Chapter 333: End of the Battle

Kyrian raised a finger toward the young man.

“If you are prepared to kill.” He said, his voice low and calm.

“You should also be prepared to die.”

Lightning began to gather at the tip of his finger again. Violet light filled the hillside, illuminating the young man’s pale, sweaty face.

The young man’s face twisted.

It was no longer fear. It was something beyond fear, a deep, primal panic that distorted his features into a mask of terror. He knew he would not be able to block that attack. His barrier was broken. His guardian was dead. His mount was dead.

He was alone.

“THIS WILL NOT END LIKE THIS!” he screamed, his voice hoarse from shouting so much.

“I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU! YOU WILL DIE! YOU WILL DIE BY MY HANDS!”

Kyrian fired.

The beam of violet light left his finger at the same instant, slicing through the air toward the young man’s heart.

But, at the exact moment of impact, something happened.

Another barrier appeared in front of the young man, not the golden and cracked barrier he had used before, but a different one.

Brighter. As if it were made of solidified sunlight.

Kyrian’s beam struck the barrier and dissipated, creating an explosion of violet and white sparks.

And then, a strange energy enveloped the young man’s body.

It was not common, Qi. It was not wind, fire, earth, water, or wood. It shone in white, pure and intense, wrapping every inch of the young man’s body like a cocoon of light.

The young man laughed.

It was a hysterical, manic laugh, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a smile that was not of joy.

“YOU ARE DEAD!” he shouted.

“YOU LOST, YOU TRASH! I WILL COME BACK! AND WHEN I COME BACK, YOU WILL…”

The white light exploded.

Kyrian raised an arm to shield his eyes. When the light dimmed, the young man had disappeared.

There was no body fallen on the ground. There was no trace of blood or pieces of flesh.

Only the empty place where he had been and the dead beast a few meters away.

Kyrian lowered his arm.

His violet eyes scanned the hillside, the sky, and the surrounding mountains. He activated the full capacity of his special eyes, trying to see as far as possible, searching for any trace of the young man.

Nothing.

The young man had simply… disappeared.

Kyrian frowned. This was a type of treasure, rare artifacts that activated automatically when the bearer was in mortal danger. Some created barriers.

Some healed wounds. Some…

Some teleported the user to a safe place.

And that one was among the rare. Very rare.

’The young man must be more important than I imagined.’ Kyrian thought.

He sighed lightly.

He did not care much.

The young man had escaped, yes. He would return one day, probably with reinforcements, seeking revenge. But Kyrian did not care about that at the moment.

Kyrian dismissed the lightning.

The violet eyes faded, and the crimson eyes returned. The sound of thunder ceased, and the night became silent once again.

Only the mountain wind blew, cold and indifferent. The rocky slope, which moments before had been illuminated by violet flashes, was now submerged in the natural darkness of the night.

Kyrian stood still for a moment, listening to the silence. The young man had disappeared. The beast was dead. The guardian was dying inside the chamber.

But there was something Kyrian had not recovered.

He turned and walked back toward the stone gate in the mountain. His steps were slow, almost lazy, as if he were in no hurry.

And he was not. The young man was already far away, if the teleportation treasure had taken him somewhere safe, there was no point in chasing after him.

The entrance to the tomb was still open, the dark stone gate wide like a hungry mouth. Kyrian entered the dark corridor again, his crimson eyes instantly adjusting to the absence of light.

The smell of blood and ozone still lingered in the air.

In the main chamber, the middle-aged man was lying on the ground, motionless. The blood that had poured from his wounds had formed a dark pool around his body, faintly reflecting the light of Kyrian’s eyes.

Kyrian approached.

The man was dead. His eyes were open, glazed, fixed on the stone ceiling as if still searching for something. The right arm had been cleanly severed at Kyrian’s eighth strike, and the chest was open from a deep cut that exposed broken ribs.

Kyrian felt no remorse.

He knelt beside the body and took the man’s left hand. On the ring finger, a simple spatial ring gleamed faintly, a circle of dark metal, without adornments, functional.

Kyrian removed it and stored the items inside in his own ring.

Then he stood up.

He looked at the body once more, then at the open stone coffin, the ancestor’s bones still inside. The chamber was silent now, as if it had never been violated.

Kyrian turned and left.

Outside, the night was even darker. Clouds had covered the stars, and a cold wind blew from the north, carrying the scent of distant rain.

Kyrian whistled.

The sound echoed across the slope, sharp and clear.

High above, a shadow moved among the clouds. Arcon descended in a swift dive, its black wings cutting through the dark air like blades. The beast landed beside Kyrian with a softness that contrasted with its imposing size. Its red eyes glowed in the darkness, and its nostrils flared, sniffing the scent of blood in the air.

Kyrian mounted the back of the black horse.

“Let’s go.” He said, lightly patting the beast’s neck.

Arcon beat its wings.

The wind rose around them, strong enough to lift small stones from the ground. The black wings spread fully, and with a powerful thrust, the beast took off.

The mountain was left behind.

Kyrian did not look back. He watched the dark silhouette of the peak gradually shrink, the stone gate becoming a small black dot on the slope, until it completely disappeared into the darkness.

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