Anatoly smiled slowly.
— So… it’s you.
The pressure of the aura changed.
It wasn’t overwhelming like Kyros’s.
It was different. Denser. Wrong. Like something that should not exist at that point in time.
— From the beginning… — Anatoly brought a hand to his chest, laughing softly. — Since Sorriso… since the flawed reports… it was you, the rat moving the pieces.
Lukas took a step forward.
The ground creaked beneath his Gath boots.
His left eye burned in purple-black.
His right shone in absolute gold.
— Drop the sphere. — his voice came out low, firm. — This fight isn’t about provocation.
Anatoly burst into laughter.
— Hahahaha!
You really think you can demand anything from me?
He tilted his head, evaluating Lukas as if choosing a blade.
— Interesting… you don’t have mana of your own. — he smiled. — Yet you’re filled with forbidden power.
What kind of aberration are you?
Lukas snorted.
— Aberration?
Look who’s talking.
He spun the gladius once.
— I’m the one who’s going to kill you.
Inside his mind, Morgana whispered, excited:
— Oh, chocolatinho… that smile.
That look… you’re not the same anymore.
And that’s beautiful.
César replied, tense:
— Legionary, be careful.
He’s testing your stability. Don’t advance without—
Anatoly raised his hand.
Blood condensed in the air, forming vibrating blades.
— Last chance, boy. — his voice turned venomous. — Kneel…
And maybe I’ll let you live as my toy.
Lukas vanished.
The impact came before the sound.
CLANG.
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The gladius split the blood blade in half. Anatoly stepped back.
— Oh… — the XI in his eyes glowed. — So that’s how it is…
Sarya felt it.
The air became too heavy to breathe.
— Lukas… — she murmured. — There’s something wrong with you…
He didn’t answer.
— Stay behind me. — he said, without turning his head.
Anatoly smiled wide.
— Protecting someone too?
You humans are so predictable.
He advanced.
Blood turned into a tide.
— César.
The shield appeared before the impact — solid.
The magic shattered against it.
Sarya’s eyes widened.
— That… that’s high-tier defense…
Anatoly narrowed his eyes.
— So it’s you… — he growled. — The wrong son.
The crimson aura closed in.
— Very well, little rat. — he raised the sphere before his face. — Let’s see how long you last…
knowing your father is screaming inside this.
Something snapped inside Lukas.
Gold and purple mixed.
The wind stopped.
— You talked too much.
The gladius came down.
It wasn’t fast.
It was heavy. Full of intent.
Anatoly crashed into the ground, cracking the western district.
— Hahaha… now this is it… — he looked up. — Now I see.
He stood up.
— Kyros isn’t the problem.
You are.
— Failure. — he spat. — A failure moving the pieces of the great ones.
Lukas smiled.
A smile that wasn’t human.
— Funny… — he tightened his grip on the gladius. — A relic like you acting superior, when you’re the weakest of the Original Disasters…
Looks like I’m not the only failure here.
Anatoly attacked, furious.
— I’ll rip your tongue out! How dare you compare yourself to me, trash!
Lukas answered.
The fight turned brutal.
Cuts. Impacts. Blood in the air.
— Lukas! — a voice shouted.
Ravia appeared in the distance, wounded but steady.
— CATCH!
She threw a golden flask.
Anatoly tried to grab it.
Lukas was faster.
The gladius flashed.
SURGICAL CUT.
One of Anatoly’s hands fell to the ground.
In the same motion, Lukas caught the flask midair.
Insane reflex.
César’s eyes widened.
— Good… she did a good job.
But there’s a concentration flaw. That could cause collapse.
Morgana laughed.
— She knows that.
That’s just who she is.
Lukas replied mentally:
— I know.
She knows.
— I can fix it. — César said. — One minute.
Mental runes aligned.
— Done.
Lukas turned and threw the flask.
— Sarya!
Drink it.
She caught it instinctively.
— Your mana is in conflict.
Elven anatomy reacts differently. You’ll be fine.
Sarya hesitated.
— And you?!
— Relax. — he smiled. — Collapse isn’t in my vocabulary.
César protested:
— Legionary, this was NOT part of the plan!
— I’ve been through worse.
Morgana sighed, enchanted:
— Ah… that’s what excites me.
Anatoly roared.
— DAMNED FAILURE!
He attacked again.
Lukas firmed his stance.
The sound was heavy.
A hundred warriors appeared.
All marked by time.
All carrying the blood of Disasters.
— You’ve aged, Kyros. — one of them snarled. — But you still have that hateful appearance.
— You die today.
Kyros looked around.
Unarmed.
He smiled.
— Do you really think this prison will hold me?
The black armor manifested.
— What…? — the enemies stepped back.
— You don’t remember this? — Kyros laughed. — You think I stood still for forty-five years?
Ra Lumpa laughed.
— My lord… they’re trembling.
— Dominae.
The aura exploded.
— Temple of the Supreme Eclipse.
The presence crushed everything.
— This… this feels like a Disaster! — someone screamed.
— No. — Kyros replied. — It’s worse.
He assumed a combat stance.
Capoeira fused with jujitsu.
— I’ll show you why you should have stayed in the North.
The hundred warriors advanced.
Kyros smiled.
— Come.
His eyes shone like an eclipse.
— No one leaves here alive.
This time… I won’t fail.
End of Chapter 12

