CHAPTER 88: CH88 BLOOD FOR BLOOD.

??? POV

To die—that was my greatest fear.

Death was inevitable; even the so-called True Immortals would experience it one day. And yet, as a child, I feared that concept more than anything.

For me, dying wasn’t just about the afterlife. No... what awaited me after death had never been an eternal paradise or purgatory but rather an eternity spent cursing what I had lost.

---

"You are the origin!"

Kahn muttered, watching in awe at the woman lying in a golden pool of blood.

Cassandra—the Lightning Empress.

Among the many mysteries of the world, she was undoubtedly one. Alongside his master, she was a figure who had lived and experienced the Age of Heroes, a time spoken of only in legends.

It was a time centuries ago, when outworlder heroes roamed the land and slew not only Demon Lords but also dragons. No human from that age should still be alive in the present day—but Cassandra had made it possible.

Behind her youthful appearance lay a woman whose soul had survived nearly ten centuries.

A normal human’s lifespan ranged from 70 to 100 years. An awakened human could live up to 200, and a Saint could live even longer. But Cassandra wasn’t a Saint or even a witch. She was a Seventh Circle Mage—equivalent to a Transcendent among Aura users—and yet she had lived to see modern times.

Many concluded she had bathed in a mysterious lake that granted eternal youth. But now, seeing her golden blood and the cracks spreading across her body, Kahn reached a conclusion none before him had.

The woman known as Cassandra was indeed human, but beneath her human shell lay something dormant—something alien. And it was something he had to get rid of, since it threatened his master’s plans.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his spear over her chest and channeled pure dark magic into its tip. There was no spell-chanting—his [Will] alone was strong enough to sustain Chantless casting.

With a firm grip, he pointed the tip beneath her heart. His master had mistaken her fatal point. It wasn’t her heart, pierced now by a dagger, nor her head, but her core.

It was her true anchor, the source of her existence, and also the origin of the runes scattered across the academy.

"Sustaining a Saint-grade spell all by herself. She’s a monster."

A rune to engulf a whole academy was doable even for him but one with specific rules that only targeted a particular race that was extremely difficult.

It was on the level of the Witches of Walpurgis, beings that rivaled the God of Magecraft, Merlin and the Magic God, Magus.

Assessing his opponent whom was no longer conscious, he sighed and he tensed his muscles to drive the spear into her mana core—

Clang!

But a pale sword, laced in colorless aura, come between his weapon and her flesh blocking the spear’s path and bringing his stab to a halt.

"Another kid?"

Annoyed, he glanced at the blonde girl responsible. An angelic beauty with eyes the color of the ocean. At first Kahn thought nothing of her, he just saw her as another kid he needed to kill but ones he looked closer did he notice an uncanny resembles between the girl and the woman whom had ones left a scar on his master’s face.

"You’re that woman’s granddaughter!" He exclaimed, surprised. Smirking, he withdrew his spear.

"Your grandmother once scarred my master."

Relaxing his stance, he rested the spear on his shoulder, smirking at the girl with platinum-blonde hair.

"Trish, right?"

"..."

"Either way, it doesn’t matter. I would’ve loved fighting your father to make this fair, but I guess you’ll do for now."

Like his master, he held grudges—especially against those who had hurt her. Trish’s grandmother had left a scar on his master’s beautiful face. Scarlet had gotten her revenge by taking the Saint’s arm, but that was Scarlet’s vengeance, not his.

"Hey kid. How about we strike a deal?"

"Not interested!" Trish snapped, pointing her pale sword at him.

"Heh. I was going to request your left hand so I could keep you alive... but I guess I’ll just kill you and everybody you care about instead!"

That last part wasn’t true—he wasn’t that petty. But killing Trish... that depended on her will to survive.

"You’ll die before then."

Her aura erupted, and in a blink she was upon Kahn with a deadly slash.

The spearman moved fluidly, his lightning-infused spear flashing forward to fend off her strike before spinning into a piercing thrust.

Trish read the attack, stepped back, and blocked. For a second their weapons locked in heated struggle, sparks flying between them—then Kahn rotated the spear’s head and stabbed toward her face.

Trish’s blade moved with godlike reflexes, intercepting and redirecting the strike. In the same instant, she released her sword with one hand, traced along his spear, and seized his wrist.

Her fingers crushed against his flesh, yanking him forward. He stumbled, and her knee shot up, smashing into his face.

His nose shattered, blood spraying as he was sent flying back.

Trish pursued, thrusting her blade forward. It pierced him cleanly as she whispered—

[Avalanche].

Her aura surged. Power wrapped around her blade before erupting in a violent shockwave. The blast tore through Kahn’s body and hurled him across the event hall, where he crashed into a wall.

The concrete shuddered, then collapsed onto him, burying him in a mountain of debris.

[Snow Storm].

Dragging her knee back, she infused more aura into her sword and slashed down. Pale energy arced from her blade, tearing through the ground and smashing into the rubble. The impact split the debris in two—

But—

"I guess I’m really not the only one out to kill!"

The man she thought defeated now stood unscathed, leaning lazily against a pillar far from the wreckage.

"You’ll have to do better than that... princess!"

Smiling madly, he unleashed his mana, drowning the entire hall in a dreadful, suffocating presence.