CHAPTER 290: CHAPTER 289 - ARGON VS ZEPHYR.

Last night, in the Vaise main estate.

As the pale subordinates of Zephyr rushed forward, they were cut down by a single swipe of Argon’s blade.

The man didn’t falter.

Not for a breath, not for a heartbeat.

His massive frame surged forward, the greatsword carving the air with a thunderous shriek of steel.

Every swing was finality incarnate—pale figures split apart like brittle clay, their broken bodies hurled aside in pieces.

Bloodless fragments scattered across the marble floor as Argon’s aura tore through them, each strike enough to shatter walls.

It was then that Valeria’s voice cut through the clash like a desperate blade.

"Stop! You have to stop!"

Her cry cracked with urgency. Her hands clutched the seat so hard her nails snapped.

"They’re undead!"

Argon’s sword froze mid-swing—only for a fraction of a second. The weight of her words echoed across the battlefield, louder than the steel itself.

Valeria rose to her feet, trembling but resolute.

"They can’t be killed! The moment they fall, they rise again—stronger! They’re the same creatures that attacked me and Raven’s group. The longer this battle drags, the worse it becomes!"

Argon’s eyes sharpened when he heard those words, as he knew about this incident. He didn’t know what had happened in detail, but he knew the overview.

The others, however, didn’t know, so the moment they heard Valeria’s words, gasps rippled.

A few elders hesitated in their duels. Mariane’s flame flickered. Joseph’s ice crackled uncertainly in the air.

"Impossible—" One of the Argon loyalists spat. "Nothing survives a Plate Ten’s strike!"

But the words died on his tongue.

The shattered corpses of Zephyr’s pale host began to... twitch.

Their broken limbs writhed unnaturally, bones snapping back into place with sickening cracks. Hollow eyes rolled forward again. Their bodies reknit as if the destruction had never happened.

Within seconds, they were up again, and when they rose, they were faster. Stronger. Their movements were no longer stiff but fluid—predatory.

The loyalists reeled.

"By the gods..." Mariane whispered.

Zephyr’s smirk widened at the sight of Valeria. His purple eyes gleamed with irritation as he finally decided to look at her.

"Stay quiet, sister. I’ll get to you soon enough."

Valeria’s stomach clenched, but her eyes narrowed. In that moment, the decision was clear.

Better a tyrant’s shadow than a monster’s maw.

She had decided to side with Argon, as he wasn’t hostile toward her.

Her voice rang out again, sharp and cutting. "The only way to kill them is to erase all of them at once!"

Her words brought the entire battlefield to a frozen pause.

The clash halted mid-motion, with dozens of undead and dozens of elders staring across the chaos. Her declaration echoed through the collapsing chamber.

But then, Zephyr laughed.

"Oh, Valeria," he drawled, shaking his head, "and what do you accomplish by saying that?"

His arms spread wide, mockery thick in his tone. "With so many gathered here, tangled between my followers and his... who can possibly obliterate them all in one strike?"

The laughter was still echoing when Argon’s aura exploded.

The weight of it crushed air, bent torches, and rattled foundations already split from battle. His sword rose high, gleaming with a blinding arc of force so absolute that even the undead recoiled.

His intent was clear—one swing to end them all, even if it meant razing every soul present.

Zephyr’s grin sharpened like broken glass.

"Do you think I’d come here with an army so easy to defeat? That I wouldn’t hide one... just in case you tried something like this?"

Argon’s sword wavered.

However, it was only for a moment.

Then, with a snarl, he swung.

Not at Zephyr’s subordinates but at the estate’s walls.

It seemed like that was his aim from the start—the collapse of the estate.

After all, no Vaise elder would die getting buried under debris.

The next second, the estate screamed. Stone shattered, marble cracked in spiderwebs across the floor, and walls groaned before exploding into dust. Pillars collapsed like brittle twigs.

The Vaise stronghold came down upon itself in a storm of rubble and fury.

Yells filled the air as everyone used their attacks to shatter or deflect the incoming debris.

Just because they wouldn’t die from being crushed didn’t mean they wouldn’t be injured.

So, everyone protected themselves, except the undead.

They weren’t fast enough.

They were smothered under debris—yet even buried, their writhing hands clawed through the dust.

Through it all, Argon didn’t shield. Didn’t slow.

He charged.

The rubble that smashed down upon him cracked and split against his aura, shattering into dust before it could touch him.

He cut a direct path through the storm, his colossal frame unbroken, his eyes locked on Zephyr alone, who, like everyone else, was focusing on the debris.

Then—

The greatsword fell.

A swing like judgment, cleaving space itself, roaring straight for Zephyr’s neck.

For the first time, Zephyr’s eyes widened. Shock flickered—his smirk faltered.

But before steel could sever flesh, the blade stopped.

A few centimeters from his throat.

No barrier. No shield. Nothing to block it.

It was Argon who froze.

Blood streamed from his nose, his veins bulging, his hands trembling as his aura faltered for the first time. His gaze trembled, still locked on Zephyr with a mixture of cold fury and dawning horror.

His words came out low, torn between rage and disbelief.

"...You were a royal."

The hall stilled. Even the undead halted, their hollow eyes flicking between master and patriarch.

Valeria, cornered by three pale figures, froze as well, her lips trembling. "...What... What’s happening?"

He did hear Argon’s words, and the way his body stopped on its own made it clear that those words were true, but how?

Since when was that?

It didn’t take long for them to figure it out, especially for Argon.

He realized that his first wife—the only wife alive—was a royal.

Zephyr, on the other hand, stepped forward. Slowly. Casually. Until his nose nearly brushed against the flat of Argon’s sword.

He didn’t care. Didn’t even flinch.

His grin returned—wider than before, teeth flashing like a wolf’s.

"This," he whispered, his voice dripping with triumph, "was always my final card. The one thing no Vaise could ever win against."

Argon’s teeth ground together hard enough to crack as he realized that he wouldn’t win.

He turned, voice cutting across the chaos with a command that shook the walls.

"—Retreat."

Gasps filled the chamber.

Zephyr tilted his head, mockery bright in his eyes.

"Retreat? Do you truly believe I’ll let them run?"

Argon merely glanced at him, his eyes cold, and then he turned away.

It was clear what he wanted to say.

’You can’t stop any of us.’

Argon’s loyalists didn’t even wait for a second as they moved, and when they did, Zephyr realized why Argon was so confident about his retreat.

The undead were still crushed under the rubble, so although they were alive, they couldn’t move, and without the undead, Zephyr’s forces were much weaker than Argon’s.

For the first time since the fight started, Zephyr gritted his teeth, as this wasn’t something he had calculated.

He had underestimated the strongest man.

"Chase after them," he commanded, and his Vaise subordinates, despite being startled, obeyed without an objection.

All of them already knew that they wouldn’t get their hands on the escapees, but they didn’t voice out their thoughts.

It was then that Zephyr’s eyes caught sight of Valeria, who was now fighting the undead, who had somehow healed up.

She wasn’t able to escape.

He walked toward her, smiling. "Why don’t we have a chat, sister? I would love to keep you company."

Valeira’s gaze turned toward Argon, who was already far away but ready to turn toward her.

Then, he paused only for a second, and then, as if he heard what Zephyr had said, he continued forward.

"Well, looks like he abandoned you," Zephyr chuckled from the side. "This is why you should’ve stood up for me."

Valeria, however, knew that Argon hadn’t run away. He had merely judged the situation safe for her, as Zephyr didn’t seem to have any plans of killing her.

She knew this because she saw the light in his eyes.

It was something she hadn’t expected from him, but it was there.

There was reassurance in his eyes.

But then, her vision swam as she felt something hit the back of her head.

"Ghh!" With a groan, her world turned dark.

However, it was only for a while as her eyes opened, and the next thing she saw was a damp ceiling.

She frowned, sitting up straight, taking in her surroundings, and realized that she was in a prison.

Above all, it was the peak of the afternoon, which she realized thanks to the sunlight coming through the barred window.

It wasn’t warm but hot.

However, that also meant that she had been sleeping since the incident.

As she realized that, the cell fell silent—that was until the footsteps came.

Then came the voice she wanted to hear the least.

"Aha, you are awake."

Following the voice, Zephyr came into view, standing outside the prison cell.

He leaned casually against the bars, his smirk curling like smoke. "I trust the accommodations weren’t too dreadful, dear sister? I do hope you’ve enjoyed your little nap on stone and straw. Consider it... a royal treatment, fitting for family."

Valeria’s hands clenched against her knees, teeth grinding so hard her jaw ached. She refused to look at him, but the heat in her glare betrayed her fury.

Zephyr chuckled low, tilting his head, purple eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Still so defiant. Tell me, Valeria... aren’t you the least bit curious why you’re alive at all?"