Welcome to the Innocent World - Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Clash of Shadows

The air crackles with tension as the seven Shadow Mystics square off against Luci’s Alliance warriors, each a formidable opponent marked by the sinister red symbol glowing on their arms. The chamber becomes a storm of energy as they lock eyes, readying for battle, the silence taut as a drawn blade.

In the next heartbeat, the chamber explodes into chaos.

Beta is the first to move, launching herself forward with a feral grin, her claws flashing as she twists through the air. Her opponent—a towering warrior with a jagged scar down his face—swings a massive warhammer, but she dodges with a twist midair, landing behind him and slashing her claws across his back.

“You’re too slow, big guy!” she taunts, sidestepping as he whirls to face her, fury in his eyes. He raises his hammer, but she’s already gone, a blur of speed and precision.

Alpha and her foe clash head-on, their swords clanging with a powerful metallic scream that reverberates through the room. Sparks fly as their blades meet, each of them pressing forward with intense focus. The Alliance warrior, with piercing eyes and a smirk to match, sneers as he matches Alpha strike for strike.

“Shadow Mystics, huh?” he grins, taunting her. “I thought you’d be stronger.”

Alpha’s eyes narrow, her focus sharpening. “I don’t need strength to deal with you.” With a swift sidestep, she ducks under his swing, her sword flashing in a perfect arc as she spins, slicing through his arm. The Alliance warrior staggers back, clutching his wound, but Alpha gives him no time to recover. She moves in again, faster than he can follow.

Meanwhile, Gamma’s opponent—a woman with cat-like agility—lashes out with lightning speed, her claws aimed at Gamma’s throat. Gamma dodges with a quick, graceful pivot, then counters with her dagger, slashing toward her opponent’s legs. The woman snarls, dodging, her cat-like eyes narrowing as she studies Gamma.

“You’re going to have to be quicker than that,” Gamma taunts, spinning her dagger with practiced ease.

Her opponent hisses, lunging again, but Gamma meets her with a countering slice, the sharp crack of her dagger splitting the air. Shadows ripple as she moves, darting in and out of the woman’s reach, each clash a flash of silver in the dim light.

“Shall we pick up the pace?” Gamma smirks, sidestepping another clawed swipe before delivering a powerful kick that sends the woman sprawling.

Delta is locked in a deadly dance with his opponent, an agile swordsman with a deadly smile. The two circle each other, their movements swift and precise. Delta’s dash cuts through the air in blinding arcs, forcing his opponent back step by step. Lightning crackles along the edge of Delta’s hand, illuminating her intense gaze.

“Not bad,” his opponent admits, smirking as he raises his own blade.

Delta lets out a dark chuckle. “If you think this is my best, you’re in for a nasty surprise.”

With a powerful thrust, Delta’s strikes with a burst of lightning that sends his opponent crashing into the wall, leaving scorch marks in his wake.

Around me, destruction erupts as the remaining Shadow Mystics battle Luci’s twisted creations.

Walls crack, floors shake, and the chamber fills with the clamor of clashing blades, lightning strikes, and the echoing screams of combatants. The intensity of the battle sends shadows dancing across the walls, and the air itself feels thick with power.

As I watch my Mystics handling their foes, I turn my gaze to the doors behind which Luci had disappeared. His retreat doesn’t sit well with me—cowardice, hiding behind his soldiers while spouting grand visions of power. He should be here, fighting for his so-called revolution.

I step onto the stage, pushing forward toward the doors. But just as I reach the threshold, the air shifts, and I feel the faint echo of footsteps all around me.

Suddenly, multiple figures emerge from the shadows, each identical to Luci. His clones materialize, stepping forward in perfect synchronization, their expressions unreadable, their movements a mirror image of his calm arrogance.

One of the clones steps toward me, arms crossed, smirking. “Going somewhere, Zero?”

I don’t answer. My hand tightens around the hilt of my sword, and I let my aura flare around me—a dark, powerful energy that fills the air, casting a shadow over the clones.

They attack, rushing forward as one. But I don’t need to look at them to know their fate.

In a single fluid motion, I raise my sword and swing, a powerful arc of dark energy slicing through the air. The blade carves through the clones, scattering them into flickering wisps of smoke before they can even draw close.

“Too boring..” I said, without sparing them a second glance, I stride forward, pushing open the final door.

I step into a darkened hallway, the air colder here, as if the very essence of Luci’s ambition had seeped into the walls. The silence here is different, heavy and tense, filled with a feeling of unseen eyes watching. I press on, my grip firm on my sword, my mind focused on the promise I made to myself: Luci will pay.

“Is running away a part of your revolution?” I taunted walking straight in silence where even the water droplets could be heard that fell from the ceiling.

The hallway stretches into shadow, but just as I reach the end, a familiar voice echoes in my mind. A soft voice, filled with an edge of sorrow that doesn’t belong here. It’s Athlea.

My steps falter slightly, and I close my eyes, her face filling my mind. She has no idea what Luci truly is, what he’s been hiding from her, and what he’s done in her name.

But right now, I have my mission. I open my eyes, refocusing, and press forward.

The air thickens, and I push open the final door, prepared to face whatever Luci has in store. But instead of a battlefield, I find only darkness, an empty silence that feels like the calm before the storm.

————-

Meanwhile, far from the chaos of our battle, somewhere in the coastal town of Latros, a figure steps off a small ship at the port. It’s Athlea.

Dressed in a travel-worn cloak, she holds her head high, her expression one of quiet determination. The salty sea breeze tugs at her hair, but her eyes are sharp, scanning the horizon as if she’s searching for something—no, someone.

The ship’s captain looks at her, concern flickering in his gaze. “Are you sure this is where you want to be, ma’am?”

Athlea nods, her voice steady. “Yes, this is the place. Thank you for helping me out.”

The captain hesitates, sensing the weight of her words, but he doesn’t press. With a nod, he watches as she walks off, her figure fading into the bustling crowd of the port.

Athlea doesn’t waver, her gaze fixed forward. She’s driven by a purpose she barely understands but feels in her bones—an unshakable sense that something is wrong. That Luci is hiding something from her, something far darker than she could ever have imagined.