Chapter 5: Smile of the Masked Devil
"Those ancient bones of the boy… they are unlike anything seen in centuries," Thomas declared in astonishment, his voice piercing through the heavy, frigid air. As hehobered high above the Void Mansion, he concealed his silhouette beneath a red-faced devil mask. The mask absorbed the surrounding light, enveloping him in an unsettling, spectral glow. Beneath the mask, his cold, calculating eyes flickered with a suppressed emotion—a primal urge that clawed at his core.
His mind swirled as he recalled the first sensation the bones had stirred within him—a sharp, insatiable greed. A deep, dark impulse surged within him, compelling him to claim them for himself. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought—What if the power of those bones flowed through me? Yet, the thought quickly evaporated. Focus, old man, he chastised himself internally. The bones are far too precious. Too perilous. With a resigned shake of his head, Thomas redirected his gaze to the Void Mansion below, refocusing on the matter at hand. There would be time for ambition later.
---
Deep within the mansion, Gerald lay beside Dora, their laughter resonating throughout the chamber. The soft light streaming from the grand windows enveloped them in a warm, celestial glow, casting elongated shadows across the intricately carved walls. The interplay of light and dark echoed the delicate balance of their lives—a family united by love, yet constantly threatened by forces beyond their control.
"Darling, you must see my son Damon; his movements unmistakably reflect my lineage," Gerald expressed, a proud smile softening his sharp features. His words brimmed with unyielding confidence, yet a tender undertone lingered that only Dora could truly appreciate.
Dora, ever sharp-witted, raised an eyebrow, a playful glimmer in her eye. "He may inherit your genes, but he possesses my charm and intellect," she pointed out, a teasing smile curving her lips as she observed their son playing nearby. Her voice, though playful, hinted at a deeper truth—Damon represented their legacy, their future.
However, their moment of tranquility shattered abruptly. A loud, booming laughter reverberated through the mansion, shaking the very foundations. It was not the laughter of a mere man—it resonated like the laughter of a force of nature, unavoidable and inescapable.
"Hahahaha!" The sound rolled from the sky itself, its sheer power rattling the windows as though it originated from a realm far beyond mortal comprehension.
The members of the Void Clan scattered in panic, their hearts gripped by dread. Whispers filled the air, their voices thick with fear. An attack? Are we under siege by rival nations, as we had feared?
The guards and knights sprang into action, their movements swift and practiced as they secured the mansion's perimeter. Gerald's keen senses immediately recognized the source of the disturbance. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching as he sensed the familiar aura swirling in the air. This was no ordinary attack; he had anticipated this day for years.
Dora's hand found his, her fingers gripping tightly with worry. "Please be careful," she urged, her voice soft yet tinged with concern.
Gerald squeezed her hand gently, his eyes steady with resolve. "Do not worry; this time is different," he reassured her, though his voice betrayed a subtle undertone—something deeper, unspoken. In an instant, he activated his Void Steps, and with an explosive surge of speed, he vanished from the room, leaving only the faintest ripple in the air.
---
The Void Steps enabled Gerald to move faster than the eye could perceive. In moments, he stood before the gates of the Void Mansion. The soldiers and knights had already assembled, their faces taut with apprehension. As they saw him approach, they straightened, their fear giving way to a mixture of relief and reverence.
"Stand down," Gerald commanded, his voice low yet imbued with unshakable authority. His mere presence silenced the rising panic. "There is no cause for alarm."
One of the generals, his voice trembling with uncertainty, looked up at the figure in the sky. "My lord, do you not see the man above us? We cannot even discern his realm. Even one as strong as I, at the Void Core realm, cannot fathom his cultivation." His words dripped with awe and trepidation. His eyes remained locked on the figure above—a man who transcended the ordinary realm of cultivators.
Gerald's gaze followed the general's pointing finger, locking onto the figure hovering in the sky. The recognition struck him like a thunderclap—Thomas. Without hesitation, he gestured for a spear, which a soldier swiftly delivered into his hands.
"Everyone, return to your posts," Gerald commanded, his tone firm now, carrying an edge of authority that brooked no argument. The soldiers, sensing his unspoken command, dispersed at once, eager to avoid incurring their king's wrath. Without another word, Gerald activated Void Steps again, his feet leaving the ground as he ascended into the air. The soldiers below marveled at his effortless movement, as if he were walking on air itself.
---
As Gerald ascended, the soldiers and generals below gazed in disbelief. "All hail our lord, the mighty King of Martlock, for breaking into the Nascent Divinity!" one of the generals proclaimed, his voice booming with reverence as he bowed deeply. The others followed suit, their heads dipping in respect for their king.
Gerald's chest swelled with pride, but it was short-lived. Thomas, his gaze gleaming with unsettling mockery beneath the red mask, grinned. The storm had arrived.
"This brat dares to act this way in front of me," Thomas muttered, his voice laced with disdain. His aura crackled with fury, the air around him trembling as his body glowed with power. His energy radiated outward, a force of nature that could not be ignored.
Their gazes met midair. The tension thickened, as palpable as the storm clouds overhead. Gerald, now regal and commanding, spoke first, his voice steady. Yet before he could finish, Thomas interrupted with a venomous sneer.
"You dare conceal such significant news from me, and now you behave foolishly before me?" His voice lashed out like a whip, each syllable a condemnation centuries in the making.
The words stung. Gerald's eyes darkened, his body taut with rage. Enough games, he thought. With a roar, he unleashed his full power, Void energy radiating from every inch of his being. "You see, old man, I am no longer the same," he declared, arms outstretched, unleashing a wave of force that shook the sky itself. The air shimmered with power as his energy, now that of a mid-Nascent realm cultivator, became evident.
---
"Hah, you are merely a boy," Thomas scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. In the blink of an eye, he surged forward with astonishing speed, his movements a blur. But Gerald, his eyes ablaze with the fury of battle, refused to yield. He gathered Void energy into his palms, which glowed with a fierce purple light activating "void palm".
Each strike strike that Thomas avoided resembled a comet streaking across the sky—fiery as a dying star, carrying the force of a hundred battles. Yet Thomas moved with the ease of a master, his Stellar Step leaving afterimages as he danced around Gerald's strikes like an ageless specter.
The sky trembled as they clashed, their movements faster than the eye could track. The ground below cracked beneath their power. In that instant, Thomas activated Void Flow, his palms mirroring Gerald's. Thomas embodied war; he could read Gerald's moves but struggled to comprehend the source of such strength. In an instant, Thomas redirected every one of Gerald's attacks, seamlessly grabbing Gerald's hand, flinging him deep into the ground. As Thomas ascended deep into the skies, he split into five stellar bodies, each descending with the force of a miniature star.
"Void Breaker Descent!" Thomas roared, his forms crashing toward the earth with devastating force. Gerald barely had time to react, but with the aid of his Dragon Scale, he burst from the ground, the impact of the crash shaking the earth.
---
As Gerald rose, he discovered Thomas waiting, posture unwavering, poised for the next strike. Gerald's heart raced. "This damned monster!" His pulse quickened as he summoned the Void energy within. "I can't let him win. I won't lose."
With a battle cry, Gerald unleashed Void Wail from his spear, sending a sonic shockwave through the air. The force of the blast forced them both to clutch their ears in agony, but it provided Gerald the moment he needed to gather his strength.
"Flood Thrust!" Gerald shouted, hurling his spear as water elemental energy coalesced around it, propelling the spear with frightening force. But Thomas, cool and unfazed, stood firm, gathering strength in his arm as he slashed his sword down with conviction.
With a single slash, he cleaved the spear in half, sending the torrent of water cascading in two different directions, but the battle was far from over. Driven by a desperate need to prove himself as one of the mighty men of Avalonia .
---
In the heat of their combat, Thomas's mocking grin faltered for an instant. Something about Gerald's resolve hinted at a larger destiny at play. First, the primordial bones of the child, and now this lunatic before me… "Hahaha, This is just the beginning of my blessing," Thomas thought, his mind already calculating his next move.
For Gerald, the battle represented a test of everything he had ever stood for. With each strike, his soul burned hotter—hungry for battle.
He planted his feet firmly in the fractured earth, eyes ablaze with unyielding purpose, and raised his voice like a storm breaking the heavens.
"I, Gerald, have stood on the front line of war and witnessed warriors filled with carnage—
I shall not falter."