Emperor's Reckoning - Chapter 1110: Because I Can Afford It!
Sylva’s shock was evident as she witnessed Drako managing to sneak behind the chaos and confront Lyon directly. She couldn’t hide her concern and exclaimed, “We’ve got to help him!”
But Thaedan swiftly intervened, placing his hand in front of her to stop her in her tracks.
“But Patriarch, he’s gonna kill him!”
With a knowing and wise expression, he shook his head and responded, “Not if he is what he said he is…” n))—/-.1–).I/-n
His words hung in the air, indicating that Thaedan might see an opportunity to expose Lyon’s true identity.
Lyon’s calm and enigmatic voice held a touch of gravity as he spoke to Drako. “You don’t understand, Drako. Your punishment for offending my wife was already decided, yet you brought your clan with you… to me.”
Drako, taken aback by Lyon’s words and his transformed appearance, couldn’t help but feel a shiver down his spine.
Despite the tension of the situation, Drako forced a confident grin as he retorted, “Heh, you think they’ll believe you? That I instigated the whole thing? Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re the weakest link in your own group, a fraud! Once I’ve defeated you, this battle will be over. The whole world will respect and bow to Wrymheart, and they’ll learn not to mess with Young Master Drako!”
As he spoke, the battle raged on around them, the clash of forces echoing throughout the realm.
Lyon couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Hahahaha!”
Drako, not fully grasping the situation, smirked, “Looks like you’ve lost your mind.” Unbeknownst to him, cold sweat formed on his forehead, his bravado shaken by Lyon’s reaction.
“Lost my mind?” Lyon raised an eyebrow. “You don’t understand the situation. I’m here to announce that I’m here so that a certain group will arrive, be they foes or friends. I gambled, Drako.”
Drako furrowed his brows. “So? Whatever objectives you have, it’s going to be fated unfulfilled.”
Elara, the perceptive one, had different thoughts as she handled the chaos in front. Her mind raced in thoughts, (It’s weird… why didn’t he explain that it was a lie that Drako propagated? At least once he should say it, and I will be the witness. Surely, my words bear weight, and they won’t lead to this battle… what he could possibly gain in thi—?!)
Then her eyes widened in horror of realization, “Don’t tell me…” Her skin crawled at the conclusion in her mind, but the split second of aversion was all it took before a claw descended toward her head.
Cecile used her tail to pull her away and made the elite miss the blindspot. “Careful,” said Cecile as she let out a flurry of thrusts using Hajinseh.
“Thank yo—” her gratitude was overshadowed by her shock as she saw Cecile’s face. “S-She’s excited…”
“Damn, fighting in this realm is not ideal for now, without the Devil Ape’s blessing, I won’t last this long,” said Cecile with a grin as the sword tattoo on her nape lit up. “But it’s so exciting!”
Lyon stepped forward despite being weaker than Drako. “You know, my wife said that this battle would be over once I could prove that I am the Zodiac Emperor, that I am Lyon Torga.”
“But you couldn’t, ’cause you’re a fraud!” said Drako.
“You think hitting the gong was going to prove my identity?” said Lyon with a smirk, “You’re dead wrong. Do you have any idea why you are able to go back to your clan in the first place? Because I let you.”
Drako stammered as he stepped back, “What..?”
“I needed a stage, Drako, an audience far and wide, the gong surely did its job and gave me one, but you and your clan just gave me a medium to prove myself, to prove who I am,” Lyon smiled.
“What? What are you talking about?” Drako was confused yet, Lyon’s tone made him tremble.
“Do you know why I didn’t even bother to realign the truth of the story of your fabrications, of how it came to be that I severed your arm? Not to your patriarch, not even to your progenitor, do… you… know… why?” asked Lyon as he smirked, governing Drako’s thoughts at his whim. Then with a cold voice, he answered, “Because I can afford your clan’s judgment.”
In that tense moment, Lyon’s voice pierced through Drako’s defenses, breaking the barrier of his resolve. The young master stood trembling, his confident fa?ade shattered by Lyon’s revelations. The weight of understanding what Lyon meant pressed down on him, forcing him to confront his own vulnerability. Fear crept into Drako’s eyes, seizing him as it had rarely done before, a sensation he had always eluded.
He mumbled with uncertainty, “Afford… our clan’s judgment?”
“You all think that coming here would be a testament to your clan’s might, but you’re wrong! Your clan IS the testament to my identity, Drako, I am the Zodiac Emperor – Lyon Torga!”
As Lyon’s words echoed through the chaotic battlefield, Drako felt his world crumble.
He was left stunned, unable to respond, as the enormity of the situation pressed down on him. His clan’s fate was hanging by a thread, contingent on Lyon’s intentions. Then, amid the tense silence, a figure dropped between them – the progenitor, lifeless and riddled with a gaping chest wound. It served as a grim confirmation of Lyon’s true intent, emphasizing that the annihilation of the Wrymheart Clan would indeed be the ultimate proof of his identity in the Second Realm.
The abrupt halt in the midst of the tumultuous battle was palpable, and a heavy silence hung in the air. All eyes were fixated on the lifeless form of the once-mighty progenitor, his demise accomplished without the customary devastation and destruction that came with the fall of a formidable figure. Kesya, who now dusted off her hands nonchalantly, had left a vivid trail of shock and fear in her wake, her actions defying the expectations of a grand battle.
Amid the gasps and whispers, the patriarch Ardan, his visage twisted in horror, was the embodiment of despair. He watched, helpless, as the embodiment of his clan’s strength lay lifeless before him, Kesya’s audacious act casting a grim shadow over their already dire situation.