"We are here to arrest the red-haired individual suspected of being a member of the Red Brigade. Anyone who tries to stand in our way will face the full wrath of the Midnight Sun Clan!" the man declared loudly, his voice firm and authoritative.
"Oh look! Something bad," Grey gulped, his eyes widening as he stared at the men assembled before him.
"What is the meaning of this nonsense?" Yami asked, striding in front of his family, fists tightly clenched as he glared at the hundred men blocking their path.
"We have been ordered by one of the three Sunless Generals to arrest the red-haired individual here," the man with a yellow bandana said, stepping forward confidently.
"I know your rank," Yami replied coldly, his eyes narrowing on the man. "You’re one of the six Crescent Captains of the clan."
"I’m glad you understand our hierarchy. Then you should know better than to interfere with what we’ve come here to do," the captain said, gesturing for his men to move forward.
"No! You will not be taking Grey away from here!" Clarice shouted, positioning herself in front of Grey, her stance firm as she glared at the approaching men.
"Even knowing who we are and the power we wield, you still want to stand in our way? How foolish can you be?" the captain asked with a furrowed brow, eyes narrowed at the defiant woman before him.
"Call me whatever you want. Foolish, impulsive, reckless. But I won’t allow you to take Grey. Not now, not ever," Clarice said, her voice unwavering and her resolve unshaken.
"I tried doing this the easy way, and you refused. Now, we’ll do it the hard way," the captain said with a sigh. He snapped his fingers, and ten men immediately bolted straight for Clarice, who remained rooted in front of Grey, her posture unflinching and her gaze locked on the incoming attackers.
"You heard the woman," a booming voice echoed, and in the next moment, a solid kick landed squarely on one of the ten men’s chests. He was sent flying through the room, crashing into a window before tumbling outside.
A bulky man appeared in front of Clarice, his presence radiating strength. His hands were clenched tightly, and his gaze was like a wall no enemy could pass.
"Back off," Yami growled, directing a deadly glare at the remaining nine men.
"Yami Cromwell..." the captain muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. "You really shouldn’t have done that. Clearly, these guys are no match for you!" he roared before bolting straight toward Yami.
"Don’t let them take Grey. And most importantly, stop these bastards. But do not kill them," Yami ordered firmly. Then he charged toward the captain, the ground beneath his feet cracking under the sudden surge of force.
"You heard the captain! Let’s take down the redhead!" one of the men shouted, and the rest—ninety-nine in total—launched themselves at the small family with bloodthirsty intent.
"You’ll have to go through me first!" Clarice roared as she pounded her knuckles together, producing a loud metallic clang. One of the men appeared beside her, swinging his sword toward her head, but she leaned back swiftly and raised her forearm to block the strike.
The blade met her guard with a sharp metallic sound, and her knees buckled slightly under the force of the blow.
Just then, something small zipped forward at lightning speed and planted a solid kick on the attacker’s face, sending him skidding backward across the floor, crashing into a table.
"Ow! That freaking hurt," Millie exclaimed as she rubbed her shin in pain.
"Millie, watch out!" Clarice shouted, her eyes widening in alarm as the man she had kicked earlier regained his composure and charged straight at Millie, sword raised high.
"Cyclone Kick!" Vanessa called out, spinning swiftly before landing a powerful roundhouse kick to the man’s neck, sending him crashing into the ground with a dull boom.
"Vanessa, stay with Millie and protect her! Millie, remember, whenever you want to unleash your kick, swirl your Ki to your feet," Clarice instructed sharply. Without warning, she leapt backward, narrowly avoiding another sword swing aimed at her face.
With a burst of agility, she swirled her Ki into her palms, planted her hands on the ground, and pushed herself upward with explosive force, launching herself into a group of incoming men.
She landed with her leg raised, her heel smashing into one of the attackers’ heads, producing a resounding crack that echoed through the room like thunder.
"Told you—before you get to Grey, you have to go through me!" she roared fiercely, using the man’s head as a springboard to propel herself toward the next opponent.
Meanwhile, Grey stood frozen, stunned by the chaos erupting in front of him. His heart raced, eyes darting between the bodies and blades, unsure of what to do. That hesitation cost him, as three armed men charged toward him with fierce momentum.
"Terrorist!" one of them roared, swinging his sword in a vertical arc at Grey. Reacting quickly, Grey leapt back, the blade missing him by inches and crashing into the floor, shattering the tiles on impact.
Another attacker lunged from the side with a wide slash aimed at his neck. Grey instinctively pivoted sideways, narrowly avoiding the strike.
With a sudden burst of adrenaline-fueled speed, he charged at the third man just as the last one thrust a spear toward his abdomen.
"Shit!" he hissed, eyes wide, quickly clasping his hands around the tip of the spear. The force behind it pushed him backward, his feet dragging along the floor, scuffing the tiles.
’Come on!’ he roared in his mind, his jaw clenched tightly as he came to a sliding halt. His fingers tightened, muscles straining, his eyes now glowing with intensity.
"What’s with that glare? Tone it down!" one of the men shouted as he flipped in the air, attempting to land an axe kick on Grey’s head.
But in one fluid motion, Grey released the spear and grabbed the man’s leg out of midair. With a grunt of effort, he yanked the man down and slammed him into the ground with crushing force.
Dust and tile fragments burst into the air, swirling around Grey as his eyes shimmered with rising fury.
"We said tone that gaze down!" another voice bellowed. Four men surged at him, one swinging his sword from the side. Grey jumped back, but just then, a heavy kick struck his back, sending him stumbling forward—right into the path of a waiting spear.
"Fuck!" he growled, swirling his Ki instinctively to his abdomen. The spear collided with his stomach, a sharp clang ringing out followed by the harsh sound of fabric tearing.
Looking down, Grey saw the spear had burned a hole through his shirt, and worse, the tip was searing into his flesh. Smoke rose from the wound as the metal scorched his skin.
"You shocked? Well, don’t be," the man sneered. "We were ordered to bring you back dead or alive. And by the looks of things, you’ll be better off dead."
With that, the man twisted the spear violently.
"ARGHHH!" Grey screamed at the top of his lungs as the weapon burned deeper, piercing flesh and drawing blood. He dropped to his knees, the pain overwhelming, eyes wide in agony as the room spun around him.