Chapter 147: Chapter 147: The Blue Flash
Chapter 147: The Blue Flash
The courtyard of Sector Four was a frozen graveyard of crimson diamond.
Reina stood in the center of her creation, leaning heavily on the handle of her High-density Ice Core Axe.
The terrifying exertion of the Blood Avalanche had drained her core completely. A thin trail of red blood dripped from her nose, freezing before it even hit the concrete.
From the dark alleyway leading to the main avenue, the shadows twisted. Three towering figures stepped out into the freezing courtyard.
They wore deep crimson robes. Their pale skin was covered in jagged black tattoos of the Eternal Eclipse. They were Level 145 Cult Blood-Priests.
"The Fire Mage failed," the lead Priest hissed, his eyes scanning the frozen Null-Fiends and the perfectly encased ice sculpture of his comrade.
"A pathetic display. We will shatter this frozen filth and unleash the beasts ourselves."
The three Priests raised their hands. Their dark mana cores flared to life, dripping with corrupted blood magic.
Reina tightened her grip on her axe, preparing to push past her limits once again.
A gloved hand gently touched her shoulder.
"Rest up, Winter Valkyrie," Lucien said smoothly.
"The stage is already set."
Lucien walked past the exhausted Ice Mage. He stepped directly onto the hyper-dense, crimson-tinted glacier covering the courtyard.
He drew his Thunder Rapier. The sleek, highly conductive blade hummed eagerly in the freezing air.
Lucien closed his eyes. The ambient noise of the burning city faded away.
In the silence of his own mind, the executioner heard the cold, commanding voice of his Captain.
"Never confuse haste with speed," Draven had told him during a brutal sparring session in the Wildlands.
Lucien had been frustrated that day. He had tried to overwhelm Draven with pure velocity, only to end up face down in the dirt, completely outmaneuvered by a man who barely took two steps.
"Haste is born from fear," Draven had lectured, pacing around Lucien’s fallen body. "Speed is born from mastery."
Lucien took a slow, deep breath, regulating his surging heartbeat.
"Without precision, your movements become meaningless," Draven’s voice echoed in his memory.
"Without control, your power becomes dangerous only to yourself. So remember this."
The memory sharpened, focusing entirely on Draven’s piercing gaze.
"Speed without precision is merely rushing toward your own grave."
Lucien opened his eyes. The blue irises sparked with intense, undeniable focus. He was not a mindless hammer. He was the Warlord’s scalpel.
Lucien channeled his mana core. He did not let the lightning explode outward into a chaotic storm. Instead, he forced the volatile blue electricity deep into his own nervous system, supercharging his physical reflexes far beyond mortal limits.
Then, he let the excess lightning bleed through his boots directly into the crimson ice.
The hyper-dense ice created from Reina’s blood and mana was a flawless conductor. Instantly, a massive, interconnected web of blue electricity lit up the entire frozen courtyard. The glacier became a giant circuit board, and Lucien was the living current.
The three Cult Blood-Priests sensed the terrifying spike in mana.
"Kill him!" the lead Priest roared.
[Blue Flash: Thunderclap Step.]
A deafening crack of thunder shattered the quiet courtyard.
Lucien vanished.
He did not run. He became a literal streak of blinding blue light. He utilized the conductive ice spikes covering the battlefield to bounce around the courtyard in a violent, unpredictable zigzag pattern.
To the Cult Priests, the world seemed to freeze. Their eyes could not even track his movements. They saw a flash of blue on the left wall, then a spark on the right, followed by the deafening roar of displaced air.
The lead Priest frantically tried to track the anomaly.
A sharp whisper tickled his ear.
"Too slow."
Lucien materialized completely behind the lead Priest. Without wasting a single fraction of a second, Lucien thrust his weapon forward.
[Lightning Art: Volt Sting.]
The Thunder Rapier pierced cleanly through the Priest’s spine and out through his chest, obliterating his heart. The intense voltage instantly fried the Cultist’s nervous system, preventing him from uttering a single scream.
Lucien ripped the blade free. He did not stop his momentum. He planted his boot against the dead man’s back, channeling his lightning into the ice beneath him.
CRACK!
Lucien launched himself diagonally across the courtyard. He bounced off a massive pillar of crimson ice, redirecting his trajectory entirely. He shot toward the second Priest like a ricocheting bullet.
The second Priest barely had time to turn his head. A horizontal streak of blue light zipped past his throat.
Lucien landed gracefully on the top of a frozen Null-Fiend twenty yards away.
Behind him, the second Priest’s head slid cleanly off his shoulders, his neck cauterized by the super-heated electrical strike.
Two Level 145 elites were dead in less than two seconds.
The third Blood-Priest panicked. Pure, unadulterated fear flooded his corrupted mind. He realized he was not fighting a human. He was fighting a natural disaster.
The Priest slammed his hands together, burning his own life force to cast his ultimate defensive spell.
"Blood Aegis!" the Priest screamed.
Thick, foul-smelling black blood erupted from the Priest’s pores. The liquid rapidly expanded and hardened, forming a spherical, highly condensed shield of coagulated blood around his body.
The barrier was incredibly thick, designed to withstand the explosive force of a Vanguard artillery strike.
Lucien stood on top of the frozen beast, watching the Priest cower inside his dark sphere.
The executioner tilted his head. Draven’s words rang clear in his mind.
Speed is born from mastery.
Lucien narrowed his eyes, focusing his enhanced vision on the defensive barrier. The coagulated blood shield was strong, but it was cast in a state of sheer panic. It was a product of haste. And haste always left imperfections.
Lucien spotted it. Near the bottom left curve of the sphere, two streams of hardened blood had failed to overlap perfectly. It was a microscopic gap, no thicker than a single coin.
It was all the executioner needed.
Lucien disappeared from the top of the frozen beast.
CRACK!
A final bolt of blue lightning arced across the courtyard. Lucien shot directly toward the Blood-Priest.
He did not try to shatter the massive shield with brute force. He extended his Thunder Rapier, aligning the sleek, conductive blade with terrifying mathematical precision.
The needle-thin tip of the rapier slid perfectly through the microscopic gap in the coagulated blood.
The blade pierced through the barrier, striking the Priest directly through the eye and burying itself deep into his brain.
Lucien stopped moving. The blinding blue light faded from the courtyard.
The executioner stood perfectly still, his arm fully extended, his rapier lodged through the tiny crack in the massive shield.
The heavy sphere of coagulated blood instantly lost its magical anchor. The dark barrier dissolved into a puddle of foul liquid on the concrete floor.
Lucien smoothly retracted his weapon. He flicked his wrist, shaking the corrupted blood off the silver steel.
With a soft, metallic click, Lucien sheathed the Thunder Rapier at his side.
Exactly one second later, the three Cult Blood-Priests collapsed heavily onto the frozen ground, completely devoid of life.
The Vanguard Knights huddled near the hospital tents stared at the young swordsman in pure terror and awe. The entire engagement had lasted less than five seconds. A fight that would have cost the lives of an entire Vanguard Platoon was finished before they could even draw their swords.
Lucien walked calmly back across the ice, stopping beside Reina.
"Sector Four is secure," Lucien reported with a confident smirk.
Reina looked at the fallen Cultists, a slight smile forming on her pale lips.
"Show-off," Reina muttered, though her voice carried a tone of deep respect.
High above them, standing on the balcony of the command center, Draven Mordis looked down at the medical district. He felt the three Cult signatures vanish from the board.
Beneath his featureless white mask, Draven allowed himself a brief nod of approval. His training had forged a team of undeniable monsters.
The ground and the hospital were safe. Now, it was time to secure the sky.
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