Chapter 734 Lucendi | Requiem

Chapter 734 Lucendi | Requiem

The leader of the group clenched his fists. "We'll just attack them all. The real one will show himself soon enough."

With a collective nod, they unleashed a barrage of energy, sending beams of destructive force toward each of the illusions.

But before their attacks could land, the clones suddenly moved, leaping toward the men with inhuman speed. Chaos erupted. Trees were uprooted, the ground torn apart as fists collided with flesh.

Every strike from the illusions felt real, sending shockwaves through the grandmasters, who were caught completely off guard.

None of them noticed the real boy.

Sitting casually on a high branch, he watched the chaos unfold below, lazily chewing on an apple, his eyes half-closed in boredom. His legs swung idly over the edge of the branch as he let the clones do the dirty work.

Zarial Umbrin, Apex of the Lucendi.

"Boring," he murmured.

A soft rustling above him signaled the arrival of an old man, hovering just above the branch. He was the head of the Umbrin family.

"You've improved," the elder commented, watching the battle below with a faint smile.

Zarial didn't respond right away, still chewing his apple. His eyes remained on the struggle beneath them, where the grandmasters were futilely fighting illusions.

After a moment, he tossed the apple core to the ground, his lazy amusement fading.

"This is a waste of time," he said flatly. "The other Apexes won't fall for simple tricks like this."

The elder raised an eyebrow. "You're capable of fooling and fighting grandmaster ranks at your age. I doubt many of the other Apexes could match that." n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Zarial finally turned to look at the elder, his eyes narrowing. "Then you know nothing."

All heads turned as a lone figure descended from the sky, his silhouette framed by the pale light of the domain. His mere presence seemed to drain the life out of the space, leaving everything in a haunting stillness.

The figure landed gently, his dark cloak barely brushing the ground. His skin was deathly pale, as if it had never touched sunlight, and his eyes were darker than night itself. He stood tall and lithe, with a twin-bladed spear strapped to his back.

The general's blood drained from his face, recognition hitting him like a hammer. "No... it can't be."

Erevan Noctis. The Apex of the Requiem race.

The lieutenant whispered in terror, "It's him..."

Erevan didn't say a word. He simply raised one hand, his black eyes glowing with a soft, eerie light.

As soon as his arm lifted, the attacking army froze, their movements halting as though invisible strings had been cut. A deathly silence spread across the battlefield, and then... it happened.

The soldiers' eyes went glassy, their bodies rigid. Without warning, they began to turn on each other, their blades slicing through the air in perfect synchronization.

In mere moments, heads began to roll, blood spilled freely, and one by one, the entire attacking army fell in a self-imposed massacre.

The Requiem youths stood by helplessly, watching as their enemies slaughtered each other without resistance.

The general's scream broke the eerie silence, his voice filled with panic as he tried to command his soldiers back into formation. "Stop! Stop this madness!"

But it was too late. His voice was swallowed by the unnatural quiet as Erevan watched the carnage unfold, dispassionately, as if it were nothing more than an afterthought.

His face remained emotionless, and without so much as a glance back, he lifted off the ground and disappeared into the spectral sky.

The general collapsed to his knees, trembling as he took in the sight of his decimated army—wiped out in moments, and Erevan hadn't even lifted a weapon.

The Requiem were feared for good reason. Their power wasn't in brute strength but in their dominion over souls.

They could extract, manipulate, and command the souls of the living and the dead, bending them to their will.

In battle, they could sever the connection between body and soul with just a thought, reducing even the mightiest of armies to nothing more than empty shells.