ONLINE: Blades of Eternity-Chapter 289: HUMAN PUPPETS

The moment King Alexandria's smirk widened, an instinctual dread crawled up the royal elf's spine. His body reacted before his mind could process it—his feet taking an unconscious step back.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

But before panic could fully take hold, the familiar presence of his royal guards flanking him brought a fleeting sense of reassurance. Their imposing figures stood tall, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. The sight of them, unwavering in their duty, allowed him to regain a sliver of composure.

But unfortunately, that sliver didn't last.

Because in the very next instant—

BOOM!

A grotesque explosion of blood and viscera erupted from the bodies of the four royal guards. One moment they stood firm, the next, their forms violently burst apart into chunks of mangled flesh and armor, showering the royal elf in the remains of what was once his elite protectors.

Gasps. Screams. Horrified wails.

The coliseum instantly erupted into pure chaos right after.

The audience, frozen in their seats just moments ago, now scrambled over one another in a desperate bid to flee. Some tripped, others were shoved aside, and the deafening sound of thousands of frantic footsteps filled the once-glorious battleground.

But amidst the hysteria—

King Alexandria did not move.

He did not react to the carnage.

He did not even acknowledge the screaming masses.

Instead—

He simply vanished.

And then—

He reappeared.

Right before the stunned, blood-spattered royal elf.

Their eyes met.

And in the frozen moment that followed, the royal elf could feel the sheer, soul-crushing presence of the man before him. His body refused to move. His breath hitched. His entire being screamed at him to run, but his legs betrayed him—rooted to the ground as if the very weight of death itself had wrapped around him.

"Why.... are you doing this?"

And then, just as the elf's horror reached its peak, King Alexandria leaned in ever so slightly—his lips parting to whisper in a voice so cold, so devoid of emotion, that it sank into his very bones:

"I told you…"

A pause.

"This is the end of the line for you."

And suddenly, In the eyes of everyone watching—especially Castaneda, whose expression had darkened into something unreadable—King Alexandria acted without hesitation.

With a swift, merciless motion, his right hand plunged through the royal elf's chest.

There was no chance to resist. No time to react.

A sickening, wet squelch echoed across the coliseum, drowning out the distant cries of the fleeing spectators. The elf's eyes widened in pure agony, his mouth opening as if to scream—yet no sound came. Only a strained gasp left his lips as his body convulsed.

A second later, King Alexandria withdrew his hand.

Dripping with fresh crimson, his fingers curled tightly around a still-beating heart—its rhythm slowing, weakening, fading—until it stopped entirely.

The royal elf looked down at the gaping hole in his chest, his expression frozen in shock. His lips trembled, but no words formed.

Then—

His body crumpled.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, he collapsed onto the platform, lifeless. His golden robes were now stained a deep, gruesome red as his vacant eyes stared into nothingness.

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell upon the coliseum.

Even the most battle-hardened warriors felt an unnatural chill crawl up their spines.

Yet, amidst the sea of fear-stricken faces—King Alexandria simply smiled.

That eerie, bone-chilling grin remained as he looked down at the heart in his grasp.

And then—

"Thank you."

His voice, calm yet dripping with something unsettling, slithered through the air.

And before anyone could comprehend the sheer brutality of what had just happened—

He vanished.

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared before the growing Fissure.

A rip in space. An abyss of swirling darkness.

Without a moment's hesitation—

He tossed the heart into its depths.

And as soon as King Alexandria tossed the elf's heart into the abyssal Fissure, the very essence of the air changed.

The aura seeping out of the fissure twisted and contorted—becoming heavier, darker, suffocating.

A dreadful pressure expanded outward, crawling over every inch of the coliseum like unseen hands gripping at the throats of those present.

Castaneda, Marel, and General Cao—battle-hardened and strong as they were—felt their muscles tense involuntarily. Their bodies refused to move.

Meanwhile, Lila and the other students, still on the arena floor, struggled to breathe. Some clutched their chests as the invisible force pressed against them like an unrelenting tide, their vision swimming as their lungs fought for air.

Yet, amidst the overwhelming weight of the atmosphere, Castaneda forced himself to act.

With sheer willpower, he clenched his jaw and mustered the strength to speak, his voice neither humble nor arrogant—but firm.

"King Alexandria… what exactly are you doing?"

His words carried through the thickened air, reaching the king who stood before the growing abyss.

Chancellor Lockwood, who had just finished tending to Kent, lifted his gaze toward the monarch.

And in a rare show of solidarity, he stepped forward, supporting Castaneda's question.

"We deserve an explanation." Lockwood's voice was level, though there was a sharp edge to it.

But King Alexandria…

He didn't answer.

Instead, he turned to them slowly—his eerie grin still present, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

Then, in an almost whimsical manner, he muttered:

"Maybe… it's finally time to unveil the final processes."

And with that—

He raised his hand.

SNAP.

The sharp sound of his fingers clicking together rang like a thunderclap through the coliseum.

For a moment—nothing happened.

Then—

"GHAAA!!"

A sudden, monstrous killing intent exploded from the arena floor.

Kent—who had just regained consciousness under Lockwood's care—lunged at the Chancellor with terrifying speed. His eyes, once dazed and exhausted, now burned with an unnatural fury.

His very presence screamed one thing—Kill.

Lockwood barely had time to react.

His instincts took over. With a swift movement, he raised a barrier just as Kent's fist came crashing down toward him.

A deafening BOOM erupted as the impact shattered the floor beneath them. Lockwood's feet skidded backward from the sheer force, his expression blank with shock.

But the horror didn't end there.

From the other side of the arena—

"Castaneda!!" Marel shouted in alarm.

For Valir—who was in the treatment room where Kaelen and the others were—had done the exact same thing.

His body moved unnaturally fast, a blur of motion as he launched himself at Castaneda with an overwhelming bloodlust.

His blade was aimed straight for Castaneda's throat.

But—

CLANG!

With a swift block, Castaneda parried the blow with a short knife, sparks flying as their weapons clashed.

Yet his eyes—normally calm and focused—were filled with confusion.

For the briefest second—both Lockwood and Castaneda stood frozen.

Not because of the attacks—

But because of the look in Kent and Valir's eyes.

It wasn't rage. It wasn't hatred.

It was—

Empty.

Like puppets moving on unseen strings.

But Castenada and Lockwood didn't waste more time on that thought as they quickly suppressed them with their magic before hitting them viciously which made them to quickly go unconscious.

As soon as Valir and Kent fell unconscious, Lockwood and Castaneda wasted no time.

With precise, controlled movements, they both struck vital pressure points—ensuring that neither of the two would regain consciousness anytime soon.

Their bodies went limp, collapsing onto the cold arena floor.

But even as they lay motionless, unease gripped both chancellors.

Something was wrong.

They didn't feel unconscious.

They felt hollow.

Yet, Castaneda and Lockwood had no time to dwell on this.

Casting those unsettling thoughts aside, Castaneda turned toward the looming figure standing near the growing Fissure.

His solemn gaze bore into King Alexandria's ever-present, eerie smile.

"Enough games," Castaneda demanded, his voice firm, unwavering. "Tell us what you've done."

Lockwood stepped forward as well, his expression just as grim. "No more riddles, no more veiled words—what exactly is going on?"

For the first time in the entire convention, the coliseum was utterly silent.

Every remaining spectator who decided to see this to the end, every noble, every official—all of them held their breath.

And then—

The First Magi chuckled.

A slow, quiet laugh—one that sent a cold chill down the spine of anyone who heard it.

"Oh, Castaneda… Lockwood…" the First Magi spoke in a voice dripping with amusement. "Surely, you of all people should know..."

His gaze flickered to them, golden eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction.

"Those who are addicted to power—"

His smirk widened slightly.

"—will do anything to obtain it."

A beat of silence followed.

And then—

Castaneda and Lockwood's eyes widened in horror.

They understood.

They understood exactly what the First Magi meant.

They turned sharply to the two figures lying on the ground.

Kent.

Valir.

No—

Not Kent.

Not Valir.

What remained of them.

They were never unconscious.

They were used up.

They were—

Empty vessels.

"You—" Castaneda started, his voice low, furious.

But before he could finish—

King Alexandria sighed.

A slow, mockingly disappointed sigh.

"I suppose there's no point in keeping them now."

And then—

He raised his fingers.

SNAP.

The sharp sound echoed across the coliseum.

And in the next horrifying second—

Both Kent and Valir suddenly exploded into a bloody mist as it filled the air.

And in the next moment, the entire coliseum froze.

The splatter. The smell. The viscera.

Lila, Morris, and Ethan stood paralyzed in utter horror, unable to process what they had just witnessed.

Guinevere covered her mouth, eyes wide, bile rising in her throat.

Even the usually composed General Cao was struck speechless.

Marel visibly staggered.

And Castaneda—

For the first time in decades—

—felt a wave of pure, visceral dread crawl up his spine.

Because King Alexandria…

He was still smiling.

And the blood dripping down his regal robes…

He didn't even bother wiping it off.