Obsessed with a High-Ranking Esper (BL)-Chapter 314: Your issue is with me

Thaurion sneered, his fury boiling over. "Then watch your sons perish, starting with Jian Ci. I will tear that little bastard limb from limb, and I will make you watch."

Seraphyne’s eyes glinted, her tone mocking. "You would have to find him first."

Thaurion growled, his voice breaking into a roar. "Find that fucking brat!"

The guardians moved instantly, turning to leave the hall to carry out his command. But before they could step beyond the threshold, Stannis moved. He unbuttoned his uniform jacket with deliberate calm, stepping into their path.

He stood tall, imposing, his expression unfazed, his aura steady as iron.

Thaurion’s eyes narrowed, his expression turning cold. "Stannis... you dare defy me? I am your imperial lord."

Stannis did not speak. He simply stood there, a wall of defiance, his silence louder than any words.

Thaurion’s fury boiled over, his voice cutting through the hall like a blade. "Apprehend him!" The guardians surged forward, their weapons raised, but before they could reach Stannis, the other marshals moved. One by one, they stepped in front of him, forming a wall of defiance. Their faces were grim, their auras flaring in unison.

Thaurion chuckled, though the smile never reached his eyes. "I should have seen this coming. It seems all of you dogs have forgotten which master you serve. It seems I need to beat submission back into you."

His psychic power erupted, a storm of gold surging outward. The hall fell into chaos, the air vibrating with raw force.

Outside, the Vanguard fleets shifted. Their guns, once aimed at the Crown Blade, turned in unison now pointing directly at the imperial army. There was no need for words.

In command central, alarms blared. The general of the imperial army slammed his fist against the console. "What the fuck are they doing?"

The commander’s voice cracked with disbelief. "They are aiming the guns at us, sir."

Beside the imperial palace, chaos spread like wildfire. Noble families screamed as they were dragged from their homes, their businesses, even the streets. It wasn’t all of them, only those on the list. The ones who had been in business with Thaurion.

The abductions were live-streamed across StarNet, every moment broadcast for the Virelia to see.

The feeds showed nobles shoved into transports, their wealth stripped away, their power crumbling. The empire’s corruption was laid bare, undeniable.

Meanwhile in the palace,

Thaurion, wreathed in shimmering gold, sneered. The four Marshals of the Vanguards, stood defiant before him, their faces grim under the pallid light. But it was Stannis who drew Thaurion’s venomous gaze.

"Come now, Marshals," Thaurion’s voice dripped with contempt. "Was this the best you could muster? Pathetic!"

The fight erupted. Psi-blades, shimmering constructs of pure psychic energy, clashed in a blinding flurry. Thaurion’s Guardians, hulking figures clad in obsidian armor, moved to engage, but the remaining Marshals held them at bay. The true battle, the heart of the storm, was between Thaurion and Stannis.

Golden tendrils of psychic force lashed out, each blow capable of shattering stone. Stannis, with a grim determination etched on his face, parried with his own flickering blue blade.

He was skilled, yes, but Thaurion’s power was immense, amplified by years of ruthless ambition and a natural affinity for the golden psychic energy, a force both revered and feared.

Stannis was hurled against a wall of crystalline mosaics, the impact cracking the intricate artwork. Blood trickled from his lips. He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain. Thaurion’s sneer deepened, morphing into enraged fury.

"You dare defy me, Stannis? You dare persist?"

He unleashed a torrent of golden energy, a psychic tsunami aimed to crush Stannis utterly. The other Marshals cried out, struggling to break free, but it was too late. Stannis braced himself for oblivion.

But then, a surge of violet energy cleaved through the golden wave, scattering its power like dandelion seeds on the wind. Thaurion whipped around, disbelief warring with incandescent rage.

Standing in the grand doorway, his face a mask of icy fury, was Jian Rui. Violet psi-blades materialized in his hands, mirroring the father’s golden power but twisted with a burning righteousness.

"Finally," Thaurion hissed, a cruel smile stretching across his face. "You finally show your fucking face."

Jian Rui’s voice was a low, resonant growl that echoed through the throne room. "Your retribution has come, father."

His face etched with grim determination, he stood amidst a swirling vortex of violet energy. Psychic blades, shimmering with deadly light, orbited him like vengeful spirits. He advanced slowly, each step deliberate, towards his father.

Stannis, bruised and struggling to rise, choked out, "Rui... Don’t!"

Thaurion surveyed the scene with chilling amusement. "Rui," he echoed, savoring the name. "Oh, so you know each other intimately, do you?."

He raised a hand, a tendril of gold energy snaking out towards the vulnerable Stannis. "What if I just... kill him?"

Jian Rui’s jaw clenched. "Your issue is with me."

A cruel laugh echoed through the hall. "Fine and no interference is permitted."

"Fine by me," Jian Rui growled, though Stannis’s desperate cry of "Rui, no!" tore at him.

Thaurion unleashed his power. A tsunami of golden energy roared forth, dwarfing Jian Rui’s violet aura. Thaurion was undeniably the more powerful esper, but Jian Rui was fueled by years of suppressed rage, a burning inferno stoked by the memory of his mother’s suffering.

He fought with a ferocity that surprised even himself, violet against gold in a blinding spectacle of psychic warfare.

He managed to land a few blows. Thaurion stumbled back, a trickle of blood tracing a path down his cheek.

But Jian Rui was faring no better. His arm, twisted at an unnatural angle, throbbed with agonizing pain, yet he wore a feral grin, as if the pain were nothing.

"Here I thought you were a pathetic runt," Thaurion spat, wiping the blood from his face. "Turns out, you are... resilient."

"Father," Jian Rui said, the word dripping with venom, "I am your blood, after all."

Thaurion retaliated with a psychic blast that sent Jian Rui hurtling through the throne room doors.

Before he could recover, a single, massive psychic blade of pure gold materialized above him, pinning him to the ground by his throat. He looked up, kneeling before his father, defeated.