Chapter 225: Destruction
The city lay in ruins, a stark contrast to the once grand and opulent structures that had symbolized the power of the Borgias Family.
Now, the streets were filled with debris, smoke billowed from crumbled buildings, and the sound of distant explosions echoed like thunder.
Panic gripped the population, young and old alike.
Families clutched each other as they ran through the streets, desperate to find safety.
Mothers shielded their children, while elderly citizens, once proud and secure under the Borgias' rule, hobbled in fear, their faces etched with terror and confusion.
The once-bustling markets were now filled with abandoned stalls, overturned carts, and the occasional wares scattered across the cobblestones.
People fought over scraps of food, and cries of desperation filled the air as the sense of order, long maintained by the iron grip of the Borgias, crumbled into chaos.
The city's former elegance was now a wasteland, where survival was the only priority.
Among the shadows of a crumbling alleyway, a group of individuals, their faces obscured by the dark, whispered amongst themselves, their voices low and anxious.
They huddled close, casting furtive glances toward the shattered remains of the Borgias Family's stronghold in the distance.
"Where do you think they've gone?" a man asked, his voice tinged with fear. His eyes darted around as if expecting to be watched.
A taller figure, his face half-covered by a hood, shook his head.
"They're not here anymore, that's for sure. The strongest members of the family—the core—must have fled the moment the ritual was complete."
"But how?" another whispered urgently. "There were guards all over the city, the watchtowers were manned. No one saw them leave. And there's no sign of the younger generation either. No bodies, no traces. It's like they vanished."
A woman, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, leaned closer. "They must have had a plan. There's no way the Borgias would leave themselves so exposed, not after awakening their spirit. I heard they performed some kind of powerful ritual in secret. Perhaps they used that to escape."
The group fell silent, pondering the possibilities.
"What about the secret tunnels?" one of the younger men whispered, breaking the silence. "It's said they've had them for centuries, ways in and out of the city, known only to the core family members."
Another shook his head. "We've already checked most of them. They're either collapsed or too dangerous to use now with the city falling apart. If they used the tunnels, they were long gone before the collapse."
"Then where?" the tall man asked, his tone growing more desperate. "Where would they go?"
The woman stared at the broken skyline of the city.
"They're smart. They wouldn't flee without a backup plan. They must have split up. The strongest forces and the talented young ones—they'll be hiding, waiting for the right moment.
"Maybe in the countryside, or deeper in the forests, where the terrain can protect them. Or maybe they've gone underground, literally, into one of the forgotten places outside the city, where no one will think to look."
The group murmured in agreement. "And what about their leader, Lord Victor? He's the key. Wherever he is, the rest of them will follow."
The tall man clenched his fists. "Victor would never abandon the family completely. He's too proud. Wherever they are, he's with them, planning their return. We have to think of countermeasures. If we can find them before they regain their strength…"
His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear. The Borgias, though defeated for the moment, were far from finished. They needed to act before the family regained its footing and struck back.
"We need to spread out," the woman said, her voice steady but tense.
"Search every possible escape route, every hidden place they could be. The countryside, the forests, the ruins. They'll be hiding somewhere, biding their time. We can't give them that time."
One by one, the shadowy figures nodded in agreement and began to drift away, slipping back into the crumbling city to carry out their plan.
From the cover of the nearby forest, Victor watched the city from a distance, his eyes sharp and unwavering.
He stood among the trees, the wind ruffling his dark cloak, blending him into the natural surroundings.
His eyes scanned the ruined city, noting the panicked movements of the citizens and the remnants of the forces that once protected the Borgias' domain.
His breath came in slow, controlled inhales, but his mind raced with anger and a burning desire for vengeance. Lyerin's name echoed in his thoughts like a curse.
"He won't get away with this," Victor muttered, his voice low and filled with venom. "He thinks he's won. He thinks he can crush us with his madness and lies."
His gaze flicked toward the city once more before turning back into the depths of the forest. "But we'll rebuild. We'll gather our strength, and when the time comes…" His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile. "We'll make him pay."
With one last glance at the ruins, Victor turned and melted back into the shadows of the trees, disappearing from view as silently as he had appeared.
…
Lyerin stood over Yasira, his fingers tightening around her neck, the warmth of her body contrasting with the coldness of his smile.
Her six arms, severed and scattered like fallen branches around them, bled out onto the ground, creating a stark, vivid reminder of the brutality that had just transpired.
The ethereal beauty of the Asura girl, once alluring and fierce, now seemed almost haunting in her brokenness.
"Where is my tribe?" Lyerin asked, his voice smooth, almost mockingly curious. "After winning the survival game, where are they? Where did they go? Did you think you could simply take them from me without consequences?"
Yasira's smile was weak, blood oozing from her nose and pooling in the corners of her eyes, staining her cheeks crimson.
Yet, despite her predicament, there was a defiance in her gaze.
"You'll never find your tribe again, Lyerin," she said, her voice strained but laced with an eerie calmness. "They are lost to you now. The Asura have ways that you can't even begin to comprehend."
Lyerin leaned closer, his eyes narrowing, searching for any sign of weakness in her.
"Lost? Or hidden? I know you Asuras are skilled in the arts of deception. Did you think severing your own arms would intimidate me?" He chuckled darkly, relishing the twisted power he held over her. "I'm merely curious. What did your people do to them?"
Yasira's breath came in ragged gasps, and she forced herself to speak, the effort evident in her trembling frame.
"You think you're clever, Lyerin, but you know nothing of the Asura. Your tribe… they're not just hidden. They are taken to places beyond your reach, beyond your understanding."
Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on, her resilience shining through the pain.
"They are in the hands of my people now. They will be used to strengthen our forces, and you will never see them again."
Lyerin's amusement turned to irritation as he listened to her words.
"Taken? You think you can keep them from me? They are part of me. You've no idea what it means to be bonded to a tribe's spirit, to have power running through your veins. I will find them, and when I do, you'll regret this."
"Regret?" Yasira laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed through the chaos surrounding them.
"You're a fool if you think that. We Asura are beyond your petty threats. You believe your victory in the survival game means anything? The powers at play are far greater than you can imagine."
"Powers at play?"
Lyerin scoffed, a gleam of madness sparking in his eyes.
"You underestimate my resolve. If my tribe is truly lost, then I'll tear apart the entire Asura race to find them. I'll unleash chaos upon your people, and you'll watch as they fall one by one."
Yasira's gaze remained steady, even as blood dripped from her features. "You can't begin to fathom the consequences of such actions. The Asura are giants among rulers, little human Lyerin. They will come for you, and they will come for the humans who follow you. You're playing a game far above your weight class."
"Game?"
Lyerin sneered, releasing her neck just enough for her to take a shuddering breath, his tone dripping with disdain.
"This is no game to me, Yasira. This is survival. And in survival, I will use every trick, every means necessary to reclaim what is mine. You may have your precious tribe now, but soon, very soon, they will be nothing more than pawns in my play. And you…"
He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper of malice, "you'll be the first to witness their demise."
Yasira's eyes flickered with a mix of fear and determination as she met his gaze.
"You'll fail, human Lyerin. The Asura will always find a way to protect their own control. Even if you think you're invincible, but that arrogance will be your downfall."
Lyerin straightened, a twisted smile stretching across his lips. "Perhaps. But for now, I have the upper hand, and your people are at my mercy. I'll savor every moment of this. You've made a grave mistake underestimating me."
With that, he released her completely, stepping back and admiring the sight of her broken form sprawled on the ground.
He relished the power he held, the thrill of victory coursing through his veins.
Yasira lay there, bleeding and battered, but her spirit remained unbroken.
Lyerin knew she would be a valuable asset, a living reminder of the chaos he was capable of unleashing.
"Now, let's see where they could be," he mused, a manic glint in his eyes as he contemplated his next move.