The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 90: Attack!

Since the day Lucien disappeared, the thought that he was likely behind Kallen’s disappearance as well, had haunted her mind.

And after telling them that Lucien was missing, everyone most likely suspected him now.

Didn’t that mean she had been nothing more than a pawn all along? Worse than that, she was the blade used to wound her own family?

"Are you done?" Marcus’s indifferent voice cut through her thoughts. "Your actions now don’t exactly disprove my claim."

She looked up slightly, her eyes meeting his crimson ones, cold and apathetic.

Though she was tall for a woman... with long, graceful legs, Marcus still stood more than a head taller.

Her body trembled. Was he right? What if Lucien actually had infiltrated her mental defenses without telling her. A man like Lucien would never admit to such a thing. Infact, who would ever confess to poisoning someone’s Will to enslave their minds?

"Still missing the point. Tch." Marcus clicked his tongue and slapped her hand away.

The ring on his finger shimmered for a split second. He retrieved a bottle, uncorked it, took a gulp, then tossed it back into the space within the ring.

Karrie’s eyes quivered at his words, finally seeming to understand what he had been driving towards from the very beginning.

"Let us in," came a voice from the orb at the center of the control room, interrupting them.

Without sparing her a glance, Marcus punched a command into the controls, and the ship slowed down.

From the rear, its hangar bay opened, allowing a smaller vessel to glide in before sealing shut once more.

Karrie took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Her mind replayed the recent confrontation, a strange sense of gratitude blooming in her chest.

The command room doors slid open, and Silas walked in with urgency, Eudora pacing in behind him.

"Begin the attack. They’ve already spotted us," he ordered crisply.

Fortunately for them, unlike Crimson City, which lay deep within Xenith, the massive citadel ahead wasn’t buried as far into Valgorian territory. For the Valgorians, height seemed to matter more than depth when it came to the placement of their strongholds.

Silas’s gaze shifted to Karrie—and he paused. Eudora, too, had a strange expression as she looked at her.

"What is it?" Karrie asked, frowning.

Eudora looked away, as if washing her hands of whatever was coming.

Silas, however, lacked such restraint. "You’ve changed. More like... you’ve come back to your senses. I was beginning to think Lucien had enslaved your mind."

A flash of anger burned in Karrie’s eyes, and she snickered. "He didn’t—and can’t—influence my Will."

Silas kept staring at her, as though analyzing a specimen.

"I’ll rip your eyes out," she said coldly, her crimson irises gleaming with threat.

Ignoring the warning, his gaze dropped, trailing down her figure—until it landed on the fresh blood staining her ample chest. His brows rose in surprise.

Karrie growled at his lingering stare, but Silas only nodded in apparent approval, finally finding what he was looking for.

Eudora promptly smacked the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward.

"What was that for?" he asked, raising a brow at her.

She harrumphed, refusing to dignify the question with a response.

"I’m glad you’ve come around," she said to Karrie instead.

Karrie gave a small nod, still glaring icily at Silas. Under normal circumstances, she might’ve found his stare bold and even flirtatious—she was the playful type, after all. But not today. Not now.

Seemingly unaware of—or indifferent to—what he had done, Silas turned toward Marcus, who was also watching him with a strange expression.

His gaze dropped to Marcus’s chest and shirt, torn and stained with fresh blood. On the floor at his feet, a small pool of it confirmed what had transpired.

Silas took in the scene, connecting the dots. He nodded once.

"We’re wasting time. Give the command," he said, his voice suddenly cold.

Marcus spared him a brief glance, then turned back to the controls. The ship began powering up its cannons, emerging from stealth.

Following the lead of the command vessel, the other ships also revealed themselves—signaling the start of the attack.

Karrie walked over until she stood beside Marcus, gazing at the 360-degree display of their surroundings. Far below, the Valgorians appeared like tiny dots, pointing up at the skies.

"Thank you," she muttered, low enough that only Marcus could hear.

He smiled wryly. "That hurt, though," he said, rubbing his chest.

Down below, the Valgorians stared grimly at the skies. Those strong enough, ranging from the Third to Fourth Ascension, rose into the air by any means available.

Some used hoverboards. Others summoned flying mounts. A few relied solely on skills or mystique techniques.

---

Thalos was still listening to the man kneeling before him, reporting the possible presence of a Crimson aircraft in the region, one they hadn’t yet been able to detect.

Thalos frowned at the words.

Suddenly, he felt a ripple in the atmosphere. Feeling the threat, his heart skipped a beat.

"Intercept them now!!" he roared.

But it was already too late.

A blinding beam of light tore through the sky, its trajectory unyielding as it raced toward the massive citadel.

The dome that once shielded their lands from the wrath of the heavens flickered briefly, then ripped apart like wet paper.

Many of those airborne, caught in the path of the beam, were completely disintegrated.

BOOM!!!

For several seconds, the world turned white.

The ground trembled. The heavens roared.

With their dome shattered, lightning bolts rained down with merciless fury, striking with vengeful precision. Many who had barely survived the beam were obliterated where they hovered—or where they stood.

Some bolts struck the Crimson ships above. But apart from minor tremors on the smallest vessels, the attacks barely left a mark.

All at once, the Crimson fleet attacked.

Their ships opened fire, sweeping the skies and earth below. Lives were harvested with ruthless efficiency, while enemy fliers were shot down mid-air.

Inside the command ship, Silas suddenly pointed to a specific location—one swarming with the guards who had once treated him with hostility during his time in the citadel.

The cannon rotated, locked on target, and fired.

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A thunderous explosion ripped through the area, followed by a chain of successive detonations that devoured everything in their path.

"CRIMSONS!!!" a voice bellowed from the ground, booming with suffocating rage and primal fury.

A cold smile played at the corners of Silas’ lips.

This was what he wanted, and everything was going according to plan.

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