The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 174

His sword hummed in hunger, storing the stolen pain and heat within its cursed steel.

Kael didn’t hesitate. With a vicious roar, he counterattacked, lunging forward, his blade slashing in a brutal diagonal arc. The stored energy from Maledict Counter unleashed all at once — a shockwave of blackened force exploded outward, amplifying the slash until it roared like a cannon blast.

Mira barely managed to leap back. The shockwave grazed her side, sending her skidding across the cracked ground, boots carving trenches in the dirt.

But Mira wasn’t just strong — she was relentless.

Snarling, she spun and unleashed a rain of fire missiles, each one screaming through the air with burning fury.

Kael ducked behind a rusted container, grunting as explosions peppered the area. One missile clipped the edge, sending shards of burning metal spraying across his back.

He hissed in pain but pressed his hand to his blade again, muttering under his breath. Dark magic crackled from his fingertips, and he cast Hexbrand.

A thin, almost invisible glyph blinked into existence on Mira’s back — a brand of creeping misfortune.

Mira didn’t notice it immediately, but Kael smirked through the blood on his lips.

The longer this goes... the more you’ll screw yourself.

And indeed — Mira’s next move, a sharp high kick laced with flame, missed Kael’s face by an inch, when before she would have hit dead-on.

A small stumble followed. Her balance, for a split-second, was off.

Kael’s blade flashed, grazing her hip with a shallow cut.

A snarl ripped from Mira’s throat as she whipped around, fire breathing both arms, launching a twin barrage of spells — one low, one high. The ground under Kael’s feet turned molten. Flames screamed around him.

But Kael fought smarter, not harder.

He absorbed one attack partially with Maledict Counter, twisting his body in a brutal, wild tumble to avoid the second.

As they clashed again, steel meeting raw magic, Kael’s eyes flickered sideways —

—and saw the soldiers on the edge of the docks.

Rows of armed men, rifles gleaming in the moonlight, all pointing towards him.

But none of them fired.

Kael’s mind raced.

’They aren’t shooting me because of this woman... probably afraid to hit her by mistake.’

Opportunity flickered through his pain-drenched mind like lightning.

He gritted his teeth, deliberately feinting a heavy strike, letting Mira push him back, dancing step by step toward the docks’ periphery.

Each blow he absorbed carefully. Each dodge dragged them closer to the edge.

Mira, intent on finishing him, followed without a second thought.

Kael grinned savagely through blood-stained teeth.

The moment they reached the thin iron bridge leading to the shipyard — he acted.

Summoning all the mana he could gather in his bruised core, Kael blasted it outward in a concentrated shockwave.

BOOM!

The force exploded between them, like a cannon going off.

Mira staggered back, her hair and cloak whipping wildly, eyes widening as the sheer raw blast pushed her off balance.

Kael didn’t waste the moment.

Spinning around with reckless abandon, he dashed up the bridge, turning only once at the crest to face her.

His hand shot up in a lazy, mocking salute.

"That was a good fight," Kael called out, voice dripping with exhaustion and adrenaline, "but I’ve got places to be — and you’re not on the list."

He grinned a bit before jumping into the seas.

"DAMMNNN;"

Behind him, Mira roared something incoherent, but it was drowned under the sudden thunder of gunfire.

The soldiers, realizing their window to kill him was shrinking, opened fire.

Rifles cracked. Muzzle flashes lit the mist. Bullets hissed and churned the water where he had vanished.

But Kael was already gone, disappearing beneath the surface like a phantom.

Only blood and broken ripples remained.

The gunfire slowly petered out into an uneasy silence, the sharp stench of smoke and gunpowder hanging heavy in the night air.

The ocean, dark and endless, swallowed all signs of the madman who had just plunged into it.

Mira stood at the edge of the battered dock, the wind tugging at her cloak, her red hair streaming like a bloody banner behind her.

Her expression was blank — not anger, not frustration — just a deadly, chilling calm.

Her reddish eyes, like twin embers, scanned the broken bridge and the boiling sea without blinking.

Footsteps approached from behind, boots clattering on wood.

A squad of soldiers, clad in black tactical gear, formed a loose circle around her, waiting nervously.

One of them, clearly the senior among them, stepped forward and saluted stiffly.

"What are your orders, Lady Mira?"

Mira exhaled slowly through her nose, her gaze never leaving the waves.

Then, after a beat, she spoke, voice cutting through the night like a cold blade.

"Start searching the water," she ordered, each word slow and deliberate.

"Deploy all available ships in the sector. Net patrols. Diver squads. Night vision sweeps."

She turned slightly, just enough for them to catch the edge of her glare.

"I want him found by morning."

Her fingers curled into a slow fist at her side.

"Dead or alive — it doesn’t matter. Bring me his body if you have to. But he comes back to me."

The soldiers stiffened at the raw finality in her tone. No one dared question it.

"Understood!"

They barked as one and scattered like shadows, moving with sudden, desperate energy, shouting into radios, flashing signals across the piers.

A tall officer remained by Mira’s side, hesitating before he spoke.

"Lady Mira..." he began carefully. "Did you perhaps... catch any information about the target? An identity, maybe?"

Mira didn’t respond immediately.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, drifting to the side as if trying to capture the fleeting image of the man she fought.

For a moment, the world seemed to still.

Then, slowly, with a flick of her wrist, she reached into her coat and pulled out a slim, battered cigar.

With a small click of her fingers — a tiny burst of fire magic — she lit the tip, the ember glowing to life in the gloom.

She took a long drag, exhaling a thin plume of smoke into the salty air.

When she spoke, her voice was lower, almost musing.

"Grey, cold eyes," she murmured, as if tasting the memory.

"Eyes filled with madness... rage... something primal."

Another drag, the tip of the cigar burning bright.

"And hair..." Mira’s lips twisted into a faint, sardonic smile.

"Greyish white... almost silver under the moonlight looking like grey wolf.’’

She paused, tilting her head slightly, a gleam of cruel amusement flickering in her blood-red eyes.

"Quite the charming little devil."

The officer swallowed, unnerved by the way she said it — as if she was describing a particularly interesting piece of prey rather than a man.

"We’ll set up checkpoints across the coastline," he said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation.

"No one’s escaping tonight."

Mira didn’t answer immediately. She turned her gaze back to the ocean, her expression shadowed.

In the distance, spotlights blazed to life, cutting across the dark water.

Motorboats roared into action, their engines snarling as they sliced through the waves.

Teams of divers plunged into the freezing depths, black shapes disappearing one after another into the abyss.

The hunt had begun.

Mira took one last drag of the cigar and then flicked it away, the ember trailing a brief arc through the air before dying in the darkness.

Under her breath, too low for anyone to hear, she whispered:

"You’re not getting away, Grey Wolf... no matter how far you run."