disappeared, appearing right in front of the prince, their distance consisting of a few inches. "Though I must ask. How long do you think you can continue fighting us all at once?"
Marcus grunted, blocking Vor's sword whilst simultaneously punching whoever came from behind. "I was trained for situations like these. Don't think mere ungrateful brats like you can overpower me."
"Oh, I'm afraid you are slightly mistaken here. You see, I am far different than all the others you see here. Unlike them, I was personally recruited here by the grandmaster themselves, who granted me a name as soon as I began my service."
Their swords clashed endlessly as Vor's grin widened. "There is no other servant of the grandmaster in existence who has ever been named by the grandmaster. I am truly the one apart from the rest of the world. So don't compare me with everyone else!"
Coating his black blade with Vyr, he increased his barrage of attacks, with Marcus doing the same as his sword shone a golden light. Their attacks created shockwaves that seemed to deter the other rebels, making them shield themselves with their elbows.
"Hahahahahahahah! Witness the power of someone named after Vyr himself! Someone chosen to carry this cause by the grandmaster themselves. You are no match for me!"
Stepping back, he unleashed a ball of dark energy, which Marcus deflected using his sword before releasing a beam of light heading towards Vor, who responded by dodging the attack, letting it hit and disintegrate another rebel.
Marcus smirked. "You deem yourself as the chosen one, yet you couldn't even protect your allies from me. How pathetic."
"Shut up! [Dark Flames]." A torrent of flames coated Vor's sword, and another torrent of flames manifested in his free hand.
These flames radiated darkness, having been infused with both the Element of Darkness and the Element of Fire.
According to what Cronos told me, the assailant who tried to kill Sofamy also used dark magic... Does that mean she is among the rebels?
Vor lunged at Marcus, and the two clashed. Ripples of darkness and light emerged each time their swords opposed each other, destroying everything around them.
Their oathweight was out in the open. The rest of the rebels — those who tried to attack the prince from behind — distanced themselves as more and more of their allies died just by being near them.
The clash continued. Each strike seemed to affect the space around them. Vor's cyan eyes glowed with an uncanny darkness, while Marcus's emerald-green eyes radiated a light of their own.
"You're impressive for lasting this long, but it's time to end this," Vor remarked, the flames on his sword morphing into total darkness.
"Witness your doom. [Dark Devourer]!" Tentacles of darkness rose from his sword and his free hand, lunging at Marcus, who merely grunted in response.
"Don't self-project. [Holy Burst]!" A surge of light emanated from Marcus's sword, the golden tubes of magiprites glowing to illuminate the entire battlefield.
As both swords clashed, everyone was blinded by the light that merged with darkness. The rest of the rebels could not do anything but be caught in the crossfire.
As the light dimmed and the dust settled, both Marcus and Vor seemed to be alive. However, that didn't mean that they were completely unscathed.
Their clothes were tattered, revealing the skin and chiseled physique underneath. Scars and wounds covered their bodies, their breath coming as heavy pants. Their forms quivered with fatigue, their eyes narrowed and glaring at the other.
"I didn't... expect this..."
"You should have... did you seriously think I would be defeated by that spectacle you call an attack?" Marcus grunted, a faint smirk on his face.
He limped towards Vor, who was now on his knees due to the fatigue and pain rushing through his body. His eyes seemed dull and downcast, yet for some reason, Marcus couldn't see an ounce of hopelessness.
"You... what are you planning?"
"Hmm?"
"That look... that gaze... that nod your head is solemnly performing... You have a backup, don't you?"
Vor chuckled, a hoarse sound that resembled choking. "How presumptuous of you. I haven't planned anything that grand. Just the destruction of this kingdom."
Marcus gripped his sword tighter, leaning slightly toward it as he kept his figure from collapsing. He still had no idea why this rebellion was even happening.
"Other than your ungrateful nature... what reason is there for you to seek Aethelgard's destruction?"
"Our reasoning is simple. We seek to create a republic free from the corruption that this kingdom is entangled in. Once that happens, no more will being like us suffer from injustice."
"Injustice?" Marcus scoffed, a scowl on his face. "You speak of injustice as if Aethelgard is capable of such a thing."
"Don't act so oblivious. I know you're aware of it too. The way that child was abused around the people of this nation, and no one batted an eye at him. Executive Magnus could do as he pleased, even when this kingdom isn't ruled by the grandmaster just yet."
"This grandmaster..." Marcus frowned as he felt his [Regeneration] finally acting up. "Who is he? What is his main goal?"
"The grandmaster's goals, ideals, and even their gender; they are not for us to question. All they want is to free the land of Aethelgard from the evil it's trapped in. Evil like you, who plague Varkana with your desires."
"You call me evil, yet you are the one creating discourse. Most of the destruction here is because of your actions."
"That may be so, but you're also a contributor to this. That holy attack helped in destroying this entire street, no?"
"All because you thought it was wise to threaten and attack me," the prince retorted, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips.
"No matter..." Vor panted, holding his head as a headache seeped through. "Some evil is meant to be committed to destroy the greater evil. Don't you agree?"
"And you think Aethelgard is a greater evil than you?"
"Of course. Why else do you think we oppose you?"
"If Aethelgard is the greater evil, then why is it that the people were living happily before you arrived? It seems to me that you are the ones causing real distress."
"These people," the rebel sneered, spitting at the ground as a scowl formed on his face, "they are merely sheep swayed by the hyenas. Their hearts are just as corrupt as yours."
He stood up, grunting as his legs screamed in protest. "However, unlike you and all other nobles, these people, the common folk, can be saved. They don't have to suffer. You, meanwhile, deserve to die for the crimes that you have committed."
"All I sense is an unfit bias in the situation. You just want power, don't you? Or is it that grandmaster of yours that does?"
"DON'T SPEAK ILL OF THE GRANDMASTER!! Not with your filthy mouth!" Marcus jolted as Vor screamed at the top of his lungs, tears escaping his eyes.
"When I was abused and tortured by the nobles of Aethelgard, no one was there to help me. No one was there to care for me. I had no name. No identity. It was only when the grandmaster found out that they decided to grace me with a name."
He grabbed his sword and pointed it at him. "The grandmaster is far holier than whatever filth you and your family are made of."
"Holier you say, yet you certainly aren't," Marcus snarled, his eyes narrowed as he raised his sword, ready to strike him down.
"Stop!" Alarmed, both turned to another rebel, his smirk visible from underneath the hood.
Wait! That's—
"If you want this child to live, surrender now."
There stood the rebel, holding Dolfordo by the neck, his sword near the child's throat. Ten more soon followed, carrying Belfer's battered and bruised body with them.
"You..."
"Hahahahaha!" Vor's laughter rang throughout the street. "It seems that the tables have turned. I guess you should've been more cautious."
"Tch, damn tricksters."
Marcus sighed, dropping his sword on the ground as his eyes were downcast. He wished to annihilate them all at once, but due to his current condition, that was impossible. His [Regeneration] still needed to recover him completely.
However, just as the sword landed on the ground, all the heads of the rebels — excluding Vor — fell to the ground, severed from their bodies.
"H-huh?! What the—" Before he could finish, he felt someone standing beside him.
The man wore a pristine outfit that mixed black and white in an interesting fashion. It was something he had never seen before. His black hair fluttered in the air, and his ruby-red eyes held a glint of amusement that puzzled him.
"Well, that was easy," the man blurted, a smirk etched on his lips.
"You... who are you?"
"Revan...?" Vor turned to Marcus, who seemed to have recognised the man.
"Oh? You seem fine, Prince Marcus. Perhaps you're better than I initially thought." Saying that, Revan brought his hand next to Vor's face.
"It's time you retired to nothingness."
With that, he snapped his fingers. The very next second, Vor's head exploded, his body falling limp to the ground.