Chapter 85: Cancer

The strike connected, driving deep enough to crack ribs beneath. Ezekiel grunted in pain but maintained his offensive pressure.

Their battle had reached stalemate, both wounded, but determined, neither gaining decisive advantage despite escalating injuries.

…

The behemoth’s situation deteriorated by the second. Ethan coordinated the assault, directing each general toward specific vulnerabilities he’d identified.

“Zhao, target the joint three inches left of your last strike,” he instructed while carving deeper into damaged tissue. “Wei, switch to the right foreleg—same technique.”

They all followed his guidance, each strike building upon previous damage. The behemoth’s natural regeneration couldn’t keep pace with accumulated trauma across multiple locations.

Two more limbs failed in succession, leaving the massive creature struggling to support its bulk with only four functional appendages.

’Almost there,’

Ethan thought, dodging a desperate swipe from the behemoth.

’Just need to maintain pressure.’

The creature’s roars had shifted from rage to distress, it recognized the approaching death. It thrashed with increasing desperation, each movement less coordinated than the last.

General Ruan delivered a crucial strike to the neck joint Ethan had been targeting. His blade finally penetrated deep enough to sever a decent chunk of skin.

“Finishing blow,” Ethan called, positioning himself beneath the creature’s jaw where its armor provided minimal protection.

His daggers rose, silver energy condensing around the blades as he prepared to deliver the killing strike.

One strike to end this.

Wind screamed through the air.

Multiple razor-sharp blades of compressed air streaked toward him, each carrying enough force to sever limbs.

The Harpy’s attack came without warning, perfectly timed to catch him in the most vulnerable position.

Kill the behemoth but lose an arm? Or dodge and waste the opportunity?

The calculation took milliseconds. Ethan threw himself backward, his speed carrying him clear as the wind blades struck.

Whish! Whish! Whish!

The attacks hammered the ground where he’d stood moments before, carving deep furrows in broken stone.

Dust and debris exploded outward from the impacts.

BOOM!

The behemoth, sensing reprieve, managed to lift its damaged head. Eye-stalks swiveled weakly but with obvious relief as death passed it by.

Ethan’s silver eyes blazed with fury as he turned toward Han. The general fought the Harpy fifty meters away.

His movements looked impressive from a distance, but his positioning had allowed the creature perfect angles for interference.

“Why are you not holding it back?” Ethan’s voice carried across the battlefield, enhanced by his mana. “You just wasted our opportunity to kill the behemoth!”

Han’s response came between sword strikes that never quite connected with their target. “The beast broke through my guard! I couldn’t—”

“Liar!” General Zhao’s lightning crackled with barely contained rage. “I saw your positioning! You let it attack!”

Ruan wiped blood from his blade, silver aura flickering with exhaustion and growing suspicion. “That Harpy has been retreating steadily. Now suddenly it counterattacks when we’re about to finish the behemoth?”

Wei’s twin swords trembled in his grip, furious.

“Are you working with them, Han?”

Soldiers within earshot turned to stare, uncertainty replacing battlefield focus as they processed the implications.

Han’s battle with the Harpy continued, but his response carried indignation that seemed just slightly too practiced. “How dare you question my loyalty! I’ve bled for this city!”

“Have you?” Ethan stepped forward, daggers still gleaming with behemoth blood.

“Because from where I stand, you’ve done everything possible to ensure our failure.”

The behemoth used this moment of human discord to begin regenerating its wounds.

’We’re losing momentum. Need to end this quickly.’

Ethan made his decision. “Ruan, Wei—keep the behemoth contained, do not engage it directly. Zhao, with me.”

“What are you doing?” Ruan demanded.

“Ending the real threat.” Ethan’s silver aura flared as he activated Enhanced Speed. “The one that’s been orchestrating this entire disaster.”

He launched himself toward Han, leaving the shocked generals to process his intent.

Above, the Harpy screeched what sounded almost like laughter as chaos consumed the human ranks.

Han’s eyes widened in shock as Ethan’s silver-wreathed form streaked toward him. The accusation, the fury in those enhanced eyes—everything had shifted too quickly.

Damn it. I knew it was obvious but the behemoth is too important to lose.

“City Lord!” Han’s voice cracked with desperation, pitched to carry across the battlefield. “I’m being surrounded! They’re betraying the city! Help me!”

His plea echoed through the ruins, soldiers turning confused faces toward the unfolding drama.

Ezekiel didn’t even glance in his direction.

The City Lord remained locked in deadly combat with the monkey, clashing in devastating exchanges that left no attention for subordinate concerns.

He’s not going to help. I’m on my own.

The Harpy swooped lower, wind-enhanced wings generating cyclonic currents that hammered Ethan mid-charge.

The attack disrupted his Enhanced Speed, forcing him to adjust trajectory as debris and dust swirled around him.

“You see?” Han shouted to the watching soldiers, seizing the reprieve. “The monsters defend me because I’ve been negotiating for peace! These fools want endless war!”

His words carried his previous status and authority, reaching ears already rattled by the night’s horrors.

Some soldiers hesitated, uncertainty replacing blind obedience.

Perfect. I’ve already planted the seed of doubt, now i need to grow it. Fast!

“I’ve discovered the truth!” Han continued, silver aura flaring dramatically. “The City Lord sacrificed entire districts to maintain his power! I tried to save lives through diplomacy!”

A handful of soldiers—young recruits mostly, terrified and desperate for any alternative to slaughter—began moving toward Han’s position.

Their faces reflected hope born from desperation rather than conviction.

Ethan saw them coming. Saw the cancer beginning to spread.

Remove it before it spreads.

His daggers found the first recruit before the boy fully processed his movement.

Ethan appeared between three more soldiers in a blur, each strike precise and lethal.

No hesitation. No mercy for traitors, not in times of war.

“Demon!”

One soldier screamed, his sword clattering from nerveless fingers as he witnessed his comrades die in seconds.

Ethan turned toward him, his eyes reflecting neither warmth or coldness.

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