NOVEL NEXT Chapter 338: Fighting back
The bugs reached them within seconds, their sharp mandibles biting into flesh and burrowing under the skin.
The pain was indescribable, a searing agony that left them writhing and screaming. But even then, Lyerin wasn't satisfied.
"Keep crawling," he ordered, his voice cutting through their cries. "You're not done yet."
As Lyerin walked alongside the crawling group, his predatory gaze swept over them like a hawk surveying its prey.
It wasn't long before his sharp senses caught something peculiar—Donovan, Theran, Miriam, and Mikhail were subtly, almost imperceptibly, storing mana within themselves.
The faint glimmers of energy radiating from their broken, battered forms were enough to ignite a flicker of irritation in Lyerin's expression.
He stopped abruptly, his boots crunching against the dirt and leaves beneath them.
"Ah, interesting," he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement. He tilted his head as though considering his next move, and the four who were storing mana froze, their eyes wide with fear.
Lyerin's gaze burned into them, piercing through whatever fragile facade they had managed to muster.
The Scarred Soldier and the Younger Woman, on the other hand, displayed no such attempt at storing mana.
They continued crawling, their heads bowed, as if resigned to their fate.
Lyerin's attention shifted to them momentarily, his annoyance growing as he realized they were offering no resistance at all.
"Stand up," he said sharply, his voice laced with irritation.
The Scarred Soldier and the Younger Woman hesitated, their battered bodies struggling to obey the command.
When they didn't move fast enough, Lyerin stepped forward and kicked the Scarred Soldier in the ribs, sending him sprawling onto his side.
"I said stand up!" Lyerin bellowed, his voice echoing through the trees. The Scarred Soldier coughed violently, blood dripping from his mouth, but he forced himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. The Younger Woman followed suit, trembling so violently she could barely stand.
Lyerin circled them slowly, like a predator toying with its prey. "And you," he said, his gaze snapping back to Donovan, Theran, Miriam, and Mikhail. "You think I don't notice? You think I don't see what you're doing?" His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. "Storing mana in your pathetic state? Are you planning to surprise me? To fight back?"
The four of them flinched, their trembling forms betraying their fear. They dared not speak, but their silence only seemed to infuriate Lyerin further.
He stepped closer to them, his movements deliberate and menacing, and the oppressive weight of his presence seemed to suffocate the air around them.
"You four..." he began, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're trembling. Why?" He paused, letting the question hang in the air. "Is it because you fear what I'll do when I find out what pathetic plan you've concocted? Or is it simply because you know there's no escape?" Stay updated through empire
Donovan finally broke, his voice shaking as he stammered, "W-we... we don't have a choice."
Lyerin's lips curled into a wicked smile, his amusement returning in full force. "Oh, Donovan," he said mockingly, crouching down so he was eye-level with the trembling man. "You always have a choice. It's just that every choice you make will lead to the same result." He chuckled darkly, his laughter sending chills down their spines.
Straightening up, Lyerin turned his attention back to the Scarred Soldier and the Younger Woman. "And you two," he said, his tone shifting to one of irritation. "Why aren't you doing anything? Are you that broken already? Or are you just boring?"
The Younger Woman, her voice barely above a whisper, managed to say, "We... we're too tired."
Lyerin stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter—a maniacal, unsettling sound that echoed through the forest. "Too tired?" he repeated, clutching his sides as if the very idea was hilarious. "Oh, you poor, poor things. You've disappointed me!"
The Scarred Soldier and the Younger Woman flinched at his words, their bodies tense as they braced for whatever punishment was to come. But instead of lashing out at them, Lyerin turned his attention back to the four who were storing mana.
"You know," he said casually, as if addressing an old friend, "I could kill you right now. Crush whatever little spark of hope you're clinging to." He paused, his grin widening. "But where's the fun in that? No, I want to see how far you'll go. How much you'll endure before you finally break."
He stepped back, gesturing for all of them to continue crawling. "Move faster," he ordered, his voice cold and unyielding. "And don't even think about trying something stupid. I'll know."
The group obeyed, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and fear. As they crawled, Lyerin's laughter filled the air once more, a chilling reminder of the monster who held their lives in his hands.
As the group continued their desperate crawl, an air of tense silence settled around them. But within their minds, plans began to take form.
Though battered and broken, Donovan, Theran, Miriam, Mikhail, and the Scarred Soldier exchanged quick glances filled with determination.
The Younger Woman hesitated, unsure, but when Donovan gave her a subtle nod, she steeled herself.
This was their only chance—attack now, or succumb entirely to Lyerin's relentless torment.
Lyerin, walking leisurely behind them, chuckled to himself, thoroughly entertained by their misery.
He didn't bother to keep his guard up; to him, they were nothing more than insects squirming at his feet. And that arrogance, they thought, would be their opening.
Suddenly, as if cued by some unseen signal, the five of them acted in unison. Donovan and Theran spun around, unleashing twin volleys of mana-infused daggers that shimmered with deadly precision.
At the same time, Miriam and Mikhail, both on the flanks, shot off compact bursts of concentrated mana—sharp, invisible projectiles aimed directly at Lyerin's vital points.
The Scarred Soldier, slower but no less determined, launched himself toward Lyerin with brute strength, his arms swinging in an attempt to pummel the monster before him.
For a moment, it seemed as if their combined assault would land, the air crackling with the sheer force of their desperation-fueled attack.
But Lyerin's grin only widened.
With almost languid ease, Lyerin flicked his wrist, summoning a shimmering, translucent barrier that absorbed the incoming daggers without a sound.
The mana projectiles were next, but before they could reach him, Lyerin twisted his body, dodging each one with such precision that it was as if he'd choreographed the entire attack beforehand.
His movements were fluid, almost playful, as he sidestepped the Scarred Soldier's powerful swings, each one missing by mere inches.
The Scarred Soldier roared in frustration, pouring the last remnants of his strength into a final, desperate punch. But before his fist could connect, Lyerin grabbed his wrist with an iron grip.
"Pathetic," Lyerin muttered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a flick of his hand, he sent the Scarred Soldier flying backward, crashing into a tree with a sickening thud.
Miriam and Mikhail tried to capitalize on the moment, rushing in from opposite sides in an attempt to blindside Lyerin. But he saw them coming.
Without even turning his head, he extended his arms outward, catching both of them by their throats. They struggled, clawing at his hands, but his grip was unyielding.
"You thought this would work?" Lyerin said, his voice low and menacing.
He lifted them higher, watching their faces contort in fear and pain. "I admire your determination, but your execution? Laughable." With a dismissive toss, he threw them both to the ground, where they landed in crumpled heaps.
Donovan and Theran, the last two standing, exchanged a frantic glance.
Together, they unleashed their most powerful attack yet—an intricate web of mana threads designed to bind and incapacitate Lyerin.
The threads shot out like serpents, coiling toward him with blinding speed.
But Lyerin didn't even flinch.
With a single clap of his hands, a shockwave of raw power erupted from his body, disintegrating the mana threads before they could reach him.
The force of the blast sent Donovan and Theran stumbling backward, their balance completely lost.
And then, it was over.
The group lay scattered and broken, their failed attack draining the last of their strength. They couldn't move, couldn't fight back. They could only watch as Lyerin strode toward them, his expression one of amused disappointment.
"Was that it?" Lyerin asked, crouching down to meet Donovan's gaze. "Was that your grand plan? To ambush me like cowards and hope for the best?" He shook his head, laughing softly. "You're even more entertaining than I thought."
One by one, they lowered their heads, unable to meet his gaze. Whatever hope they had clung to was gone now, crushed beneath the weight of Lyerin's overwhelming power.
"Back to crawling," Lyerin said, his tone casual but commanding. "You've earned your punishment."
Defeated, they obeyed. Dragging their broken bodies across the ground once more, they resumed their humiliating crawl, each movement a painful reminder of their failure.