CHAPTER 295: CHAPTER 294 - “NUMBERS ALWAYS WIN.”

No one with Vaise blood can touch the royals—or so the Vaise family believed.

Raven, who had been thinking about it a lot since he was born, as he knew he had to face Zephyr later, however, didn’t feel the same.

He knew that the thing the royal blood stopped wasn’t the Vaise family members, but their draconic ascendant physique.

Without the physique, the Vaise are nothing but normal humans.

No matter how great a talent one had or how high-level a technique they had created, in the end, the mana one needed to use those talents or techniques originated from the Vaise physique.

So, again, no Vaise could defeat a Royal.

That was until Raven was born.

Similar to how Zephyr had the blood of Vaise and the Royals running within his veins, Raven had another dragonic bloodline running through his veins—the soul dragon bloodline.

Unlike normal Vaise, Raven didn’t need to rely on his physique to defeat others. Even without it, he could defeat others, especially now, when his soul power had already moved past the third level, which was the physical manifestation of soul power.

Raven was now a level-five soul power user—someone who was supposed to be as strong as a layer-ten knight or tenth circle mage.

The best thing about soul power, despite its high consumption rate, was that it was an attack no one could see—not unless they could use it.

That gave him a chance to confuse his enemies, and in confusion, their mental defenses would weaken, and once his enemy was in that situation, he could finish them off with a powerful finishing strike.

So, now, as Zephyr lay on the cracked ground, blood flowing from his face, he was confused, and so were the people behind him.

The silence after Zephyr’s crash was broken only by the sound of stone crumbling beneath his body.

For one fleeting moment, the arrogant prince of the Vaise lay there stunned, violet eyes wide with disbelief.

Then the wound on his cheek—where Raven’s invisible strike had landed—began to mend. Flesh knitted together in seconds, leaving behind no trace of injury but the sting of humiliation.

Zephyr pushed himself up, slow and deliberate, his glare fixed on Raven. Yet, hidden beneath the fury, something foreign stirred.

Caution.

’What was that?’ His mind reeled.

He hadn’t sensed a ripple of mana—no vibration, no sound, no physical motion he could measure.

One moment, Raven had waved like he was dismissing a fly, and the next—pain, confusion, the world spinning.

He clenched his fists, violet light sparking at his knuckles, but he didn’t step forward. Not yet. ’If I rush in blind, I’ll expose myself to something unknown and dangerous. I need to understand first...’

Behind Raven, his group shifted, their reactions telling volumes even in silence.

Clara’s lips pressed into a firm line, her blade hand lowering slowly. She exhaled once, steady, though her eyes betrayed the smallest flicker of triumph.

Siris’s grin widened, sharp and wolfish, as if her man had just pulled the most deliciously brutal prank in history.

She leaned forward, whispering in delight, "He slapped him without moving... I love him."

Jessy folded her arms, shoulders relaxing.

"Figures," she muttered just loud enough for their side to hear. "Always hiding the good tricks until the last minute."

Jake tilted his head, his scythe still poised, but his shadows curling back like obedient pets.

"Invisible death..." His voice was soft, almost admiring.

Alex, naturally, broke subtlety in half. "OH-HO! Did you all see that?! Man went full anime—slap.exe engaged, boss fight broken!"

He pointed dramatically at Zephyr. "Patch him out, Raven, patch him OUT!"

Blargh chuckled inside his chest. "Peak performance, baby. The royals got nothing on the cheat menu."

Tinny and Binny squeaked celebratory cheers, while the panther bounded happily in a circle, sensing victory but not its weight.

Valeria, however, stood slack-jawed, her voice trembling as she whispered, "What... What is going on? How could you—how could he—that shouldn’t even be possible..."

She clutched at her chest, muttering faster. "No one... no one, not even Father..."

She hadn’t even realized that she had started calling Argon "father" again. Her hate for Argon was dissipating slowly as she realized that there might be something about him that she didn’t know.

For now, her words drifted into shock-ridden silence, eyes glued to her younger brother like he had just rewritten the laws of their bloodline before her very eyes.

Zephyr, meanwhile, ground his teeth, forcing his composure back in place. His violet gaze flicked briefly to the elders behind him. They were watching, shocked and confused.

If he faltered here, every bit of reputation he had built until now would shatter.

But if he charged and Raven struck again...

’No. I can’t risk it. Not until I understand.’

He straightened, his smirk sliding back into place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "So... You’ve picked up a little trick. Cute. But tricks won’t change inevitability, little brother."

Then, he snapped his fingers.

The ground trembled as the eyes in the dark hallway of the Cradle moved.

The undead, who had been waiting inside on Zephyr’s orders, now poured out of the building.

One after another, figures began to crawl out—pale flesh, armored bodies, and hollow eyes that stared at Raven’s group.

Dozens upon dozens.

In seconds, the courtyard was flooded. More than a hundred undead, the rest of Zephyr’s horde, coordinated and alert, formed a jagged circle around Raven’s group.

Their collective dead mana pressed down on Raven’s group, and the group tensed.

Because, unlike last time, they didn’t just have the undead to fight.

The elders behind Zephyr, and the guy himself, retreated, but their gazes were sharp.

They were waiting for Raven and his group to engage with the undead so they could sneak up and win.

Alex’s jaw dropped. "Bro just opened an expansion pack! Do you have to fight them again?! Collect them like last time?"

Cluckles flapped his wings, feathers puffing dramatically. "Cluckles has seen many armies... but never such ugliness gathered at once."

"We saw a horde bigger than this one a while ago, Cluckles," Rufus corrected from the side.

"Cluckles knows. But this army looks uglier."

Cluckles’s reply almost made a few undead stumble.

The panther growled low, tail lashing, as Tinny and Binny squeaked insults at the nearest undead.

Siris, however, grinned wider. "Good. More to stab."

Jessy rolled her eyes. "I guess this is a stabbing heaven for you, as no matter how much you stab them, they won’t die."

Raven, however, didn’t flinch. Hands still in his pockets, he watched the rising horde with the same calm detachment, crimson eyes gleaming faintly.

Zephyr’s smirk hardened. "Come, Raven. Let’s see if your little invisible trick can swat all of them. No matter how good you are, numbers always win."

The undead hissed and rattled, closing in, their empty eyes glowing with the reflection of Raven’s calm smile.

Then, Raven’s smile turned into a grin. "You think the difference between us is too great, yes? That you can still defeat me?"

Zephyr’s brows twitched as he heard the line that he had said to Argon last night.

Even the elders and the siblings behind him had the same reaction until they tensed upon realizing what those words meant.

It meant that Raven had reinforcements and that the number of people he had on his side was greater than all of them—including the undead.

’Who is it?’

’Is it some hidden force?’

’Why am I feeling uneasy?’

Such thoughts appeared in the elders’ heads while Zephyr frowned. "Enough bluffing, Raven. We all know that you don’t have any backing yet."

Raven raised a brow at Zephyr’s words, crimson eyes narrowing with amusement.

"Is that so? You think you know everything about me already? Even I have a few things the world doesn’t know about."

Then, casually, he whistled.

For a second, nothing happened. The courtyard was silent but for the hiss of the undead. Then—

"Squeak."

A small squirrel popped out from the corner of the cracked stone path, its tiny nose twitching, head tilted innocently to the side.

Zephyr’s group stared, baffled. A ripple of laughter almost broke from his siblings; one elder even coughed to hide his smirk.

But before the sound could fully escape, the squirrel sneezed.

FWOOSH!

A jet of fire erupted from its nostrils, scorching the ground in a molten blaze. Blackened stone cracked and hissed under the heat, and the surrounding undead staggered backward, their limbs half-melted by the breath.

The laughter died in their throats.

Zephyr’s eyes widened a fraction, his smirk faltering.

But it didn’t stop.

Within a second, the reason for Cluckles and the panther’s late arrival appeared before everyone’s eyes.

More squeaks echoed through the courtyard.

From every corner, from beneath broken tiles, from the shadows of the Cradle’s walls—they came. Dozens upon dozens of squirrels, each one puffed up adorably, eyes gleaming unnaturally bright.

Some twitched their tiny paws and crackled with lightning.

Others hovered a few inches off the ground, glowing with psychic force.

One flexed its fluffy tail and split a slab of stone clean in two.

Within seconds, the numbers swelled to hundreds—far outmatching the undead. The air grew heavy with a bizarre, terrifying energy.

The Clawtail Recon Squad. The Nutfang Rapid Strike Unit. And more—entire squirrel legions, their beady eyes fixed on the enemy.

The undead hissed, but for the first time, they hesitated.

Behind Raven, his group reacted in their own way.

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course. Why wouldn’t it be squirrels?"

Siris burst out laughing, dagger twirling in her hand. "Yes! Yes! Bring me the fluffy army!"

Jessy’s expression twisted in disbelief. "We’re about to be saved by... rodents."

Alex dropped to his knees in mock reverence. "BEHOLD—THE APOCALYPSE ARMY OF ACORNIA!"

Cluckles narrowed his eyes, gravely nodding. "Welcome, my friends. Cluckles feels proud to have been your guide to this place."

Cluckles and the panther, on Raven’s orders, had gone to call for Acornia’s reinforcements, and although there were some complications, they had succeeded.

Now, the squirrel army that had been waiting for Raven’s signal finally appeared.

Tinny and Binny squeaked furiously at the arriving legions, tails saluting like generals greeting their troops.

Raven didn’t move. His grin widened, sharp as a blade, and his voice rang calm and cutting through the tense courtyard.

"So tell me, Zephyr... do you still think you’re winning?"

The squirrels squeaked in unison. A chorus. A threat. The sound echoed like war drums, haunting and absurd, a promise of chaos about to erupt.

Unlike the helpless bunch they were some time ago, the squirrel army had changed now.

The squirrels, once the weakest of the forest, had now conquered the Bestiary Forest because of this army.

So, they were by far one of the most dangerous beings Zephyr could hope to face.

So, for the first time in years, he felt his certainty crack.