Chapter 21 Why are you still alive?
Emeka’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets the moment the guards dragged Vandal past him.
His face twisted with shock and raw hatred. “You are still alive! You look different... why is your hair white?”
He took a frantic step forward, his voice rising into a near scream. “How did you survive the Mawrot Essence? I watched you scream and vomit blood as the poison melted your organs from the inside! How are you still breathing?!”
Questions flew from his mouth like arrows. “Why are you here?!”
Gasps and murmurs exploded across the hall like wildfire.
Vandal’s forehead veins bulged. Memories flooded back: the burning pain of the zombie poison, the repeated lashes of the bladed whip tearing into his back, and the laughter of his tormentors while he writhed in pain. His blood boiled.
Shekini laughed sharply, her voice dripping with insults. “Clara, oh Clara... you really brought a spy into our sect? How fitting for someone who keeps collecting strays like a beggar woman.”
Yung sneered loudly. “So this boy is indeed a spy, probably sent here to infiltrate us and steal our secrets through Matron Clara.”
Clara’s expression darkened. “The boy is not a spy.”
“Do not speak, Clara,” Duncan cut her off coldly. “One more word and you will be branded as his accomplice.”
He turned his gaze toward Sabine. “I wonder if your daughter knows anything about this matter.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong. How can you charge him without evidence!” Sabine summoned every bit of courage she had and spoke out.
Shekini’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Her daughter has repeatedly tried to defend him. I believe she knows about this spy. I think she should be charged as an accomplice.”
“Leave her out of this!” Vandal shouted, his restraint finally snapping. “I’m no spy. His master tried to kill me!”
Seeing this, Emeka immediately decided to twist the entire narrative. “Yes, she is his accomplice, the one who helped him escape.”
“Liar!”
His berserker core responded to his anger. It roared inside his soul like an awakened beast, flooding his veins with violent, chaotic strength. His muscles swelled and tightened visibly, sinews bulging as if forged from steel cables. His small frame suddenly looked like a miniature wrecking ball ready to destroy everything in its path.
“Get off me!”
BOOM!
The two guards holding him were blasted away like broken kites. They smashed into the walls, coughing blood. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone floor beneath Vandal’s feet.
In one fluid motion, Vandal shot forward. His hand clamped around Emeka’s neck like an iron vice.
“Kk-! Errgh!” Emeka’s face turned deep red, then purple. He kicked and clawed desperately at Vandal’s arm, but the fingers around his throat refused to budge. It felt like trying to bend something utterly rigid. His legs gave out and he dropped to his knees, still held up only by Vandal’s grip.
Vandal’s skin flushed a deep crimson, making him look like a living tank covered in burning blood. Waves of pure, destructive Force Echo rolled off his body in visible ripples, warping the air around him. His solid six-pack was jutting out like miniature cinder blocks.
“What is this?” Duncan muttered, genuine shock flashing across his face for the first time.
From the enforcer section, the silent man watching everything whispered to himself, “That is pure Force Echo... I have never seen it used like this before.”
“Let him go. Now!” Duncan commanded, his voice heavy with authority.
Every elder and disciple in the hall felt their chests tighten. Many lower-ranked ones dropped to their knees, coughing blood.
Vandal remained completely unfazed. He continued squeezing Emeka’s neck, his fingers digging deeper. No matter how hard Emeka struggled, his punches and kicks landed uselessly, as if hitting a mountain. Emeka’s eyes bulged with terror. His vision began to blur.
In his final moments of consciousness, Emeka remembered the uneasy feeling he had when they first captured the boy, the foreboding that this runt would one day become a calamity.
His bloodshot eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.
Invisible threads of resonance entwined with soul essence surged into his body. His core peeled away in layers, like a shell unraveling, and released a concentrated flow of faintly golden energy.
“Kill...” Vandal muttered, clenching his fists until his knuckles cracked.
“Did he... break through?” Clara whispered, her shock reflected in the elders’ solemn faces. The shift was unmistakable: stage three resonance.
“Guards! Kill this boy on the spot!” Duncan waved his hand, a trace of anger flickering in his eyes. Even his powerful aura seemed to have no effect on Vandal.
The guards raised their spears and charged.
Clara swiftly pulled Sabine into her arms, clamping a hand over the girl’s mouth as she held her tight. Sabine writhed and struggled to break free, but Clara refused to let go.
“You cannot help him,” Clara whispered urgently.
The thin web of cracks on the stone bell spread rapidly as Vandal’s power surged.
CRACK-BOOOOM!
The ancient stone bell finally split into two large pieces and crashed to the ground with a deafening sound.
“Die!” the guards shouted as they lunged with their spears.
“Fuck off!” Vandal’s eyes turned completely white, pupils vanishing.
Inside his mind, the sealed book flipped open with a brilliant golden flash.
Nephilim Punching Arts - Volume One: First Form - Heaven Rending Fist.
Pure destructive Force Echo, devoid of any element yet brimming with shocking power, surged into his hands.
Phantom fists materialized in the air. The charging guards were struck simultaneously. The impact blasted them backward like dry leaves in a hurricane. They slammed into the walls, ribs shattering, and spat out large mouthfuls of blood.
Yung stepped forward with killing intent, but a man who was blindfolded suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking his path.
“Do not attack him,” the man ordered.
“But... why, Holy Father?” Yung asked, confused.
“I want to see something,” the man replied calmly. “No elder is allowed to attack him!”
“Why are you getting involved, William?” Duncan asked, a deep frown on his face.
“Do you not possess shame? Allowing an elder to attack a child? Where is your honor and dignity as a Holy Father?”
“But he’s a spy!” Duncan was shouting at this point.
“You have no proof of that. You only know about his torture and near-death, so how is that evidence of him being a spy sent to infiltrate our sect?”
“......” Duncan wanted to say something, but he had no retort.
“No elders are permitted to attack the boy.” William’s voice rang close to the ear of every elder, almost as if he were standing beside them.
The words echoed through the hall, reaching every elder present.