Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Roxana stood at the edge of the burning village, her posture relaxed, the faintest glint of amusement in her eyes as she sensed the auras drawing closer.

The power radiating toward them was unmistakable, carrying the rage and vengeance that only came from a family whose pride had been wounded.

The Emberhart family.

Her lips curved into a small smile as anticipation curled within her. "They're coming," she murmured to herself, as if the wait itself was a game she enjoyed.

Moments later, Lucas joined her, his movements as unhurried as his demeanor. A smirk tugged at his lips as he stood beside her, his hands casually resting at his sides.

Roxana tilted her head toward him, a playful glint in her eyes. "So, is your business with the young master finished?" she asked, her tone light, though it carried a dark undercurrent of amusement, as if knowing exactly what had transpired.

Lucas chuckled softly, his smirk widening. "Finished," he replied with satisfaction. His eyes flicked toward the horizon, where the approaching group of figures was now visible, closing in fast. "And it looks like the rest of the party has finally arrived."

The tension in the air thickened, charged with the fury of the approaching figures. Soon enough, the patriarch of the Emberhart family appeared, flanked by two elders, both radiating power and menace. Their steps were firm, eyes filled with deadly intent as they took in the scene before them.

But the moment the patriarch's gaze settled on Lucas and Roxana, he hesitated. He could feel it—the overwhelming strength of the two before him, an aura of power that could rival his own. His eyes narrowed, but his composure remained rigid.

The patriarch of the Emberhart family stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with a cold, dangerous glint. His voice, icy and sharp as a blade, cut through the air. "Are you the ones who dared harm my son?"

Lucas met the patriarch's gaze without a hint of hesitation, the smirk on his face growing wider, as if the question itself amused him. He shrugged, his voice casual and teasing. "Your son?" he echoed, his tone light, almost dismissive, like a teacher humoring a foolish student.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes dancing with mockery. "I wouldn't know. I'm not sure what he looks like," Lucas added with a smirk, as if this entire encounter was just a game to him.

The patriarch's face darkened, his brows knitting together in a tight line of fury. His hands clenched at his sides, fingers curling into tight fists, and his aura surged as anger swelled inside him.

"Watch your tongue, boy," he spat, his voice low, dripping with venom. "I won't ask again. Tell me now—did you harm my son?"

For a moment, Lucas didn't respond. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, his smirk never fading.

Then, in one smooth, almost careless motion, he reached into the shadows behind him. Without breaking eye contact with the patriarch, Lucas pulled out a stake, on which hung a limp, lifeless body.

The once-proud young master of the Emberhart family dangled from the stake, his body bruised and bloodied. His arrogant face, now frozen in fear and agony, was a grotesque reminder of the brutality he had suffered.

Lucas swung the stake forward, displaying the grisly sight for the patriarch and his elders to see. "Oh," Lucas said, his tone light with feigned surprise, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Is this the one you were talking about?"

He paused, as if considering it for a moment, then shrugged casually. "I guess I played with him a little too much. Looks like he ended up dead."

The patriarch's face contorted with raw, unfiltered rage the moment his eyes landed on his son's lifeless body. His breath came in sharp bursts as his aura exploded outward, swirling violently with power. His entire body trembled, consumed by fury.

"You..." the patriarch growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage, each word dripping with venom. His entire body shook as his fury reached its boiling point. "YOU DARE?!"

Lucas stood unfazed, the smirk on his face widening, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Dare?" he repeated, his voice taunting, as if the very idea of fear was beneath him. "Of course, I dare."

The patriarch's face twisted in fury, his hands trembling as he summoned a massive fireball, flames roaring into life in his palm. With a roar, he hurled the burning sphere toward Lucas, the air around it rippling from the sheer heat.

Lucas didn't flinch. As the fireball hurtled toward him, he simply raised his hand, catching it with ease. The flames swirled around his palm, but they did nothing. Not a single mark or burn appeared on his skin.
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The smirk never left his face. "Is this it?" Lucas asked, his tone dripping with mockery as he crushed the fireball in his grip, the flames snuffed out as easily as if they were a mere candle. "I expected more from the father of such a weakling."

[Hah! Weak! Just like his son. Maybe it runs in the family,] the system chimed in, its voice arrogant and shameless. [Oh, and look at him! His face is redder than his own fire!

What a pathetic sight.]

Lucas chuckled, clearly enjoying the patriarch's mounting frustration. "You know," he continued, his voice taking on a condescending tone, "I thought you'd put up more of a fight. After all, you're supposed to be the mighty patriarch of the Emberhart family. But it seems weakness runs in your blood."

The patriarch's eyes widened in disbelief, his fury burning even hotter. His aura flared, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "You... insolent wretch!" he spat, his voice a deadly whisper. "I will make you pay for that!"

Lucas's smirk widened, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Oh, please do try."

[Yeah, let's see what you've got, old man. My host is getting bored.] the system added, its mocking tone echoing in Lucas's mind. [Do something entertaining for once!]

The patriarch's fury surged to new heights, his aura flaring brighter and more intense than ever before. But it was clear—Lucas had rattled him. The mocking, the arrogance... it had pushed him past the point of reason.