Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Chapter 12: The First Confrontation

The big guy's sword swung towards Lucas with brute force, but Lucas parried the blow effortlessly using the large sword left by the hobgoblin. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the clearing, and the big guy stumbled back, taken aback by the sheer strength of the parry.

"You must be lucky," the big guy snarled, his voice dripping with disbelief and irritation. He steadied his grip on his sword, eyes narrowing in determination as he prepared for another strike.

Lucas remained silent, his eyes focused and unwavering, the flicker of a smirk playing on his lips. The big guy growled in frustration, feeling mocked by Lucas's silence. He lunged forward again, this time with more precision and power. "Power Strike!" he roared, his sword cutting through the air with deadly intent.

Lucas met the attack head-on, blocking the strike with a resounding clash. In the next instant, his sword began to crackle with thunder, blue arcs of electricity dancing along the blade. The big guy's eyes widened in horror, his bravado faltering. "It can't be... you're a magic warrior!" he exclaimed, his voice shaking with fear.

"Too bad you realized it too late," Lucas replied, his tone cold and mocking. His smirk widened as he felt the thrill of battle surge through him. With a swift, fluid motion, he slid his sword along the big guy's blade, sparks flying, before cutting through his neck.

The big guy gasped, dropping his sword as he clutched his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. His eyes were wide with disbelief, unable to fathom that he had encountered a magic warrior in this remote place. He staggered, his strength fading rapidly.

With his last breath, the big guy turned to his partner and boss. Blood bubbled at his lips as he forced out a hoarse whisper, "Run," he croaked, desperation and regret in his eyes. Then, his body collapsed to the ground, lifeless and still.

On the other side, the short man watched the scene unfold, his face contorting with a mix of fear and rage. "Damn it, to think he's a magic warrior," he spat, his voice trembling. His hands clenched into fists, but his bravado was quickly crumbling.

"Boss, we need to get out of here," the bodyguard urged, panic seeping into his tone as he grabbed the short man's arm. "He's too strong."

The short man, still reeling from shock, nodded numbly. His legs felt like lead, and he could barely muster the will to move. "Right... right. Let's go," he stammered, allowing himself to be pulled along.

But before they could make any real distance, Lucas's figure blurred, moving with the speed and precision of a deadly shadow in the dim light. In an instant, he appeared beside the fleeing bodyguard, his presence almost ghostly.

"Leaving so soon?" Lucas's voice was cold and mocking, sending a shiver down the bodyguard's spine.

The bodyguard barely had time to react, his eyes widening in shock. "Wha—" he started to say, but the words died in his throat as Lucas's sword sliced through his neck with lethal precision.

The bodyguard's hands flew up to his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood. He gurgled, his eyes filled with terror and disbelief. Blood poured through his fingers, staining the ground beneath him.

He staggered for a moment, his body fighting a losing battle against the inevitable. With a final, pitiful gasp, he collapsed to the ground, lifeless. The short man, who had been dragged along, tumbled beside him, eyes wide with fear.

Lucas straightened, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the short man. "You really thought you could escape?" he said softly, the menace in his tone unmistakable. "How pathetic."

The short man's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked up at Lucas, his eyes filled with sheer terror. "P-please," he whimpered, crawling backward in a futile attempt to get away. "I-I didn't mean to—"

"Silence," Lucas interrupted, his voice icy. He took a step forward, towering over the trembling man. The moonlight cast harsh shadows on Lucas's face, making him appear even more formidable. "Your words mean nothing to me."

The short man tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs betrayed him, leaving him in a crumpled heap. He sobbed openly, the realization of his imminent demise too much to bear. "Please... mercy," he begged, his voice barely a whisper.

Lucas's eyes narrowed, his smirk widening. "Mercy?" he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Did you show my sister any mercy in my past life?"

The short man's eyes flickered with confusion and terror. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he whimpered, desperately trying to scoot backward, but his body refused to cooperate.

Lucas took a step forward, his presence overwhelming. "You don't need to understand," he said softly, menace lacing every word. "Just know that this time, things will be different."

The short man sobbed, his fear evident. "I-I'll do anything," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

Lucas tilted his head, as if considering the offer. "Anything?" he echoed, his tone mocking. "Funny. I don't need anything from you."

He raised his sword, the blade gleaming ominously in the moonlight, casting a sinister glow over the scene.

The short man screamed, a high-pitched wail of pure terror. "No! Please, don't!" His eyes darted frantically, looking for an escape that wasn't there. But Lucas's face remained impassive, cold and unyielding.

Lucas's first strike was swift and precise, severing the short man's right arm at the elbow. The man's scream escalated, filled with agony. "Ahh! Please, stop! I'll do anything!" Blood spurted from the wound, staining the ground.

Without a word, Lucas moved to the other side, his expression unchanging. The short man tried to crawl away, but Lucas's boot pinned him in place. The second strike came down, slicing through his left leg just below the knee. The short man howled in pain, his cries echoing through the night. "No! Please, mercy!

Mercy!"

Lucas stepped back momentarily, his eyes cold and devoid of emotion as he observed the writhing, bleeding man. The short man was now a broken mess, sobbing and pleading. "I'll tell you everything! Please, just stop!"

But Lucas remained silent, his eyes hard and unrelenting. He brought his sword down again, severing the remaining arm. The short man's voice was now a weak, hoarse whisper, barely able to form words through the excruciating pain. "No... more... please..."

Finally, Lucas stepped around to the man's head, raising his sword one last time. The short man looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a final plea for mercy on his lips. "Please... don't..."

With a swift, merciless strike, Lucas decapitated the short man, ending his suffering. The body fell silent, the only sound the quiet dripping of blood onto the ground.

Lucas stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the lifeless body at his feet. He felt no remorse, only a grim satisfaction. Turning away, he knew there was still much to do to protect Lucy. This was just the beginning.