Ron had more or less expected Tuck's death.
In fact, Tuck himself had been certain of it. The moment he joined Nightfall, sided with the Revolutionaries and set out to kill Oster, his fate had been sealed. Ron, viewing him as half a friend, respected Tuck's decision. Tuck loved his homeland enough to sacrifice his life for it.
Still, Ron couldn't help feeling it was a waste. With Tuck's talent and potential, if he had left the Saheilta Union, he could have led a very different, promising life. But the world is full of regrets—Meteor City, the Talis Kingdom, the Kurta Clan, Heaven's Arena… So many stories cut short. Tuck, in the end, chose the path he believed in; an easier life wasn't what he truly wanted.
Memories of working with Tuck came to Ron's mind.
"Let's hope Tuck's death nudges the Saheilta Union even a little toward the future he hoped for.
"I should step up my plan here, too."
Ron glanced up. At some point, the sky had grown dim, thick clouds gathering overhead.
A flicker of lightning in the clouds, followed by steady rainfall. Soon the downpour intensified.
Meanwhile, at Oster's estate, the ground was littered with bodies and severed limbs—so many that the blood had pooled into rivulets. At least a few hundred people lay strewn about, mostly Oster's guards but also several from Nightfall.
Oster stood atop a high vantage point, gazing down at the carnage.
"They underestimated me. Sending so few to kill me? How naive."
A steward was busy counting the bodies.
"Looks like we're missing one."
"Yes, my lord. We know eight members of Nightfall came in, but we've only found seven corpses. One is nowhere to be seen."
"Which one is missing?" Oster asked, eyes narrowing.
Before long, Oster arrived where the Nightfall corpses lay. Tuck's body was in a corner, battered beyond recognition—his defensive abilities had forced him to the forefront, making him take blow after blow. Now he was so mutilated there wasn't a patch of intact skin left, the remains resembling hammered meat on a butcher's block.
Even so, Tuck's eyes retained a bright, hopeful shine, still showing his longing for a better future for this country. Oster's face twisted in scorn.
Nearby lay a pink-haired girl with twin pigtails, her entire chest blown open by a massive hole. It was obvious from her final expression that she died in utter shock, never imagining it would end that way. Oster remembered her—an extremely dangerous sniper whose first shot he'd neutralized at once, killing her outright.
Then there was a black-haired young woman, missing her head entirely. Oster's blade had cut straight through her neck. Even after being beheaded, her body still looked like it had been about to strike back, though that final swing would never come.
A green-haired boy lay sliced clean across the waist. His bones were snapped, but his flesh still connected the halves, leaving his body bent double like folded bedding. Nancy lay face-up on the ground, pinned there by an enormous pair of scissors driven through her chest and into the earth. They looked like a giant nail impaling her.
One white-haired youth—the leader of Nightfall—had his arms and legs violently torn off by Oster, reminiscent of a drawn-and-quartered execution. He had given Oster trouble for a while, especially aided by his comrades, so Oster dispatched the others first. Then he tortured the Nightfall leader at length, well aware he could have killed him sooner but preferring to drag it out.
"And Nesli?" Oster asked, glancing at the butler.
The man nodded. "Yes, my lord. According to our info, that's her name."
"I remember ripping her in two. You're sure you didn't see a body? It's not like she could've survived that, unless her ability's that special."
Nightfall had been annihilated, and seven corpses proved it, missing only Nesli's. Oster wasn't overly concerned. If somehow Nesli did escape, he'd only be interested in how that was possible—maybe she possessed an intriguing ability.
"Any word from the Herd?" he asked.
Oster's face clouded with worry.
"No word at all? Don't tell me they still haven't found Ron? Or… did something go wrong? Is it possible Ron even beat them?"
A prickling sense of foreboding gnawed at him. If the Herd had located Ron, they would have checked in by now. Silence likely meant disaster.
"How is that whelp so strong? Or does he have allies?"
His brow furrowed deeper.
Just then, Tuck's vacant, hopeful stare seemed to mock him, and Oster kicked the body in irritation. Aura gathered around his foot, which he slammed straight into Tuck's head.
The neck snapped cleanly. Tuck's head soared into the air like a ball, bursting midflight—red, white, and yellow matter splattering everywhere. Some landed on the butler, but he didn't dare flinch. Oster was clearly in a foul mood. One misplaced reaction and the butler might become the next victim.
Dying could be the kinder outcome.
Suddenly, a phone vibrated. Oster pulled it out, arching an eyebrow.
"At last. The Herd must've succeeded. I knew they'd handle it better than those Three Hounds or Four Beasts…"
But the moment he read the message, his expression changed drastically.
"How could this be…?"
In a flash, Oster vanished.
-----------------------
You can read up to 120 Advanced chapters!