Chapter 223: Hazy Mind
Rafe moved like a shadow slipping between cracks in the battlefield.
His presence was barely noticeable until it was already too late.
His daggers flashed in tight and efficient arcs as he cut down Michael’s men one after another with clean and deliberate motions that showed no hesitation.
These were people who had fought beside him not long ago, people who had trusted him in the middle of battle and their daily lives, yet none of that reflected in his actions as his blades sank into their bodies with the same cold precision he used against any enemy.
One of them turned just in time to see him and his eyes widened in disbelief as recognition struck him.
"Rafe... what are you doing?!" his voice broke in confusion and shock as he staggered back.
But Rafe only smiled in response, a calm and almost amused expression that didn’t match the blood staining his hands.
Another one of them rushed forward in anger, shouting his name, demanding an answer, cursing. But the words never finished as Rafe stepped in and drove his dagger straight into the man’s throat before pulling it free in a smooth motion. It ended the question permanently.
He didn’t slow down and didn’t look back. He simply kept moving and kept killing.
The realization spread quickly among the remaining members of Michael’s troop as more of them noticed what was happening.
Shock turned into panic as voices began to rise in confusion and fear, calling out warnings that came too late for those already dead.
Their formation started to break when their doubts crept into their movements and the pressure they had been holding began to collapse under the sudden betrayal.
They were already fewer in number compared to Red’s forces and now that gap widened even further as their own ally killed them from within.
Red’s troops didn’t miss that opening. They surged forward with renewed aggression, pressing harder against the crumbling frontline as the balance of the battlefield shifted again in their favor.
At the center, Michael finally heard it.
The distant shouts and the panic in his troop’s voices cut through the haze of rage that had consumed him, forcing his focus to waver for the first time.
His head lifted slightly and his burning gaze moved away from Red as the noise pulled his attention.
Then he saw Rafe moving.
The image burned into his vision as one of his own men fell under Rafe’s blade, the betrayal clear and undeniable.
Shock hit him instantly. It cut through the rage that had filled his mind as a far colder and sharper emotion replaced it for a moment.
His grip on the spear faltered as that realization took hold. The overwhelming fire that had been pouring into Red weakened as his focus broke.
That moment was enough.
Red’s eyes snapped open wider as he felt the shift immediately.
The pressure pinning him down loosened just enough for him to react.
His body surged with violent force as his blood aura erupted in a sudden explosion that clashed directly against the weakening flames.
The ground beneath him shattered further as he forced his body to move despite the damage. His muscles screaming under the strain as he tore himself free from the spear that had pinned him.
The weapon dragged through his flesh as he broke away, sending another burst of blood into the air. But he didn’t stop there.
He rolled to the side and pushed himself up in the same motion, his body unsteady for only a second before he stabilized.
His chest heaved as blood continued to pour from the wound. But his grin slowly began to return, faint at first and then growing wider as he looked back at Michael.
The opportunity had been taken by him again now.
His face twisted violently as the last trace of that earlier grin disappeared, replaced by a far more raw and unstable expression of anger and humiliation after being forced into such a state.
His lips pulled back as a snarl tore free from his throat, and then it escalated into a scream filled with unfiltered rage that cut through the battlefield as his voice shook with the intensity of it.
"I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
The words came out jagged and broken, carrying everything he felt in that moment as his hot blood aura flared again around his body.
Michael finally looked back at him after stumbling slightly, his body still standing over the broken ground but no longer steady like before.
His eyes flickered as his mind split between two directions, one locked onto Red in front of him and the other dragged toward the distant chaos where his own people were dying.
The voices of panic still echoed in his ears, and that hesitation spread through him at the worst possible time.
It slowed his reaction and disrupted his focus, leaving him caught in a moment where he failed to act instead.
Red didn’t waste that opening. His burned and damaged body began to heal at a visible rate as flesh closed and blood hardened under the influence of his power.
The process didn’t fully heal him yet, but it was enough to bring back his ability to fight without restraint.
His eyes locked onto Michael with killing intent that no longer held any trace of curiosity or amusement.
"I’ll kill you... and everything around you!" Red said, his voice lower now but filled with absolute certainty as he pushed forward.
He charged.
The distance between them vanished almost instantly as Red closed in with explosive speed. His short sword already cut through the air toward Michael before the latter could fully recover his stance.
Michael reacted on instinct. He raised his spear to block, but the movement was slower than before and the impact hit harder than he expected.
Steel collided with a sharp crack that sent force through his arms, pushing him back as his footing faltered slightly.
Red didn’t stop there. Another strike came immediately, then another, each one faster and more aggressive than the last as he pressed forward without pause.
Michael could only block.
His mind remained hazy, the rage that had once fueled him now fading and weakening the power he had drawn from it.
The dark flames around his spear dimmed, shrinking and losing the overwhelming intensity they had moments ago.
Without that power, his defense dropped, and the difference became clear with every clash.
Red’s attacks grew heavier and forced Michael further back as his arms absorbed the impact again and again.
The pressure building without giving him any space to recover or counter.
His stance broke little by little as his balance slipped under the continuous assault.
Then it happened.
A heavy slash came from the side, faster than the previous ones, and Michael failed to fully align his defense in time.
The impact struck his weapon at a difficult angle and knocked it aside to open his center.
Red stepped in immediately and followed with another strike that slammed directly into him.
The force hit his body and drove him backward.
His feet lost their grip against the ground as he was forced down. Michael collapsed under the pressure as he hit the surface hard.
The impact sent cracks spreading beneath him as dust and debris lifted into the air around his fallen form.
Red stood above him once again.
But this time, the position had reversed.
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