The Slayer Ascension: Cursed and Blessed.-Chapter 65: Target Found (1)

Several years ago.

Ventusra City.

A thunderous explosion tore through the city as multiple buildings collapsed at once. Stone shattered. Steel screamed. The shockwaves of an ongoing battle ripped through the streets, reducing structures to rubble as if they were made of sand.

This was no ordinary fight.

The people of Ventusra had already been evacuated long before it began. The clash had crossed the boundary of mortal comprehension. It was a miniature war between beings that no longer belonged to the world of men.

Another explosion erupted.

The ground split apart.

From beneath the earth, a massive behemoth surged upward. Its body was an enormous mass of rock, jagged and uneven, fused with fragments of metal, debris, and unknown materials torn from the battlefield. Each piece embedded into it only made it stronger.

The creature stood tall.

Half human. Half fox.

Majestic in form, yet the violent trembling of its body betrayed the rage boiling inside.

Deep within that towering shell was a man.

An older man, around his thirties. One eye burned with infinite fury, red with unrestrained anger. The other was gone. Blood poured endlessly from the empty socket, streaking down his face and soaking into his golden blond hair.

Some of the blood was his.

Some was not.

He had fought for hours alongside his men.

Now, he was the only one left.

Several enemies lay dead, but the strongest among them still stood. They refused to fall.

The behemoth groaned.

The ground rumbled again.

A massive structure of vines rose from the shattered earth, coiling together into a cocoon. Slowly, it unfurled.

Two figures stepped out.

One was a beautiful woman in her early twenties. Long black hair framed her face, her green eyes sharp and cold despite the blood coating her body. She looked at the rock behemoth with open disdain.

Beside her stood a larger man, his upper body bare. A deep cut ran across the right side of his face, one of many scars etched into his flesh. He was drenched in blood, yet unlike most would be, he wore a wide, unsettling grin.

They did not look beaten.

They looked amused.

Inside the rocky shell, the blond man groaned as despair darkened his gaze.

They were still alive.

As if mocking him further, the ground shook violently once more. A massive slab of stone was thrown aside, and from it emerged a young petite girl, likely in her twenties as well.

She wielded two massive swords with ease.

Short black hair. One striking purple eye.

"Well, that was brutal," she said cheerfully. "Thankfully, I didn't get crushed."

"You would have been fine," a voice groaned beneath her. "I'm the one who got flattened."

"Huh."

She looked down.

She was standing directly on someone's neck.

"Oh. Sorry," she said casually, stepping off.

A golden haired man coughed violently, spitting dirt from his mouth as he forced himself up. "I'm fine," he said, stretching his aching limbs. "Still in one piece."

He glanced around.

"Speaking of which, where's Ashiro?"

The moment he said the name, a wave of danger slammed into the man inside the behemoth.

He turned sharply.

An attack grazed past him, missing a fatal blow by a breath.

Even so, nearly half of the rocky shell was obliterated.

A figure landed calmly atop the broken stone.

Dressed entirely in black.

White hair fluttered gently in the wind.

One hand rested inside his pocket.

Ashiro turned his gaze to Orion.

His eyes flashed with restrained anger. If that fool had not alerted the enemies, he was certain the battle would have ended with that strike.

Orion caught the look and simply shrugged.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know you were trying to catch him off guard?" he said easily. "Besides, where's the fun in fighting dirty?"

He flashed his brightest smile.

Orion was wrong.

The large man beside him spoke up, his tone neutral.

"There is honor in fighting clean," Gauth said. "We will win this battle fair and square."

The twitch in Mira's expression said everything. She disagreed completely.

Who in their right mind would call a fight between five silver Shurals and a gold Shural fair?

Only a maniac like Gauth.

"Stop shining around like children," the woman with the vine manipulation snapped, glaring at the trio. "We have almost died three times already because none of you can concentrate. If any of you die, it will not be on my shoulders."

"Actually," Orion said casually, "we almost died five times on this mission."

Gauth shrugged. "But we are still alive. That is good news."

He cracked his neck.

"Let's end this. I still have plans for my holidays."

Before anyone could respond, the land trembled violently.

The shattered remains of the rocky body began to move. Broken stone pulled itself together, reforming into the towering half man half fox behemoth once more.

"You five are truly annoying," the blond man growled, his gaze darkening as power surged through him.

"Underestimating you has cost me greatly."

His eyes flicked over the ruined city. The corpses. The silence.

"My clan is gone because of you," he continued. "But I promise this. None of you will leave here alive."

A massive battle axe formed in his hand, its edge pulsing with killing intent as he raised it high, ready to carve death into the five before him.

Ashiro remained calm.

As calm as he had been since the battle began.

"I have to disagree with that declaration," he said evenly. "If anyone is dying here today, it will be you."

He stepped forward, white hair flowing as he lifted into the air.

Then he spoke again, his voice steady and cold.

"No more holding back."

The air ripped apart.

Five daggers appeared, circling him as they radiated a sharp blue glow that sliced through the atmosphere itself.

Orion whistled.

"Well," he said, drawing his golden sword, "looks like Ashiro is finally serious." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The already suffocating air tightened further.

Mira raised her two massive blades, her purple eye glowing faintly. The others followed suit, every one of them ready.

This would be the final clash.

They collided without restraint.

The sky split. The aura shattered. The ground quaked as the battle roared forward. The might of a gold rank Shural tore through the battlefield, destruction pouring from his every movement.

But it was not enough.

Not against the five terrors.

Their title was not a joke. It was a name that carved fear into the hearts of those who stood against them.

Hours later, the battle ended.

The dust settled.

The blond man lay in a pool of his own blood.

He tried to rise. Failed. His limbs refused to move. His radiance core was completely drained. His aura had collapsed.

A gold rank Shural.

Defeated.

By silver Shurals.

His vision darkened as footsteps approached.

To be continued...

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