Evolution of the Ruined Heir - Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Slipping
“Trash like you deserves to die!”

In the next instant, the other two joined in, kicking Renlo without mercy. All he could do was raise his arms to shield his head as the attacks rained down relentlessly.

Crimson blood splattered across the earth. Renlo had long since activated Bloodflow to harden his blood and reduce the damage, but it did little to dull the overwhelming pain.

‘T-they want to kill me…’ Renlo thought in dread.

They were in the middle of nowhere. He had no backing. No one to look for him. No one to question his absence. No one to demand justice.

He was all alone.

‘M-maybe it’s better if I die…’ The dark thoughts crept in.

He had been too full of himself. A nobody who thought he could call a Vein his friend.

He had been delusional.

Renlo’s arms began to fall. His hope slipped.

But…

Images flashed in his mind.

He and Malakai sparring.

Malakai receiving his usual stale bread without complaint.

Their quiet walks to the gate.

The way they said goodbye, every single day, for over two months.

Renlo’s eyes snapped open. He gritted his teeth.

‘I-I was wrong!’ he screamed inwardly. His mouth parted.

“The Ninth Vein is my friend! I’m never giving him up!” he roared with all the strength left in his lungs.

But that only made it worse.

Kamin’s eyes flashed crimson as blood surged into his leg.

“Useless trash,” he spat.

He raised his foot and brought it down toward Renlo’s head, fast.

Renlo saw the sole of the foot fill his vision. Death’s chill crept through him.

But just before it landed…

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three brutal impacts echoed through the trees. Renlo’s eyes opened wide, Kamin and the other two were suddenly sent flying, smashing into a tree.

‘W-what happened?’

His trembling gaze shifted, landing on a figure now standing in front of him.

Renlo’s eyes slowly widened as he gazed at the broad back of the figure.

‘No way.’

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

The back was familiar, but it was the aura that Renlo recognized instantly. There was no way he could ever forget it. The chill.

‘W-what is he doing here?’

“Are you okay?”

Despite the situation, Malakai’s voice was colder than usual. Renlo could sense it, something different. Something he hadn’t felt in all the months of speaking with the Ninth Vein.

‘H-he’s angry.’

The anger wasn’t directed at him, yet Renlo still shivered.

“A-ah yes, N-Ninth Vein, wh—”

“Don’t move.”

Renlo had been trying to stand, but Malakai’s cold voice froze him in place.

Malakai turned slightly, locking eyes with the boy foolish enough to bribe a Vein with stale bread… and gave a single nod.

Renlo’s eyes widened slowly. There was no mistaking what that gesture meant:

Leave the rest to me.

He didn’t know when the tears began to streak down his bloodied cheeks. For once in his life… he wasn’t alone.

Malakai shifted his gaze away from Renlo and turned to the three youths, just now groaning as they fell from the tree they’d been lodged in.

The sides of their faces were deformed from Malakai’s earlier kicks. Blood drenched their bruised features as they struggled to comprehend what had happened.

The sound of calm, foreign footsteps rang out. Malakai walked toward them, silent.

Each step made their hearts pound harder.

“W-who’s that?” Kamin blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze in his eyes. He looked up and froze.

His eyes went wide.

“N-Ninth V-Vein!”

His words snapped the others out of their daze, and they trembled at the realization.

What was the Ninth Vein doing here!?

Kamin stood up shakily, forcing an ugly smile despite the blood on his face.

“W-we w-were just t-talking with our f-friend R-Renlo,” he stammered. “We meant no harm. Right!?”

He glanced at the others.

“R-right!” one of them echoed quickly.

“T-the Young Master is right, Ninth Vein,” the other added, voice trembling.

But Malakai’s steps didn’t stop. His expression didn’t change.

Kamin, sounding more desperate, pushed on, “We were just… just trying to teach him how to fight! Right, Renlo? Tell him!”

He shot a glare back toward Renlo, only to find him staring with unflinching eyes.

Kamin turned back, his mouth opening to beg again… but Malakai was gone.

Crack!

A sharp pain exploded in Kamin’s legs. His eyes dropped, and his breath froze.

His legs were twisted beyond recognition, kneecaps shattered, bones jutting out.

The pain came crashing into him.

“Aaahhhhhhhh—!”

But he didn’t even get the chance to scream properly.

A fist slammed into his chin, snapping it shut and cracking several teeth.

Malakai gave no respite. His fists blurred, raining down on Kamin’s face with heavy, brutal bangs.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Kamin could do nothing. His legs were gone, bones shattered. The only thing holding him upright now was Malakai’s relentless fists.

One final punch sent him hurtling through the air, rolling across the forest floor, painting it with streaks of crimson.

As Malakai’s gaze settled on the remaining two, their hearts collapsed.

He vanished from their sight, and in the next instant, the forest echoed with the brutal sound of fists slamming into flesh, bones cracking under pressure, and screams swallowed by pain.

A few seconds passed. Renlo stared at the scene before him with trembling eyes.

‘Damn.’

Malakai had been ruthless. He’d broken what Renlo was certain were all the bones in those boys’ bodies, dishing out a level of punishment that looked like pure torture.

Renlo shivered.

‘I really hope I’m his friend…’

He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever that was.

‘I’ll have to work harder… maybe give him more bread.’ he resolved silently.

Malakai slowly raised his fist dripping in crimson blood. He had just finished pummeling the last of the youths.

His gaze shifted, and locked onto the one he considered their leader.

Kamin.

“Who sent you?” Malakai asked coldly as he began walking toward him. He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

Kamin’s gaze trembled. If regret was a person, it was him.

“N-no! M-my f-father is a H-highblood!” he stammered, attempting a threat. But when he saw that it had zero effect, Malakai’s expression not even twitching, his body began to shake.

He tried to crawl away, feeling both panic and dread overwhelming him, but…

“Suit yourself,” Malakai said coldly.

Shhnk.

The sharp sinnn of a blade slicing through air echoed across the forest as Malakai drew his scythe from its hold.

He picked up his pace.

Kamin’s eyes stretched wide, tears leaking down his bruised face in pure terror.

But just before Malakai reached him, a figure suddenly stepped in between them, wearing a small, relaxed smile.

“That’s enough.”

Malakai paused, tilting his head slightly as his cold gaze focused on the newcomer.

The Eighth Vein.

Julius Von Sanguine.