ERA OF DESTINY-Chapter 140: DAY 2: EXECUTION–THE COUNTERMOVE – V

Roga Rossan tore apart the second-to-last chain.

The sound was not loud, yet it traveled through the dungeon like a pulse through bone. Only one restraint remained now. One final chain. Once it fell, the formation anchoring him would lose its meaning, and nothing would keep his lower body bound to the portal any longer.

Rossan reached for the last chain.

At a glance, it looked no different from the others. Same thickness. Same material. Same dull glow of ancient seals. It should have broken just as easily. Yet the chains had never been meant to restrain him by strength alone.

Their true purpose lay elsewhere.

The formation existed to prevent Rossan’s body from fully crossing the portal. The chains, however, carried a deeper function–to bind oath and will. Each time one chain was destroyed, its tensile strength, hardness, and resistance did not vanish. They were transferred.

From one chain to the next.From the next to the last.

Now, the final restraint carried the weight of all the broken ones before it.

Rossan pulled.

The chain screamed as he slammed his massive frame against it again and again, molten cracks spreading across his skin as lava dripped from his body and hissed against the stone. His patience had long since eroded–made worse by the presence standing beside him.

"Roya," Rossan growled, his voice vibrating through the chamber."Once I break this chain... it will be your end."

Roga Roya lowered his head.

"Rossan," he said quietly, "I know I broke the oath of kin. As a Roga, I should have kept my promise. You were generous to me. You gave me shelter. Strength. Trust."

His fingers tightened.

"I am the one who betrayed our oath. Will you give me a chance... to atone for what I have done?"

Rossan paused.

"Atone...?" he repeated slowly."Isn’t that a word forbidden among our tribe?"

His eyes burned.

"And you dare speak it openly?"

Roya did not raise his head.

"You left me here to starve," Rossan continued, feigning confusion. "Since you want to do that thing... what was it again?"

"Atone," Roya replied.

Rossan’s lips split into a greedy smile.

"Yes. That.""Then become my food instead of slaves and babies. What do you think?"

"I’m willing," Roga Roya said.

Rossan laughed.

"Now you finally sound like my kin.""Come. Fill my stomach."

Roga Roya stepped forward.

Lava poured endlessly from Rossan’s body, splashing across the ground in molten streaks. As Rossan reached out, the burning heat should have reduced Roya to ash–but the lava hardened mid-motion, turning to stone as Rossan seized him.

The hardened hand closed.

Roya vanished into Rossan’s mouth.

Inside, flesh burned like parchment in fire. Skin peeled away. Pain existed–but ash did not. Rossan swallowed while Roya was still alive, his body descending into the furnace of his abdomen, burning endlessly without release.

"The scent of one’s own kin," Rossan muttered, "is not pleasant..."

"...yet it is as addictive as a baby’s."

Strength surged through him.

Rossan roared and threw himself against the chain once more.

Above the dungeon, concealed in perfect stillness, spiderlings clung upside down over the heads of the Hellfire Dog and the Gluttony Crow. They did not move. They waited.

In the pseudo palace, Kiaria opened his eyes.

He tapped his forefinger once against the throne’s armrest.

The sound was almost nothing–yet the spiritual vibration spread through the entire fortress, audible only to those meant to hear it.

The spiderlings received the order.

From their mouths, Spore Balls dropped.

They rolled down spiral staircases, bounced across fifth floors, fourth floors, third, second, and first. They fell into chambers, hideouts, feeding dens–landing precisely upon the bodies of beasts that had been secretly nourished with stolen lives.

Rossan tore the final chain apart.

His entire body surged free of the portal.

"Finally," he roared, lava cascading from his form,"I am free!"

The Spore Balls clung to him.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Dandelion physiology did not act instantly.

Kiaria snapped his fingers.

The protective envelope vanished.

He remembered the defining property of the spores–

their resistance.

Fire.Water.Acid.Extreme temperatures.

All meaningless.

A faint smile crossed Kiaria’s face.

Roya’s body had already been destroyed. It no longer shielded anything. The Spore Balls remained–inside Rossan.

Then erosion began.

Not explosion.Not collapse.

Erasure.

Rossan’s body disintegrated silently, his roar dying without echo. The Gluttony Crow dissolved. The Hellfire Dog vanished. Hidden beasts across the fortress followed–one after another–until nothing remained.

The shaking stopped.

The fortress fell into stillness.

Calm returned–not as relief, but as certainty.

The shaking had drawn everyone out.

Tribes. Association members. Merchants. Refugees.

By the time the last tremor faded, the entire population of the fortress had gathered in the market district–crowded, breathless, confused, fear still clinging to their skin.

That, too, had been intentional.

"Evil Spider," Kiaria asked calmly, seated upon the throne,

"did everyone gather?"

"Yes, Master," the reply came through spiritual transmission.

"All saved."

Kiaria’s gaze did not shift.

"Saved?" he repeated softly.

"No."

He leaned back.

"I only forced the mastermind to move his king."

The Evil Spider did not understand.

Kiaria did not explain.

–

At the market entrance, the freed captives collapsed to their knees.

More than five hundred bodies struck stone almost at once.

Tears streamed. Voices overlapped. Gratitude poured out unfiltered, desperate, ugly in its relief.

"You are our God!"

"Our savior!"

"Thank you for our lives!"

"We will serve you forever!"

All of it–aimed at Mimi.

She stood frozen for a heartbeat.

Then–

"Stop."

No one heard.

"Stop!" she shouted.

Silence rippled outward.

"I am not the one who saved you," Mimi said, voice tight.

"It was Geng."

A stir.

"Geng...?"

"Who is Geng?"

"Geng?"

Whispers grew uneasy.

Behind a closed market stall, Geng stood motionless, fists clenched so tightly his nails cut into his palms. He did not move. He did not breathe freely.

"Geng," she said firmly.

"Come out."

His chest tightened.

Slowly, he stepped forward.

The moment his face was fully visible–

"Monster!"

"Run!"

"That’s not Geng!"

"He’s the butcher!"

Fear erupted like rot breaking through skin.

Mimi turned on them.

"NO."

Her voice cut through the noise.

"You are wrong."

She stepped in front of him without hesitation.

"He is Geng," she said.

"The same Geng who saved you."

"He always wanted to save people. And now–he did."

Her eyes burned.

"How dare you slander the one who saved your lives?"

Confusion replaced fear.

"We... we saw him killing..."

"Geng never killed anyone before..."

"He wasn’t like that..."

Geng laughed.

It was not loud.

It was hollow.

"You’re right," he said calmly.

"When I still believed life had meaning–I didn’t kill."

His gaze sharpened.

"And after hope was taken from me... I did."

His voice hardened.

"I was brutal."

He looked at them one by one.

"Were you there to stop me?"

Silence.

"I was right beside your chambers," Geng continued.

"The dungeon locks were never sealed. Anyone could open them."

His jaw tightened.

"Did you come when my mother was dragged away?"

"When Roya took my infant sister–who couldn’t even crawl–right in front of you?"

His voice rose–not in anger, but accusation.

"He was alone. You were more than five hundred."

No one spoke.

"If even ten of you had stepped forward," he said quietly,

"my mother would be alive."

"My sister would be here."

His eyes were steady now.

"Compared to you–call me a monster if you want."

"At least I stood up for the dead."

He exhaled.

"And in the end... I even forgave him when he repented."

He looked at them.

"So tell me–what about you?"

A woman finally spoke, trembling.

"We... we couldn’t."

"If we resisted, we would’ve been killed immediately."

Others nodded eagerly.

"Yes!"

"At least one of us could survive if we stayed silent!"

"If we acted, we would all be dead!"

Geng laughed again.

This time, it carried weight.

"You’re right," he said.

"If you blocked him, you would’ve died."

His eyes narrowed.

"So why didn’t I?"

Silence deepened.

"I didn’t submit," he said.

"I fought back."

"And because of that–you’re alive."

He gestured around them.

"If I had obeyed him," Geng said,

"you would’ve been fed to beasts one by one."

A woman snapped back, desperate.

"No! You’re wrong!"

"We saved ourselves!"

"We ran out on our own legs!"

"You didn’t carry us!"

Geng laughed openly now.

"Hahaha..."

He turned to Mimi.

"Did you hear that?"

"What flawless logic."

He shook his head.

"Who would’ve thought God’s words would come true like this?"

Mimi stepped beside him.

"Forget them," she said quietly.

"We did what our hearts demanded."

"They’re free now. That’s all."

She met his eyes.

"You have no ties with them anymore."

A scoff rose from the crowd.

"Tch. Bluffs."

Geng smiled.

Inside the pseudo palace, silence gathered around Kiaria.

Not the empty kind–but the kind that follows realization.

Everyone was looking at him.

Fu Cai stood among them, her gaze steady, unblinking. As a Body Truth Chrysanthemum, she already understood what had been done, when it had been done, and what kind of outcome such a move would inevitably create. Yet even she felt something unfamiliar stirring beneath that understanding.

He had countered an entire board.

Without leaving the throne.

"Patron..." Princess Lainsa finally spoke, breaking the stillness. "What did you do? How... and when?"

Diala had not moved since the shaking stopped. Her eyes remained fixed on Kiaria, as if she were still watching events replay in reverse inside her mind.

Kiaria did not answer aloud.

Instead, his voice reached Lainsa alone–quiet, direct, unshielded.

"Big Sister," he asked through spiritual transmission, "do you know why the Enlightenment Sect differs from every other sect?"

Lainsa answered instinctively.

"Because it seeks enlightenment from nature itself."

The realization struck her mid-thought.

Her breath caught.

"You didn’t..." she began, disbelief breaking through her composure.

"You used that–"

"Indeed," Kiaria replied calmly.

"As expected of my elder sister. You found the key immediately."

Her eyes widened.

"No wonder you said we would use small moves," Lainsa murmured.

"You weren’t targeting the board. You were shaking the land–by striking the tree having deepest root."

Kiaria allowed a faint pause.

Then–

"Ahem."

The sound snapped the others back into awareness.

They were still confused. Completely.

They had entered the pseudo palace before the execution phase began. Everything they knew had come from Kiaria’s explanations alone. They had felt the shaking, sensed the pressure–but the truth remained out of sight.

Kiaria rose slowly from the throne.

"I know you are confused," he said evenly.

"So let me ask you something instead."

His gaze swept across them.

"Do you want to know who the King on the board truly is?"

"And who the real Formation Master has always been?"

"Yes," Azriel answered without hesitation.

"We do."

Kiaria nodded once.

"Then we’ll go to the marketplace," he said.

"Everyone has already gathered there."

A pause.

"Let’s play a side game."

Mu Long exhaled, unable to stop himself.

"Patron... you are truly something else."

A rift formed in the air inside the pseudo palace.

Space bent inward, folding cleanly without distortion.

Before anyone stepped forward, Kiaria spoke again–this time with absolute authority.

"From this point onward," he said,

"no one speaks unless I command it."

His eyes sharpened.

"No expressions. No reactions. No gestures."

"Once we enter, keep your faces cold. Empty."

"Stare at them as though you are staring through them."

He turned slightly toward Fu Cai.

"With Fairy Fu Cai’s power, you will levitate. The air itself will be your platform."

"They must not understand you. They must not read you."

His tone hardened.

"When the Formation Master is revealed–do not react.""Remain calm."

Silence answered him.

Each of them committed his words to memory.

Then, together, they stepped forward.

The rift swallowed them whole.

And in the next instant–

They appeared high above the marketplace, suspended in midair, gazing down upon the gathered masses like an unreadable judgment descending from the sky.

The final act was ready to begin.