Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

The Emberhart soldiers wasted no time, their faces contorted in anger as they activated their flame-based skills. Find exclusive stories on mvl

The air around them shimmered with heat as their weapons and bodies became engulfed in a blazing aura. The intense flames crackled, casting flickering shadows across their determined faces.

"Let's end this quickly!" one of the soldiers barked, his voice full of confidence, raising his flame-coated sword high. The others nodded, flames licking at their weapons as they prepared to strike. With a roar, they rushed toward Roxana, convinced that their combined strength would overwhelm her.

But Roxana merely smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Is that all you've got?" she said, her voice calm and taunting. There wasn't an ounce of fear in her expression, only boredom.

As the soldiers charged, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground, Roxana moved. Her body shifted gracefully, her movements fluid and almost leisurely as she dodged their strikes with ease. The flame-coated swords and axes swung past her, but it was as though she wasn't even there.

"Too slow," she murmured, sidestepping another wild slash.

The soldiers, growing frustrated, gritted their teeth. "Stand still, damn it!" one shouted, lunging at her with a flaming spear.

But Roxana's smile never wavered. "You're not even worth the effort," she whispered, before stepping forward, closing the gap in an instant.

Her hand shot out like a blur, her palm colliding with the man's chest with devastating force. The impact sent him flying backward, his weapon clattering to the ground as he crashed into the dirt, groaning in pain.

She didn't stop there.

With precise, calculated strikes, Roxana weaved through the group, delivering palm strikes to each soldier with minimal effort.

Her hands struck with the force of a hammer, yet her expression remained serene, almost detached. Each blow landed with a sickening thud, sending soldiers sprawling to the ground, their fiery auras flickering out as they collapsed, defeated.

"How... how is she so strong?" one of the soldiers gasped, clutching his chest as he struggled to stand.

Roxana glanced down at the fallen men, her expression indifferent. "You call yourselves warriors? Pathetic." Her voice was laced with disdain as she surveyed the half-defeated group.

In just a few short moments, most of the soldiers lay at her feet, groaning in pain or completely still from the force of her strikes.

The remaining Emberhart soldiers, enraged and humiliated by how easily their comrades had fallen, exchanged furious glances.

Their pride was shattered, and the anger in their eyes burned as fiercely as the flames they conjured. With gritted teeth and clenched fists, they activated their skills, the heat in the air intensifying.

"Enough of this!" one of the soldiers barked, flames surging around his hands. "Burn her alive!"

The others followed his lead, their hands glowing with fiery energy as they summoned massive fireballs. With lethal intent, they hurled the blazing orbs toward Roxana, determined to turn her to ash.

But Roxana's smirk only deepened, her expression filled with amusement rather than concern. "Really? Fire? You think that's going to stop me?" Her tone was playful, almost mocking, as if she found their desperation amusing.

As the fireballs streaked toward her, ready to incinerate anything in their path, Roxana moved casually.

With a fluid motion, she reached out and effortlessly caught one in her hand, the flames crackling harmlessly against her skin. She glanced at the fiery orb with mild interest, as if it were nothing more than a curious object.

The soldiers' eyes widened in disbelief. "What the—?!" one of them gasped, his voice trembling.

"Impossible...!" another muttered, his hands shaking as more flames flickered in his palms.

Roxana chuckled softly, her gaze cold. "You really need to try harder." With a flick of her wrist, she deflected the fireball, sending it crashing into the ground a few feet away, where it fizzled out uselessly.

Before the soldiers could react, Roxana was already moving. Her body blurred with speed, closing the distance between them in an instant. Their faces, once filled with fury, now contorted into expressions of terror as they realized they were powerless to stop her.

"No! Stay back!" one soldier shouted, fear creeping into his voice as he raised his weapon in a futile attempt to defend himself.

Roxana's eyes gleamed with cold determination. "Too late." Her voice was a deadly whisper as she struck, her hand slicing through the air with terrifying precision.

Her palm connected with a soldier's chest, the impact shattering his ribs with a sickening crack. He let out a strangled gasp as his body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Another soldier rushed at her from behind, sword raised, but she spun around, grabbing him by the throat with a swift motion.

"You're too weak," she said flatly, before squeezing. The sound of bones snapping filled the air, and the man's body went limp in her grasp. She tossed him aside like a ragdoll, her expression never changing.

The remaining soldiers screamed in panic, their fiery auras flaring up in desperation as they tried to shield themselves. But it was no use.

Roxana tore through them with terrifying ease, her hands ripping apart flesh and muscle as if they were made of paper. Each strike was brutal, and the once proud warriors could do nothing but scream as their bodies were ripped to shreds.

In the midst of the chaos, the young master stood frozen, his once smug grin now twisted into an expression of pure horror.

The confidence that had filled him moments ago was gone, replaced by a growing terror that gripped his chest like a vice. His soldiers—the ones he had boasted about, the men he believed to be invincible—were being slaughtered with terrifying ease.

He watched, wide-eyed, as Roxana continued her brutal assault, her gaze locking onto him with cold, predatory intent.

The young master's heart pounded in his chest. Fear surged through him, paralyzing his legs for a moment. But when he saw Roxana take a step toward him, the panic became overwhelming.

"No… no… this can't be happening," he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Without thinking, the young master turned to flee, his legs trembling uncontrollably as he stumbled over his own feet in his desperation to escape.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his thoughts a frantic blur. He could barely think, his only instinct now was to run—get as far away from that monster as possible.

But as he bolted, his body collided with something solid. The impact knocked him off balance, and he stumbled backward, landing hard on the ground. Pain shot up his spine, but that wasn't what terrified him.

His eyes darted upward, his heart skipping a beat as he realized what he had hit.

Standing before him was a boy, young and seemingly harmless. But the young master was the one trembling on the ground, his body shaking with fear.

Anger and humiliation flared in his chest. How dare this boy stand in his way? Didn't he know who he was?

"Move!" the young master shouted, his voice shaking with a mix of fear and desperation that he tried to mask with rage. "Get out of my way, or I'll—"

Before he could finish, the boy smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "You're still the same, I see," the boy said, his tone calm, almost amused.

The young master froze, his words catching in his throat. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His mind raced, trying to understand what was happening. There was something familiar about the boy, but before he could make sense of it, the boy moved.

In a blur, the boy delivered a swift, precise strike to the young master's chest. The impact was sudden, and the young master's eyes widened in shock. Pain radiated through his body, but his mind couldn't keep up with what was happening.

"What…?" he managed to whisper, but it was too late.

Darkness enveloped him, his vision fading as his body slumped to the ground. His consciousness slipped away, and the last thing he saw was the boy's smirk before everything went black.