CHAPTER 143: CHAPTER 143 | VOICE

*crack!

Jinn cracked his sword forward, unleashing a roaring wave of crimson eidra that tore through the air toward the ten soldiers barring his path.

The wave howled like an unchained beast, each ripple thrumming with destructive intent, until it finally collided against their formation.

"Tch!" One of the soldiers—a tall man with long, dark hair whipping wildly behind him—

stepped forward without hesitation, planting his stance with the weight of an unyielding wall.

His massive two-handed sword, engraved with faint blue runes, swung up and caught the brunt of Jinn’s attack.

*CLASH!

The air split with a deafening crack as crimson and azure clashed violently, sparks and raw energy spilling out like molten shards.

For several heartbeats, Jinn’s wave pushed against the man’s blade, the ground beneath them groaning and cracking under the sheer pressure.

But the soldier did not falter.

With a sharp, practiced twist, he redirected the surge

*Tsssssssss!

and dispersed it into the ground, leaving a jagged scorch mark between them.

The man’s gaze locked with Jinn’s, his brows furrowing deeply.

"Why are you doing this to us!?" he barked, voice raw with a mixture of anger and desperation.

"We’ve lived peacefully here for years—kept to ourselves—fought no one."

His grip tightened on the hilt, knuckles whitening as rage seeped into his tone.

"DAMNED INVADERS!" he roared, thrusting his blade forward like a signal flare.

The nine soldiers flanking him responded instantly, their boots slamming into the earth as they charged.

The ground thundered beneath their synchronized advance, and their glowing eidra-infused weapons lit up like streaks of lightning racing toward Jinn.

Jinn didn’t answer the soldier with words—

his response came solely through the steel in his grip.

Shifting his stance, he brought Fangeryth low to his hip, the blade humming faintly as crimson eidra gathered along its edge.

Then, with a sudden, precise snap, he slashed upward and across in a diagonal arc,

*zzzt! *zzzt!

the motion so fast it left afterimages in the air.

From that strike, an eidra wave burst forth—

not wild and feral like before, but controlled, deliberate.

It formed into a massive glowing crimson cross, each beam thick and heavy with condensed energy.

Unlike his previous slash, the wave didn’t scream ahead with blistering speed.

Instead, it drifted forward at an unnerving, almost lazy pace, searing the earth wherever it passed.

The ground hissed and smoked, charred black under its slow, crawling advance.

The soldiers tensed at first, expecting it to hit with the same ferocity as before.

But when the wave’s speed—or lack thereof—became apparent, they exchanged brief glances and simply moved aside, darting around the glowing cross with swift sidesteps.

One of them scoffed under his breath.

"Was that supposed to scare us?"

Another grinned mockingly.

"If that’s all you’ve got, this’ll be easier than—"

But the faint, unstable hum coming from the wave began to deepen, its pitch dropping into a low, vibrating growl.

The heat pouring from it intensified, and the scorched cracks in the ground started glowing faintly, as if something beneath the surface was waking up.

Before any of the soldiers could take another step, Jinn’s expression hardened, his fingers curling into a tight fist in one sharp, deliberate motion.

The crimson energy trailing faintly around him seemed to respond instantly, and the glowing eidra cross still hovering on the battlefield pulsed once—

*thump!

like the deep, rhythmic thump of a war drum.

In that brief heartbeat, the air grew heavy, heat warping the space above the blackened ground.

Then—

it erupted.

*BANG! *BANG! *BANG! *BANG!

The arms of the cross shot outward in all directions, lengthening at blistering speed.

Each beam became a scorching wall of annihilation, slicing clean through armor, stone, and flesh alike.

Whatever the crimson light touched didn’t just burn—

it disintegrated into drifting ash, leaving only empty space where once stood the living.

The soldiers caught dead in the blast never even had time to scream, their bodies scattering as dust into the wind.

Others at the fringes of the eruption were less fortunate—they survived, but the price was a severed limb, a shoulder torn away, or a gaping hole in their side where the light had grazed them.

Their agony filled the air in a chorus of ragged, piercing cries.

"ARGH—! MY ARM—!"

"HELP ME—SOMEONE—!!"

Several collapsed onto the charred earth, clutching their wounds in shock and terror, their eyes wide as they stared at the blackened line of destruction seared through their ranks.

Jinn stepped forward through the settling haze, the faint glow from Fangeryth casting his shadow long against the smoking ground.

His voice was calm, almost cold, cutting through the moans and chaos like a blade.

"Out of my way."

*Thud!

The long-haired man lunged forward again, his boots pounding against the ground, the panic in his eyes betraying the calm façade he tried to keep.

Around him, the cries of his injured comrades still lingered in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of scorched armor and flesh.

His jaw tightened, the sight of Jinn effortlessly tearing through their ranks searing itself into his mind.

"Damned... monster..." he hissed, his voice low but heavy with venom.

The faint shimmer of eidra began to coil and swirl along his forearms, threads of light flickering across his skin as both hands gripped the hilt of his massive two-handed sword.

His knuckles whitened, and his stance lowered, preparing for a clash that could decide his fate.

But before steel could meet steel, something unexpected invaded his focus.

A voice—clear, commanding, and impossibly close—resounded inside his skull, bypassing his ears entirely.

If you want you and some of your countrymen to live... follow my instructions.

His eyes widened instantly.

It was as if the words had been etched directly into his mind.

The grip on his sword faltered for a heartbeat as he turned his head sharply, scanning the chaos for the source.

His gaze darted from the smoke-shrouded rubble to the advancing Zerafhon soldiers, then to the dark silhouettes of mechanized bikes still rumbling in the distance.

But no...

no one was speaking to him.

Then his eyes locked onto Jinn.

For a moment, the world narrowed to that single figure standing amidst the ruin.

There was no doubt—the boy was speaking to him without ever opening his mouth, his voice threading straight into his consciousness.

The realization sent a cold ripple down his spine.

Jinn’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression unreadable.

His right hand tapped the hilt of Fangeryth once—just once—like the ticking of a clock waiting to strike.

It was a silent gesture, but one heavy with intent, as if telling the soldier:

I’m waiting... decide.

The long-haired man’s pulse thundered in his ears.

This wasn’t just a fight anymore.

Something else was unfolding.