The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 479

The screams of Kael's army echoed through the city as they slaughtered their way forward. Resistance crumbled. Fear spreads like poison.

By the time they reached the inner district, bodies were piled high, and the streets ran red.

That was when two figures stepped forward.

"Kekek… Out of all places, did you really choose this one?" one of them laughed coldly.

The second crossed his arms, eyes sharp and cruel. "How can one be so idiot, or did you really not know this place is guarded by two S rankers?"

The surrounding soldiers pulled back instinctively, fear crawling into their eyes.

Kael wiped blood from his face and stepped forward.

He pulled out his sword and laughed.

"You are misunderstanding something."

The two S rankers frowned.

"I chose this place precisely because I knew that you were here."

The air seemed to tighten.

Before they could respond, Kael moved.

The ground cracked as he surged forward, sword blazing with killing intent. His aura exploded outward, crushing weaker soldiers to their knees. The first S ranker barely raised his weapon before Kael's blade slammed into him, sparks flying as power collided.

The second jumped back, shouting a curse, and charged from the side.

Steel clashed.

Shockwaves tore through nearby buildings.

Kael fought both at once, his movements sharp and relentless. Every strike carried the weight of death. The city trembled as their battle raged, the screams of war continuing all around.

...…..

Gare stood at the front, eyes calm but sharp as blades. The battlefield before him was chaos, but to him it looked like a board filled with pieces waiting to be moved.

"Hold the center," Gare ordered, his voice steady. "Second line, pull back three steps. Archers, do not fire yet."

The soldiers hesitated for a breath, but his confidence was infectious. They moved exactly as told.

The enemy surged forward, thinking the retreat was weakness.

That was the mistake.

Gare had learned from old wars, from tales of Odysseus and from ancient eastern battle records. You never met force with force when you could meet it with the enemy's own arrogance.

As the enemy pressed in, their formation stretched thin. Their front pushed too fast, while the rear lagged behind. The moment that gap appeared, Gare raised his hand.

"Now."

The left wing suddenly turned inward, not attacking but locking shields. At the same time, the right wing stepped aside, opening a narrow path straight through the center.

The enemy shouted in triumph and rushed into the opening.

Then the trap closed.

Spears rose from hidden angles. Soldiers who had pretended to fall back suddenly surged forward, stabbing upward and sideways. The enemy front was crushed between tight walls of steel.

Panic spread among the enemy ranks.

"Rear, advance," Gare said quietly.

The second line moved forward, sealing the enemy inside a killing box. Screams filled the air as soldiers were cut down with no space to retreat or regroup.

"This is not a charge," Vic muttered. "This is a burial."

On the flanks, Chris and Handle were already fighting with everything they had.

Chris roared as he smashed his shield into an enemy soldier's face, then slashed across another's chest. Handle moved beside him, sword flashing in wide arcs, cutting down anyone who came too close.

The two sides clashed brutally, bodies slamming into one another. Armor cracked, bones snapped, and blood sprayed across the ground. The impact of each collision felt like waves crashing head-on.

Then the air changed.

A heavy pressure rolled across the battlefield.

The stone wall behind the enemy force shattered as a powerful figure stepped forward, his boots crushing rubble beneath him.

"Hmmm," the man said, cracking his neck. "You have quite a number of B rankers. That gives you an edge, however…"

He scanned the field and laughed loudly.

"I am not seeing any S rankers. Hahahaha!"

His laughter carried power, pressing down on the soldiers and making their legs tremble.

"Who needs an S ranker for a moron?" Vic said as he stepped forward, wiping blood from his mouth.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Uhh, you are quite close to breaking into S rank," he said calmly. "Too bad you met us."

Vic grinned and rolled his shoulders.

"Yeah, too bad for you."

He rushed forward.

The brawler met him head-on, fists wrapped in heavy gauntlets that gleamed with runes. Their first clash sounded like iron smashing into stone. Vic was thrown back several steps, boots carving lines in the dirt.

The brawler followed instantly, punching again and again. His fists moved fast and heavy, each blow strong enough to shatter shields.

Vic blocked, dodged, and twisted, but one punch slipped through and sent him flying.

He crashed into the ground, coughing blood.

"Guys," Vic shouted, forcing himself up. "Come out. We need to handle this."

Gare, Chris, and Handle moved at once.

They surrounded the brawler from four directions, blades raised. They attacked together, timing their strikes carefully.

BANG!BANG!BANG!

The brawler moved like a storm.

He ducked under one blade, slammed his elbow into Chris's ribs, and spun to backhand Handle with terrifying force. He grabbed Gare's wrist mid-swing and threw him aside like a rag doll.

All four were sent flying, crashing into the ground.

The brawler stood straight, rolling his shoulders as if warming up.

"This reminds me of old wars," he said calmly. "Too many weak men relying on numbers."

He stepped forward and struck again, fists flying. Each movement was precise and brutal, like a master who had fought thousands of battles with his bare hands.

He smashed through guards, kicked soldiers aside, and crushed weapons with raw strength. It felt like watching a monster wade through children.

Seraphina's expression changed.

Her hands trembled as she stepped forward.

"You can't win," she shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

"We know," Gare shouted back, struggling to his feet. "That's why you are here. Use your boost."

Seraphina nodded.Her eyes hardened.

She raised both hands.

Holy power erupted from her body.

The air shimmered and her body started glowing.

SWIISSHH!

A pillar of light descended from the sky, engulfing Vic, Chris, Handle, and Gare.

Their bodies glowed with a warm, overwhelming force.

Chris stood up slowly, eyes wide.

"Woah," he said, flexing his fingers. "I feel so light, yet so powerful. Is this the effect of holy power? Ahh!"

Handle clenched his fist, feeling strength surge through his veins.

Gare took a deep breath, his injuries fading.

Vic laughed and wiped the blood from his face.

"Now this," he said, "is more like it."

The brawler stared at them, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Ahhh, this is cheating," he shouted angrily. "Bastards. What is a person from the Holy Nation doing here? And who is she?"

"A Saintess," someone shouted.

"Wasn't she kidnapped by the Abyssal sect.."one of them spoke with disbelief.

"Fuck you liars…"

"She is just a Saintess candidate, you dumb head," Vic roared as he charged forward.

"Don't lump her with the weak Saintess who can't even defend herself and got kidnapped,"Chris added.

Hearing this, Seraphina for some reason felt attacked.