Boom!!
The sound was not the shattering roar of an explosion but rather the dull murmur of a smokescreen unfurling, like a dark veil draped over the battlefield. Thick smoke coiled through the air, dust swirled like restless spirits, and debris lay strewn across the ground.
The leader's eyes darted through the shifting haze, searching, his voice cutting through the murk, "You can't escape, Lucian!" His words were a challenge, a dare. With a swift movement, he cast a spell that scattered the choking fog, slowly peeling away the curtain of darkness. As the view cleared, the twisted shapes of destruction took form.
A figure appeared near the war puppet, speaking in the leader's own voice, a whisper delivered with cruel precision into the puppet's ear, "Shatter your ears and strike down the man before you, no matter if he wears my face. He is a mere copy, a pale imitation. Recognize me by my voice alone."
There was a cold cunningness in the voice; it was unmistakably Lucian.
The puppet obeyed, driving a blade into its ears with mechanical indifference, and lunged at the leader with fierce intent.
The leader's face twisted into a snarl, his voice trembling with fury, "Well played, young master Lucian!" The words dripped with bitterness as he watched his own puppet turn against him.
The wounded man tried desperately to communicate, gesturing with frantic signs, but the puppet was unmoved, its mind clouded by the spell and its ears deafened by its own master's command.
Lucian did not remain idle, his hands never still. With swift, deliberate movements, he hurled small explosives towards the leader, forcing him to dodge repeatedly. Each explosion, though small, sent sharp waves of sound and force that rattled the air.
The leader was reminded of thunder—each detonation like a storm breaking over him, and he gritted his teeth, anger burning in his chest like a slow, consuming fire. He took out a small paper form his robe.
He tore a small paper from his robe, ripping it into pieces, and as the fragments fell to the ground, a faint green glow enveloped the puppet's body. Yet, it pressed on, undeterred, with a single-minded ferocity that belied its mortal wounds.
The puppet's final strike found its mark; the blade bit deep into the leader's flesh then the puppet body fell without a life.
Leader staggered back, a strangled cry escaping his lips as blood seeped from the wound. "This puppet… it cost me a fortune." he spat, each word weighted with venom. "And you… you made me destroy it. Not only that, you've used my own pupprt to wound me."
His voice grew softer, almost a growl, "But this injury is nothing. I still have the enoguh strength to kill you…" His sentence was interrupted abruptly as yet another bomb landed at his feet, casting up a cloud of dust and fire.
Boom!!
Emerging from the smoke, the leader's form was battered and broken, his body bearing the scars of the encounter. His clothes hung in tatters, streaked with blood and soot. Yet there was a fire in his eyes, a rage that seemed impervious to pain.
He searched for Lucian, scanning the battlefield, and saw him fumbling with his storage ring. Realization dawned with a cruel twist—Lucian's explosives had run dry.
Seeing his chance, the leader charged at Lucian, his steps heavy but determined. Lucian sidestepped the attack, but the leader's blade still found purchase, sinking into Lucian's knee.
Pain shot through him like a lightning bolt, but Lucian's laughter echoed in the clearing. "You think you caught me?" His voice was mocking, even as agony throbbed through his leg. "I let you do that."
The leader's eyes narrowed, his mind racing as he noticed a dagger buried in his other hand. But before he could process the scheme, a cold, piercing pain erupted in his chest. He gasped, his strength ebbing away like sand slipping through fingers.
He turned, struggling to see through his dimming vision, and glimpsed a figure emerging from the shadows, cloaked in darkness.
"You… you were dead?" he choked, disbelief and despair mingling in his voice. "How? When… was I tricked all along?" His words faded, swallowed by silence as he collapsed, his life extinguished.
Lucian's gaze lingered on the figure, a faint smile touching his lips. "Perfect execution, sister." he murmured, his voice weak as exhaustion threatened to overtake him. His body swayed, and he began to fall, but Leora was there, catching him before he could hit the ground.
As she cradled her unconscious brother, a swell of pride mingled with a deep, aching sorrow. She marveled at his brilliance, his cunning mind, but it could not erase the heaviness that had settled in her heart.
She felt as though a vast weight was pressing down on her, an invisible hand squeezing her chest, robbing her of breath. Her clan… her family had been reduced to ashes, scattered like the smoke that still hung in the air. All of it had happened in the span of a single, brutal day. It was too much for a nineteen-year-old girl, who had already lost so much.
As she looked at Lucian's unconscious form, tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. She had saved him, but she wondered if she truly deserved to. The weight of her earlier betrayal hung over her like a dark cloud.
She could not shake the feeling that, in some way, the cost of her survival would always be paid with Lucian's suffering. The thought twisted inside her like a blade, making each breath a struggle.
When Lucian finally stirred, the world came back into focus. He winced, the pain in his knee flaring as he attempted to rise. "Sister…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. She leaned closer, hearing the faint remnants of sadness still lingering in his tone.
"You've always been so strong. I've always admired that about you." he said, his words laced with both truth and irony. "But sometimes… strength means knowing when to ask for help." The look in his eyes was not one of reproach but of understanding. It was not Kai who said this they were true feelings of real Lucian.
Leora's heart ached at his words, and she wished she could turn back time, undo the choices that had led them here. She wished she could be the sister he deserved, untainted by doubts and desperate bargains.
As they lay there amidst the remnants of battle, the night deepened, wrapping the cave in shadows. And in that quiet darkness, there was a flicker of something unspoken—a fragile hope that, perhaps, together they could rebuild what had been shattered, even if the pieces no longer fit the same way.
...
A few hours earlier
After entering the cave, Lucian had barely begun to voice his concern, "Sister, why did you entered the cave…?" when his words were abruptly cut off. The dull thud of an explosive echoed from the cave entrance.
Without hesitation, Lucian dashed towards the farthest corner, every instinct screaming at him to escape. Yet when he glanced back, his heart sank. Leora stood frozen, her eyes distant, as if trapped within her own thoughts.
Guilt clawed at her conscience like a relentless beast. '"I tried to kill my own brother. How could I even think of such a thing? Was my desire to survive so desperate that I'd betray him?"' Her thoughts tormented her, each one like a shard of ice driving deeper into her mind. And then she saw it—an explosive, rolling ever closer into the cavern's depths.
She moved before she could think, her legs propelling her forward with a desperate speed. Pouring every ounce of spiritual energy into her limbs, she pushed herself beyond the limits of her strength.
When she reached Lucian, she channeled the last of her power into a protective barrier, wrapping it around them both like a shimmering cocoon. Her voice trembled, heavy with regret, "I'm so sorry… I've been a fool, risking your life for my own."
The admission tore at her, each word a confession of her shame. In her gaze, Lucian saw a depth of sorrow he had not expected, and it stirred something within him—an old wound, a memory from a previous life he had long since buried.
'If only I had been granted such fortune.' he thought bitterly. In his heart, envy and love waged a quiet war, each fighting for a claim over his emotions.
Boom!!
The explosion reverberated through the cave, a deafening roar that shook the very earth. Dust filled the air in thick clouds, and the world seemed to spin in slow motion. As the debris settled, a heavy silence followed, interrupted only by the ragged breaths of the only one peson full of blood.