Chapter 58 Someone he never expected
The voice hit Vandal like a hammer made of every scream he had swallowed in chains.
Master Kennedy.
Vandal’s eyes met his, and the old poisoner’s eyes widened in recognition. It was the same calculating cruelty Vandal remembered from the forest camp, from the bowls of black Mawrot essence forced down his throat, and from the laughter as his organs melted.
Memories crashed over him in a red wave: the whip, the chains, the girl in the shit-filled cage who was now in his arms, Emeka’s grin, the spiders, and even the burning pain that never quite killed him as it slowly rotted his insides. He remembered how the thing inside his eye had feasted on the poison and allowed him to survive.
Vandal’s left eye flared with a thin crimson ring as his emotions surged.
“You…” His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “You heartless vile stain…”
“I never forgot what you did to me. Every day I imagined what would happen when I saw you again.”
Rage, pure and unfiltered, the kind he had buried under training and calm visage, exploded through his berserker core. The air around him distorted with violent Force Echo energy.
He made sure to lower Sabine gently to the ground with surprising care, his eyes never leaving Kennedy. The tension in the air rose abruptly. The atmosphere shimmered with his rage.
“Vandal, who is he? What did he do to you?” Yazmeen asked, but Vandal did not reply. His entire attention was locked on Kennedy. Every sinew of muscle, every strained expression of disbelief on the old man’s face fueled his fury.
Sensing the palpable tension, the king and his short guards stepped forward instantly.
“Stranger! No fight in clan home!” the king barked, motioning sharply. Four stocky warriors moved to restrain Vandal.
They never got the chance.
Vandal’s free hand lashed out in a blur. The nearest guard flew ten meters and crashed into the shallow stream. The second and third met the same fate, knocked aside like children by a casual shockwave. Vandal then turned fully toward Kennedy.
“You tortured me. You fed me your filth. You laughed while I was in pain. Remember what I said.”
“I promised to kill you.” Vandal’s expression burned with murderous desire. This was a side of him his group had never seen, and it was ice-cold and terrifying. Even Mael did not dare to speak.
Each word was colder than the last. “Today, I think I would like to fulfill my promise.”
He flash-stepped forward, his fists already gathering chaotic force around his knuckles on instinct.
Kennedy’s face twisted in panic. He smashed a vial of strange liquid against his chest and wove rapid water signs. A perfect watery double of himself materialized just as Vandal’s fist descended.
BOOM!
The body double exploded into watery sludge that splattered across the short king’s guards. The real Kennedy was already sprinting away, robes flapping, disappearing deep into the jungle.
Vandal roared in fury and gave chase, leaving the stunned short clan behind.
He ran like a man possessed, white-streaked hair streaming, his left eye burning with a thin crimson line in the pupil as he tracked Kennedy’s resonance signature.
Kennedy was fast for his age. He used water echo bursts to propel himself and create distance, but Vandal was steadily gaining on him.
“Vacuum Hammer!”
Vandal launched his fist forward, creating a vacuum blast, but Kennedy abruptly turned a corner, causing the formless fist to smash into a tree and break the bough instantly. Kennedy saw the destruction and swallowed hard.
“Since when did that brat become so powerful? A few months ago he couldn’t even fight me,” Kennedy grumbled as he ran with every ounce of strength he could muster.
Vandal burst through vines and ferns. Kennedy took out another vial with a pained expression. He seemed heartbroken to use it. He threw it onto the path Vandal was taking. The plants came alive, twisting together to block his path. Some tried to grab his ankles while others attempted to wrap around his moving body.
Then Kennedy turned to face the plant blockade he had created. With a resolved expression, he took out two more vials and threw them at the plants, causing them to mutate. They grew bigger, more aggressive, and developed sharp thorns.
Satisfied, he used his water echo to leap out of the thick outgrowth and landed on ground that had suddenly changed.
“I know this place. I will seek refuge there. Perhaps the traps will act as extra insurance in case that freak breaks free,” Kennedy thought. He looked at the suspended stone pavements forming an intricate maze. Surprisingly, the path was already clear. Usually the traps would be hidden, but he didn’t care. He chalked it up to luck.
Breathing hard, he stepped onto the stone path. He didn’t notice the subtle lines beneath his feet. He only saw safety in the complex layout and kept running deeper.
Deeper in, near what looked like the temple entrance covered in overhanging vines and twisted plants, he finally entered. Looking far ahead, he saw the familiar altar that usually emitted light and ran toward it. But as he neared the altar, he noticed a solitary figure kneeling motionless on the cold stone floor.
Head bowed, back straight, completely still. The posture was unnervingly perfect, almost ceremonial. The person’s clothes were soaked in blood. Upon getting closer, Kennedy noticed that one of the figure’s hands was a bloody stump, yet he had placed it together with the other hand as if praying.
“This must be a crazy person. How did he bypass the traps?” Kennedy asked himself. He debated whether to call out or run past him and grab the crystal.
Another thought entered his mind. Maybe he could use the crystal to force the short people to open the barrier for him so he could escape. He regretted how he had ended up here in the first place searching for that crystal, but he had grown to like the strange life and abundance of resources for making poison. Now that the kid was here, he knew it was either kill that boy or die trying.
He finally approached the altar and looked at the pedestal where the crystal was supposed to be. His eyes bulged. It was gone!
“You! Look at me! Did you take the crystal?” Kennedy asked the figure, but got no response.
“Hey! I am talking to you! Don’t make me beat it out of you!” Losing patience, Kennedy walked over and grabbed the bloody, sweaty scruff of the kneeling person’s neck.
The kneeling person slowly lifted his head.