Chapter 41: Mythic Dragon’s Eye - 2
There’s something uncomfortable about watching a massacre unfold in silence. No screams. No desperate pleas. Just the sound of grass being crushed under boots, armor clinking together, and flesh being torn apart like paper. I stood there, in the shadows of the manor’s backyard, trying not to blink, not to look away. But it was impossible not to look. The way Herald moved—it didn’t feel real.
Lord Sapphire, however, quickly recovered from his initial shock of seeing his guards completely overwhelmed. His face, which had been a mask of disbelief, hardened into a grim of fury. The sight of his elite guards, crumpled and broken on the ground, fueled his rage. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now fill with desperation.
He raised his arm, a decisive gesture. "Guards! To arms! All of you! Surround him! Do not let this man leave this manor alive!" His voice, though strained, carried the full weight of his authority.
From every corner of the manor, from passages and distant guard posts, more waves of guards emerged. They poured into the courtyard, a seemingly endless stream of armed men, their numbers easily tripling the initial force. They were clad in various forms of armor, from light leather to gleaming plate, armed with swords, spears, and crossbows. They spread out, forming a vast, encircling net, their faces grim, their movements determined. They had seen the fallen, they knew the danger, but they still charged on.
Herald watched them come, his expression unchanging. A faint, almost imperceptible hum emanated from Herald, a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through the very ground beneath my feet. His lips curved into a grim, almost weary smile.
"Very well," Herald murmured, his voice barely audible over the growing clamor of the approaching guards. "If you insist on wasting more lives. I had hoped for this to not be a bloodshed. But it seems some lessons can’t be taught without the shed of blood." His gaze, cold and unwavering, swept over the approaching ranks. "I suppose it’s time to get serious."
He moved.
It wasn’t a charge, not in the traditional sense. It was a fluid, almost ethereal glide. He became a dark blur, a phantom amidst the mass of guards. The Mythic Dragon’s Eye, wasn’t even open, this was just his raw strength and speed in action, a testament to the strength described in the novel.
The first line of guards, armed with spears, lunged forward, their weapons aimed at his chest. Herald didn’t parry. He didn’t dodge. He simply moved and slowly opened his left eye and then, the air around the spear tips shimmered, then distorted, and the spears themselves, along with the arms that wielded them, compressed inwards with a sickening whoosh, leaving behind only faint indentations in the ground.
The guards, along with their weapons, vanished into nothingness, erased by the invisible, crushing force. No screams. No struggle. Just instantaneous, horrifying annihilation.
The remaining guards, witnessing the impossible, faltered. Their advance stalled, their faces paling with terror. But Herald gave them no quarter.
He was a whirlwind of controlled destruction. His movements were impossibly fast, faster than the eye could follow. He didn’t waste a single motion. He didn’t fight; he simply eliminated.