It struck General Luo Shanyu, the twenty six year old rising star from the Southern Corps. The youngest general in Chinese history. His lightning hadn't even activated when his throat was opened.
Damien's sword was already in motion before his mind had caught up. He didn't shout. He didn't demand answers. He simply acted, because there was no time and no room for hesitation.
He moved like a shadow through smoke, his black mana trailing behind him in ribbons of quiet rage.
One step, then another, and he was behind General Bloodbane.
The blade slid cleanly between the vertebrae, punching through armor and flesh with surgical precision. It was a killing blow, fueled not by hatred nor vengeance, but necessity.
His grandfather's body jerked forward as the spear fell from his hand. Damien held the sword steady, eyes locking with the man he hadn't seen since exile.
And for the first time in years, there was no contempt in those eyes. No sneer. No disgust.
