The six cloaked figures had not moved throughout the carnage. But now, as the grey apostle’s voice cut through the silence, their hands began to tremble, they were like puppets reaching for the daggers at their sides.

All that while the three children lay there, just in front of them motionless with their eyes closed, chests barely rising. They had most likely been drugged, or maybe worse.

They had no idea death was inches away.

Makun shook his head amused, The priest was dumb, or maybe he had no other choice.

Wrong move, priest. He grinned.

He was standing over the Blade Dancer’s corpse, brain matter still dripping from his boot and earlier, the Blade Dancer had been propelled by his kick to where the six cloaked were kneeling.

This meant, Makun was close enough to them, close enough to the kids.

As mortals, they would not outpace him, he could stop them before their daggers reached the kids.

The daggers rose, with no hesitation in their movement.

But as soon as they rose, Makun moved.

FLASH!

Six blades descended toward three tiny bodies, lying there unconscious.

But, None of them landed.

Makun’s hands were a blur, grabbing wrists, snapping bones, ripping daggers from trembling fingers. He moved through the six cloaked figures like a wind through leaves, each touch precise, each strike disabling.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three wrists shattered in the span of a heartbeat.

The remaining three figures froze, dropping their daggers with eyes wide open beneath their hoods as they watched their companions crumple.

Makun stood at the centre of the six figures, heaving and breathing hard, he truly had expended too much of his Ashe ever since he had started his pursuit.

But he had a satisfied grin on his face, the three kids lay behind him, unharmed.

It was done, he just had to kill the Needle, and capture the priest then it was over.

Gronk!

Makun looked behind him in a hurry after hearing this familiar sound, similar to those industrial doors difficult to move.

The damn metallic door behind him! Makun remembered.

Earlier, he had seen that door, but had neglected it, was it his plan all along? Using the kids as bait, using their sacrifice as bait to get his attention while he activated the mechanism of the door.

They were slowly opening, but Makun had decided not to let him flee from this place, he charged the last reserve of Ashe he had in his body, His route core pulsed rapidly, circulating Ashe throughout his spiritual veins, Veins bulged on his forehead, hands and legs.

Then,

BOOM!

It felt like he was flying from his position to where the priest was, this caught the priest off guard.

However he was ready for this.

“Intercept!” He shouted.

Against their will, the three initiates who had been standing there beside the priest moved and appeared in front of Makun, they could not let him get to the grey priest.

Unluckily, they were initiates facing an apprentice, and they were not even warriors, If Mark, a third-grade initiate warrior stood no chance against Makun, then these non-warrior practitioners had no way out.

BOOM! BOOM! SPLAT!

They all exploded into viscous messy liquid, blood and body parts spilling on the floor.

They had not held for even a second, however that was enough time for the door to fully open and for the grey priest to rush to it.

Makun’s eyes locked onto the fleeing figure, He needed this priest, MIO needed information from him, that was going to grant him a perfect finish to his first mission.

His body moving before his mind could catch up, legs pumping with the last dregs of Ashe he had left in his reserves, muscles screaming in protest as he pushed beyond what his body could handle.

FLASH!

He was gaining on the priest, the grey apostle’s robes fluttering as he limped toward the threshold of the metallic door, one hand gripping the frame, his face pale with terror as he glanced back and saw the demon closing the distance, orange-tinged eyes burning with murderous intent.

Just as the priest’s body crossed the threshold Makun’s hand shot forward like a viper strike, fingers closing around the priest’s trailing leg and yanking backward with all the strength he had left.

SHLICK!

The leg came off at the knee, flesh tearing, bone snapping and blood spraying across Makun’s face as the grey apostle screamed and tumbled forward into the darkness beyond the door, his severed limb still twitching in Makun’s grip.

But before Makun could pursue he saw something fly through the air from the priest’s outstretched hand, a metallic ball that arced over his head and landed in the centre of the hall with a heavy thud.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

The ball rolled across the chequerboard tiles, leaving a trail of red light in its wake, and Makun recognised it immediately.

It looked similar to the frequency distortion device Kenji had given them but this one was bigger, heavier, and pulsing with an ominous crimson glow that made his instincts scream danger.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping accelerated, faster and faster, and the crowd who had been standing frozen in horror finally broke, their trance-like state shattering as primal survival instinct took over.

Bodies pushed against bodies as they rushed toward the door, toward the corridor, toward the stairs, a stampede of blue suits and white aprons scrambling over each other in their desperation to escape whatever that device was going to do.

The six cloaked figures, who had been kneeling motionless beside the children suddenly stirred as the ritual trance released its hold on their minds, their heads turning left and right in confusion as they took in the carnage around them, the blood on the floor, the body parts of the initiates, the severed leg in Makun’s hand, the screaming crowd fleeing in every direction.

They had no idea what had happened or what was happening now, only that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Mr. Jones stumbled to his feet, his hood falling back to reveal wide terrified eyes that found the unconscious form of his son lying on the floor and for a moment he simply stared while Mrs. Jones remained on her knees, her body shaking with silent sobs, the dagger she had been holding now lying forgotten beside her.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping grew faster.

Makun left leg buckled as he dropped the severed limb, his eyes darting between the fleeing crowd, the confused cloaked figures, the unconscious children, and the crimson device that pulsed like a beating heart in the center of the chaos.

In the chaos, he had even caught a glimpse of the Needle slipping into the stampeding crowd, his gaunt frame disappearing down the corridor.

What the hell is that thing going to do?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep