"Ahh!" The masked man groaned in pain, collapsing to the ground and backing away in terror. His severed limb lay on the floor as he clutched his bleeding arm, grimacing.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" demanded the leader, his voice echoing in the confined space, thick with tension.
There was no vocal response, but a spear on the wall shifted, and in an instant, it pierced one of the intruders in the leg.
"AHH!" Another loud groan resounded in the room, reverberating off the cold, stone walls.
They guessed someone was hiding and manipulating these weapons. But they couldn't sense anyone; these weapons moved on their own. This was ghostly in their eyes.
Fear gripped the remaining men as they eyed the countless weapons adorning the walls, unsure if they would move next.
"We'll leave right away," one of the intruders finally broke down after a long silence, his voice trembling and eyes darting wildly. "Please, let us go."
"Please spare us! We'll never come here again!" another joined, desperation thick in his voice. "We'll leave the state!"
"You came uninvited, and now you want to leave?" A ghostly voice reverberated through the room, seemingly coming from nowhere, echoing off the high ceilings and polished floors.
Their guess turned out to be true with that ghostly voice. Someone was indeed controlling these weapons.
Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the ominous vibration of the weapons on the walls. The four intruders felt an overwhelming sense of dread. In the next moment, the weapons sprang to life.
"AHHH!"
Their screams filled the room as swords, spears, and other weapons rained down upon them. Although they desperately tried to defend themselves, it was futile against the rain of weapons.
One by one, the intruders were struck, their cries of agony echoing until they were silenced forever. The room fell quiet, the weapons returning to their places as if nothing had happened.
Once their screams ended, a tall figure appeared in front of the pile of corpses. Duke Renard stared at the bodies with pity-filled eyes, yet there was nothing more he could do.
"You can come out now," Duke Renard's voice rang through the room, steady and authoritative.
Zhao Shi's figure emerged from a wall, giving a slight bow towards Duke Renard.
Hidden in the shadows, Zhao Shi had witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows across his face, highlighting his astonishment. What he saw was incomprehensible to him.
"You must be wondering why I killed them outright instead of questioning them," Duke Renard said, his tone measured and calm.
"That artifact... It's you!" His eyes widened in recognition. "Pooella de Ainsworth."
Pooella de Ainsworth, the guardian of the Everhart family's Saintess. One of the strongest of the seven guardians he knew of.
"Oh, you know me," the woman said casually, dismissing his shock.
"How are you alive?" the man asked, disbelief in his eyes as he stared at her. "You died six years ago."
"How could I die at the hands of a few nobodies?" she replied, twirling the rapier in her hand.
"If you're still alive, why haven't you returned to the Holy Land?" the crooked man asked.
"Take a guess," replied the woman casually.
"Oh, now I get it," the man said, clutching something behind his back. "You were ordered to stay in the mortal empire and protect the little brat."
"And even if you know, what could you do?" she asked mockingly.
"I will—" the man began, raising his hand, but a cold voice interrupted him.
"Foolish."
His hand froze mid-air, unable to throw the shiny ball he held. His face contorted in pain as he looked down at his body. He couldn't see her make a move, it was too fast, but two large holes had appeared, one in his abdomen and one in his heart.
An ascendant at his level might survive damage to the heart, but the wound to his abdomen, where his core lay, was fatal. For ascendants, the core was the most vital part of their body, the center of their energy. Without it, they were no more than ordinary humans.
"Any last words?" the woman asked.
"Once our king returns, you'll suffer; your whole family will suffer," the dying man muttered.
"I see. Then be gone."
He saw a flash of light coming towards him. This time, it was aimed at his head.
"Too ruthless," he managed to say before a hole was drilled into his skull, and he collapsed.
The woman pulled out the rapier and swung it once, clearing the blood from the blade.
"I didn't expect they would find little miss so soon." With a final glance at the fallen man, she vanished into the night.