Manaless Mage-Chapter 306: Silence

Squelch.

It sank into Sonny’s skull without resistance, stabbing clean through and exiting from the other side with a wet, grisly hiss.

There was no time for the boy to react, no gasp, no scream. Just a lifeless spasm, and then—stillness.

What followed was a sickening sound as the strange figure slowly pulled out his blade from the boy’s head.

Splrrtt.

Blood and fragments of bone and brain matter exploded outward, splattering across the ground.

But somehow, none of them came xllss to the hooded figure, and his coat maintained its thick, dark colour. freёnovelkiss.com

The lifeless body twitched once, then collapsed, a dark red pool rapidly forming around his head.

"No...!" Bonny’s hoarse voice rang out in anguish. "SONNY!!"

He trembled violently, his eyes glued to the corpse of his brother—his only family left in this cursed place.

His hands were shaking uncontrollably, the dried blood on his fingertips now mixing with fresh tears dripping from his chin.

His mouth opened again, but no words came out. Only a strangled breath. His throat burned with rage, pain, despair.

His mind reeled. That couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. He had just been talking to him earlier. Yelling at him. Fighting alongside him. And now...

Now he was gone.

Just like that, it was like a nightmare.

The killer didn’t even glance at the corpse, simply swiping the blood off his blade.

The silver blade slowly transformed back into his hand, and he hummed in satisfaction.

His work here was done.

But Bonny’s torment wasn’t.

Without warning, another cloaked figure appeared behind him.

This one was shorter than the first, but broader in the shoulders. His presence was heavier—ominous, like a storm cloud gathering in silence.

His footsteps were soundless, his body casting no shadow despite the flickering lights above. He raised his arm slowly.

Schlrrrk.

His hand contorted, flesh twisting as if made of clay. It reshaped into the same wicked, curved blade of silver—serrated and glistening.

Just like the last time, there was no glow, neither was there even a trace of mana... nor hunanity.

A cackle escaped his lips, a twisted blend of amusement and cruelty. "Sweet dreams," He whispered.

Then—

Shhhk!

The blade swept cleanly across Bonny’s neck.

A geyser of blood burst from the severed neck, spraying the floor and walls like a fountain.

Bonny’s eyes widened—his final expression one of utter disbelief. His mouth opened, no sound escaping.

Then—

Thud.

His head rolled from his shoulders, striking the floor with a dull, wet knock before tumbling twice and coming to rest—facing the ceiling with wide, lifeless eyes.

His body remained upright for a second, blood still spurting from the ragged neck like a broken pipe.

Then it collapsed.

A puddle formed beneath the body, mingling with the blood of his brother.

Two brothers. Two gifted Elementalists. Dead in under a minute.

Slaughtered like cattle.

Trent watched it all.

He couldn’t move, and his lips felt too heavy to even speak, talk less of scream.

But his body trembled.

Not from the pain. Not even from the lingering exhaustion.

His body was trembling because of something else... Fear.

His eyes were wide, locked on the bodies—one headless, the other disfigured.

The metallic scent of blood stung his nostrils, so thick it coated his tongue. He wanted to vomit, but even that took more strength than he had.

Anger burned too, deep in his gut. Anger at these killers. Anger at his weakness. Anger at the damn voice inside him that refused to speak now, when he needed it most.

The two brothers hadn’t been his friends. They hadn’t even been allies. Most of their interactions had been anything but friendly—harsh words, thinly-veiled threats, accusations. But still...

That didn’t mean he wanted them dead. Not like this. Not reduced to meat and silence on the floor.

He swallowed hard. His throat ached, and the bitter bile stung his mouth.

Slowly, desperately, he began to call inward.

"Come on..." he muttered under his breath. "Do it now. I’ll let you this time. Just... take over my body..."

However, there was no response.

Just the buzzing of the broken lights above. Just the laughter of the murderers.

His jaw clenched. "I said take over!" he growled, his voice hoarse, cracking.

Still nothing.

The silence from within was deafening. And worse—it felt intentional.

A third cloaked figure began walking toward him, casual steps echoing through the bloodstained room.

The way he moved was slow, deliberate, like a man approaching prey that had already accepted its death.

"I wouldn’t worry so much," the figure said with a tone of mock kindness. "We’d never hurt you. Kill you? Never. Not you."

But the smile beneath his hood—wide, twisted, and brimming with dark glee—told a different story.

Trent couldn’t breathe.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, panic setting in. His arms still wouldn’t respond. His mana pool was empty. His body was finished.

And the thing inside him—the being that had so often tried taking control at the worst moments—refused to answer.

He tried again. "Damn it—are you listening? Now! I’m letting you out, just do something!"

Still, nothing, not even a whisper.

Trent’s eyes narrowed in frustration.

’What a disappointment.’ He mumbled inwardly, biting his lips in annoyance. ’When I didn’t want you to take over, you force your way in. But when I finally need you—when I’m literally begging for you—you just vanish? What a joke.’

His nails dug into his palms—weakly, but it was the only motion he could manage. Blood trickled from the small crescent cuts.

The approaching figure was now only a few feet away, looming.

"You look confused," the man said, still smiling. "I suppose that’s natural. You’ve been through quite a lot. But don’t worry... you’ll come with us. In one piece. I promise."

Trent’s heart thudded louder. He could barely keep his eyes open now. The floor felt distant, as if he were sinking beneath it. The air thickened.

’I guess this is it... the end for me.’ He thought, clicking his tongue in annoyance. ’Damn those instructors, what the hell are they doing in a time like this...?’