The remaining lackeys began to panic, their techniques growing more desperate.
One after another, they attacked, but Oasis was always one step ahead.
A man with a curved blade aimed for Oasis's head, but Oasis dodged with ease, delivering a spinning backfist that caved in the man's skull.
Another, a martial artist using fist techniques, charged forward, unleashing a flurry of punches.
Oasis weaved through the blows with fluidity, stepping inside the man's guard and breaking his arm before snapping his neck with a single, swift motion.
Each of the lackeys fought with everything they had—one using fiery martial techniques, another enhancing his body with earth aura—but Oasis was untouchable.
He moved like a ghost, anticipating every attack, countering with lethal precision.
He dodged a fiery fist, and in the same breath, drove his elbow into the attacker's spine, paralyzing him instantly.
A man with twin daggers tried to slash at him, but Oasis caught his wrists, disarming him effortlessly before breaking his arms and slamming him face-first into the ground.
Blood pooled beneath the man's lifeless body.
The fight continued for what felt like an eternity to the onlookers, but in reality, it was over in minutes.
Oasis moved through the remaining lackeys like a reaper, each strike ending a life.
One man tried to use a defensive technique, coating his body in a shield of stone, but Oasis shattered it with a single blow to the chest, sending the man flying into a nearby pillar, his body limp.
The final lackey, trembling with fear, made a desperate, wild swing with his sword.
Oasis dodged, his movements almost lazy now.
He grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him off the ground.
The man choked, clawing at Oasis's hand, but it was futile.
With a flick of his wrist, Oasis snapped the man's neck, letting the body fall lifelessly to the floor.
Silence fell over the hall. The floor was slick with blood, and bodies were strewn everywhere.
Oasis stood amidst the carnage, his breathing steady, his expression calm.
He hadn't even used a single shred of mana.
The servants and guards, watching the entire scene unfold, felt their knees give out beneath them.
Many collapsed to the ground, some kneeling, others falling onto their backsides.
This… this can't be real, a guard thought, his hands trembling. A child… no, a demon…
"He… he killed them all… without using magic…" a servant whispered, her voice trembling.
Murmurs spread through the crowd of onlookers, the sheer intimidation of Oasis's presence leaving them paralyzed with fear.
"How can someone so young have this kind of power?"
Oasis stood among the carnage, his face calm, as if the slaughter of two dozen men was nothing but a minor inconvenience.
The aura around him was cold, dominating, and everyone present knew that they were witnessing something far beyond the realm of ordinary combat.
Oasis, the boy from Lunaris who had single-handedly decimated an entire squad of martial artists without breaking a sweat.
As Oasis turned his attention to the woman who had come with Pervard, fear took hold of her.
Her eyes widened in terror, and she opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
Her body trembled uncontrollably, and before she could muster any words, she collapsed to the ground, frozen in fear.
Oh, Oasis thought, his expression unreadable.
"No matter. I don't like those who reek of the blood of the innocent."
With a simple flick of his finger, Oasis unleashed a thin string of mana that shot from his fingertip like a piercing thread of light.
The string cut through the air in an instant, finding its mark.
It pierced the woman's heart, ending her life swiftly and without a sound.
She lay still, the terror still etched on her face as her lifeless body slumped further.
"Yoh, clean this mess up," Oasis said coolly, his voice calm as he glanced toward the remaining servants and guards.
The stunned onlookers snapped out of their daze, hastily moving to follow his command.
Bloodied bodies lay scattered across the hall, and they began the grim task of clearing the scene.
Without a second glance at the carnage behind him, Oasis walked toward the courtyard, where the sounds of clashing auras and heavy blows echoed through the air.
The ripples of power from Pervard and Riftain's fierce battle reverberated through Oasis's barrier, making the ground tremble beneath their feet.
Under the pale moonlight, the two men exchanged techniques.
Pervard's aura was a deep crimson, vicious and wild, while Riftain's was steady, glowing with a crimson hue.
Each strike they delivered sent shockwaves through the courtyard, but it was clear that the city lord held the upper hand.
His movements were precise, his attacks overwhelming, as Pervard slowly but surely faltered.
As Oasis emerged from the manor, Pervard's eyes caught sight of him.
Not a single scratch marked Oasis's body, and he showed no signs of exhaustion.
Pervard's face twisted in disbelief, his senses widening in desperation.
He reached out with his awareness, scanning the manor, only to feel the void where his lackeys had once stood.
His eyes darted frantically, realizing that every single one of his men had been killed—save for the one tied up and powerless.
What… what's going on here? Pervard's thoughts raced, his mind struggling to comprehend the devastation.
His breathing quickened, frustration and panic clouding his judgment.
His aura flared wildly, but it was no longer controlled—he was fighting out of pure rage now, his composure shattered.
He's lost it, Oasis thought calmly as he watched Pervard's aura spiral out of control.
The man who had once radiated arrogance and cruelty was now fighting with the reckless fury of a cornered animal.
Riftain, the city lord, spared a glance toward Oasis.
Why is the kid here? What about the others? He thought for a brief moment, but then his senses swept through the courtyard and the manor, and the truth hit him.
Every single one of Pervard's lackeys had been killed, the threat eradicated.
Relief washed over Riftain's face, his expression a mix of surprise and gratitude.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
His focus returned to Pervard, whose erratic attacks were growing sloppier by the second.
"Pervard, you die today, cocky bastard," Riftain growled, his voice filled with the authority of a man reclaiming his throne.