Countless footfalls broke the oppressive silence of the night, as dozens of men marched through the fields. They moved as quietly as they could, but there was only so much such a large group could do to mask their presence.

Most of them were doomed to die tonight, though they didn’t seem to care about that, continuing their journey as if it was any other day. Only their leader had his brow creased, various thoughts swirling within his tired mind. Every now and then, he glanced at the letter in his hands, examining the order that had led him to such a risky move.

‘To Archibald, Patriarch of House Avalon,

You are hereby ordered to present yourself at the Alchemists’ Guild within the next two weeks, to answer for your involvement in withholding the Aurora Dew’s recipe from the Divine Order. Furthermore, you are accused of severe negligence, at best, or sedition, at worst, as one of the Divine Root’s field agents has gone missing inside your family’s territory.

Failure to comply will be considered an admission of guilt and evidence of rebellion. Suffice to say, your penalty will be far more severe in such circumstances and will extend to the rest of your House.

Deimos, Envoy of the Divine Root’

He sighed. At least, the fact that they wanted him to turn himself in, coupled with Percy’s wanted posters circulating around Remior were good signs that his grandson had evaded capture.

But he had to show up at the Guild. That much was unavoidable. And his odds of walking out of there a free man weren’t that great. This was why he’d decided to do one last thing for his family, to place House Avalon in a better spot in the years to come.

‘It’s about time.’ he thought, glancing at the enemy’s headquarters.

Strictly speaking, this was something he’d considered doing many times before. But a family’s patriarch couldn’t easily leave their territory, lest they left their House open to attack.

Luckily, their circumstances had changed a little over the past few months. Galahad not only had Circulation now, but even a brand-new acid affinity. And he had already opened the new channels, even though he’d yet to extend the boosting art to all of them. Archibald was more confident leaving his son in charge of the family, trusting in his ability to hold his own even against a Violet if it came to it.

This was why he’d even dared to leave the mansion, but he couldn’t possibly leave the Camelot province entirely. Not without dealing with House Tantalus once and for all.

“Go.” he muttered softly.

The others in his company spread out, circling the enemy headquarters from every direction. Naturally, these weren’t real people – each of them sporting an appearance identical to his own. They were his clones! 120 of them in total!

Watching them move, he took a deep breath after another, a series of verdant lines lighting up on his skin, swirling around like vines.

‘No room for mistakes.’ he sighed, his expression grim.

His objectives were set in stone. He had to exterminate House Tantalus tonight, forever purging this cancer from his family’s territory. And he couldn’t leave any witnesses behind, or news of Circulation would spread around like wildfire, drawing even more trouble to their province.

A couple of scouts spotted his clones – there were too many of them to hide. Sadly for the nobles, however, Archibald had spotted them much earlier. And the speed of his troops wasn’t a joke, covering dozens of metres with each stride. Expertly positioning the clones like chess pieces, he swiftly took out the younger mages before they even got a chance to signal back to their family.

Soon enough, his army invaded through every door and every window in the building, dispatching anyone they encountered in the process. Controlling so many bodies at once was a monumental task, but he’d had centuries to master his bloodline.

The first few seconds went by without a hitch, most of the enemies being fast asleep this late at night. Yet, it was inevitable that something would go wrong eventually.

A single clone sported the physique of a Violet, but it couldn’t use magic. Even a Green should be able to hold their own against them. Especially given how many he had to control. Once the first person survived the ambush, everything went downhill.

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“ENEMY ATTACK!” a panicked scream pierced through the bloodshed, alerting the rest of the nobles.

It didn’t take long for the mansion to light up in all sorts of colours, the family’s Greens and Blues engaging his clones in battle. Archibald clicked his tongue, but he maintained his focus, having expected this.

At first, he held the upper hand. Carried by their momentum, his clones continued to advance deeper into the building, laying waste to its unfortunate residents.

But his opponents eventually regained their bearing. Eventually, the first clone fell, and then the second. The fifth. The twentieth. Broteas himself – a fellow Violet – slaughtered a dozen of them with ease, his lieutenants not falling far behind.

Gritting his teeth, Archibald poured more mana into his troops, activating a spell. The clones’ heartbeats sped up, as veins and arteries bulged like roots all over their skin. Their movements grew faster, their attacks more forceful, as they stared at their opponents with bloodshot eyes.

Archibald would have used this from the start if he could, but he didn’t want to waste it until they were deep inside the mansion. After all, the clones wouldn’t last more than a few minutes under this boost.

The high-ranking nobles were instantly on the back-foot again. The first Blue died not long after the spell took effect, a second joining him a couple minutes later. The Yellows who had grouped up to keep the clones at bay were instantly outmatched. Soon, only Greens or higher remained alive. Before long, a thick crimson mist spilled out of the mansion, the stench of iron reaching Archibald who stood a hundred metres away.

But it wasn’t his clones walking out alive a few minutes later. It was the enemy nobles…

“I didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest.” Broteas said, his face grim. “But I suppose this is the world we live in, isn’t it?”

Archibald didn’t reply. His gut churned at the atrocity he’d just committed. And he knew he wasn’t even done yet. But he didn’t regret it. It was either them, or his family. And House Tantalus had already proven themselves more than willing to do the same.

By now, only 15 people stood in the enemy ranks. Broteas, two Blues and twelve Greens. All the weaklings had already perished. After the severe losses they’d suffered over the last couple of years, catching them by surprise in the middle of the night had been the final nail in the coffin.

“It’s over now.” Broteas said. “At the end of the day, it’s still our victory, isn’t it? You’ll die tonight, Archibald. You’ll die screaming, after you spill the beans on that weird spell boosting your magic. Then, I’ll wait for the Divine Root to crush your family, before rebuilding my own from the ashes.”

Archibald sighed, allowing Circulation to fizzle out, plopping down weakly.

“If you wanted to do any of that, you should have held your breath…”

Broteas raised an eyebrow, though his confusion didn’t last long. A loud, wet cough drew his attention, as he jerked his head towards one of the surviving Greens. The man was on his knees, blood pouring like a waterfall from every orifice on his face.

“What the–?!”

He barely got to ask the question, when a second man met the same fate, followed by a third. By the time he turned back to Archibald, one of the Blues had collapsed too, the Greens already spasming in agony.

Violent streams of mana gushed out of Broteas’s pores like rivers, blending into a raging lake around him. It grew and stabilized as it mixed with his domain, threatening to cover the entire battlefield. However, he never got the chance to use it, as a wave of vertigo slammed into his head too, causing him to lose control of his mana, the water splashing out harmlessly.

“Didn’t you think it a little strange that I sent over half my clones after you?” Archibald asked.

The man’s eyes widened in realization. Had Archibald wanted to maximize his odds of victory, he should have kept the clones as far from him as possible, shouldn’t he? Only after taking out all his underlings should he have tried to outnumber a fellow Violet. Unless he had something else in mind…

Getting up, Archibald walked towards Broteas, reading the notification flashing before his eyes.

[Congratulations! Your spell has evolved: Secret Art: Vector of Disease – Masterful -> Secret Art: Plaguebringer – Masterful!]

Naturally, he’d had his Secret Art for centuries already, though this was the first time he got to use it at such a large scale. Not to mention how much stronger it had grown, thanks to Circulation and the vastly increased number of clones.

Broteas’s spell crumbled, as he started bleeding too. He seemed to have accepted his fate, after seeing the last of his men die.

“Mind answering a question before you finish me?” Broteas asked. “Just where the hell did you learn this spell? I’ve never even heard of anything like it.”

Archibald shrugged.

“I’ll tell you if you answer a few questions of my own.” he replied, getting a nod back. “Remember that massacre you ordered a couple decades ago?”

Broteas frowned.

“Are you seriously – cough, cough – trying to claim the moral high ground after what you’ve just done tonight?”

“That’s not it.” Archibald said, not bothering to explain.

“…sure.” the man spat. “There was an opportunity to deal a blow to your family, and I took it. I didn’t think much of it. What’s even the big deal? If I’m not mistaken, we only managed to take a few Red-borns out that time, didn’t we? Just collateral damage.” he said, visibly holding back another coughing fit.

Archibald nodded.

“Well, my grandson is the one who taught me the spell. The same grandson the Divine Root is after.”

Broteas laughed, but it came out gurgled.

“You’re kidding right? Isn’t he just a Red-born runt?”

Reaching Broteas, Archibald looked down at him. He stared into his eyes, his expression cold as an iceberg.

“He is. He was lucky enough to escape that massacre, but his parents weren’t. I’m sure he’d be glad to know I used Circulation to take down your family. But that wasn’t what he was thinking about when he taught me the spell.”

The man’s smile soured at the sound of that, but Archibald continued, right as the light finally left Broteas’s eyes.

“…you were just collateral damage.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep