Chapter 73: Devouring the Fallen
Chapter 73: Devouring the Fallen
The battlefield fell silent.
Smoke drifted lazily through the ruined street as Andras calmly retrieved his ebony pipe. He took another measured draw before turning his attention to the System.
"System."
"Devour their talents."
A familiar mechanical voice echoed within his mind.
[Ding!]
[Beginning Devouring...]
[Devouring Talents...]
[Devouring Complete.]
[The Host has acquired the talent: Silent Fang (C+ Rank).]
[The Host has acquired the talent: Steel Body (C+ Rank).]
A faint smile appeared on Andras’s face.
Without another thought, he dismissed the translucent screen.
His gaze slowly shifted to the only assassin still standing.
Kael Voss.
The mage’s breathing had become uneven.
Both of his companions lay defeated.
The intelligence report they had received had been disastrously wrong.
The young noble standing before him wasn’t merely talented.
He was a monster disguised as a young man.
For a fleeting instant, Kael considered fleeing.
If he escaped, he could report everything that had happened.
House Darkmoor had hidden the true strength of its heir.
The information had to reach his employer.
Then reality returned.
Failure meant death.
Whether he escaped or not, his fate had already been decided.
His only chance...
Was to kill Andras Darkmoor.
Dark mana surged around him as his killing intent intensified.
The shadows surrounding the ruined street grew darker.
Andras quietly watched him before exhaling another stream of fragrant smoke.
"Oh?"
"I thought you would run."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"It seems you’ve chosen the more difficult path."
He lowered his pipe.
"Very well."
"Let’s continue."
---
Kael moved first.
The shadows beneath Andras’s feet suddenly twisted into dark tendrils, attempting to restrict his movement.
At the same moment, several shadow spears formed around the mage, launching toward him from different angles.
Unlike before, Kael no longer relied on raw power.
He fought with patience.
Every spell forced Andras to move exactly where Kael wanted him.
Andras’s violet eyes narrowed slightly.
A trap...
Echo Resonance spread outward once again.
The flow of mana.
The movement of the shadows.
Even Kael’s breathing became perfectly clear.
Rather than retreating, Andras stepped directly into the narrow gap between the incoming attacks.
The first spear passed harmlessly by.
The second grazed his sleeve.
The third nicked his shoulder, leaving a shallow cut before embedding itself into a nearby wall.
A thin line of blood stained his clothes.
Kael’s eyes flashed.
He had finally landed a hit.
Without hesitation, he unleashed another barrage of shadow magic, refusing to give Andras even a moment to recover.
The battlefield became a contest of prediction.
Kael constantly changed the angle and timing of every spell, attempting to overwhelm Echo Resonance through sheer complexity.
Andras answered with precise movements.
Neither wasted mana.
Neither allowed emotion to cloud judgment.
Every exchange became a battle of intelligence as much as strength.
Kael abruptly dispersed his Shadow Veil.
For a heartbeat, the battlefield brightened.
Then dozens of illusionary shadows appeared around Andras, each releasing identical waves of mana.
Every copy seemed real.
Even Echo Resonance required a brief instant to distinguish the genuine attack.
That single instant was all Kael needed.
A blade of condensed shadow swept toward Andras.
He twisted at the last possible moment.
The attack narrowly missed his heart but carved a shallow wound across his side.
Kael’s expression brightened.
"So you can bleed."
Andras glanced at the torn fabric before looking back at him.
A calm smile returned to his face.
"I suppose I can."
He casually brushed the dust from his sleeve.
"Congratulations."
"You’ve exceeded my expectations."
For the first time since the battle had begun...
Andras stopped holding back.
Primal Tyrant Physique surged through every muscle in his body.
At the same time, Echo Resonance expanded to its limit.
Kael’s expression changed.
The pressure surrounding Andras rose dramatically.
Before he could cast another spell—
Andras vanished.
Kael’s instincts screamed.
He immediately erected three layers of shadow barriers.
The first shattered.
The second cracked.
The third held for only a heartbeat before collapsing.
Andras appeared directly before him.
Kael barely managed to block with a blade of condensed mana.
The impact hurled him backwards across the broken street.
He rolled to his feet and immediately retreated, creating more distance while launching another series of spells.
Andras advanced relentlessly.
Every spell was broken apart before it could slow him.
The distance between them shrank with terrifying speed.
Kael knew he had only one opportunity left.
Gathering every remaining strand of mana, he condensed it into a single spear of compressed darkness.
With a shout, he launched it.
The projectile screamed through the air.
Andras stepped aside just enough for it to miss.
In the same motion, he closed the final distance.
Their weapons clashed once.
Twice.
A third time.
Kael desperately tried to retreat.
He was too late.
A flash of steel crossed the battlefield.
Kael cried out as his weapon fell from his grasp, followed moments later by one of his arms.
He staggered backwards before collapsing to one knee, his face pale with shock.
His remaining hand trembled violently.
The battle was over.
---
The sound of galloping horses echoed from the end of the street.
A squad of Darkmoor knights rushed into the abandoned district, weapons already drawn.
Their captain’s eyes widened at the sight before him.
Two assassins lay motionless upon the ground.
The third knelt defeated before Andras.
Nearby, Lyra leaned against a stone wall, still wounded.
The captain immediately bowed.
"Young Master!"
"We’re terribly sorry."
"We arrived as quickly as we could."
Andras calmly returned his pipe to his coat.
"You were late."
Shame crossed every knight’s face.
"Our apologies, Young Master."
Meanwhile, Kael slowly lowered his head.
His mission had failed.
Capture meant interrogation.
Interrogation meant betraying his employer.
There was only one escape.
His remaining hand moved subtly toward the concealed poison hidden beneath his sleeve.
Before he could act—
Andras appeared beside him.
"I wouldn’t do that."
A precise strike landed against the side of Kael’s neck.
The assassin’s vision blurred.
His body swayed before he collapsed unconscious onto the broken street.
Andras looked toward the captain.
"Take him alive."
"I want answers."
"Yes, Young Master."
Several knights immediately secured the unconscious assassin while others gathered the bodies of the fallen attackers.
Only after everything had been brought under control did Andras turn toward Lyra.
She remained where she had fallen earlier.
Her maid’s uniform was stained with blood.
The throwing knife still remained lodged in her shoulder.
Despite the pain, she had never once taken her eyes off him during the battle.
The moment Andras approached, relief finally appeared in her trembling eyes.