Chapter 2: The Fall Of A God "Where is your master, dog?"
Lucian didn’t flinch.
"He is right here."
The voice came from behind the rubble. Boots clicked against steel. Five silhouettes emerged through the smoke—armored, cloaked, armed. The one in front, tall with white-blond hair and a jagged scar over his left brow, walked like he owned the world.
Garrick.
Lucian turned, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk.
"No longer hiding, I see." He tilted his head. "Well, congratulations. You actually pulled it off. Poisoning me? Clever. If I were in your shoes... I’d do the same. After all..." He stepped forward, dragging his fingers through his hair, blood dripping from his fingertips. "...being in my shadow must be exhausting."
Garrick’s eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched.
Lucian kept going. "You remember, don’t you? All those years, standing behind me like a pet. Watching. Failing. Trying to catch up but always being two steps behind. People never even said your name unless I was in the room."
Garrick’s hand twitched near his blade.
"And now, after all this time, you grow the courage to strike." Lucian’s tone dropped, calm and sharp. "But not with honor. Not face to face. No. You had to slip something into my system like a rat."
"You bastard," Garrick hissed.
Lucian’s voice turned cold. "What’s worse than a weakling, Garrick? A coward. And that’s what you are. A spineless coward in a borrowed coat of pride."
With a howl, Garrick blurred forward.
His blade flashed—twice.
Lucian sidestepped both with ease, his body swaying like smoke. He spun, slammed his elbow into Garrick’s spine, and kicked him forward into the dirt.
The others moved instantly.
One—Volge, the red-haired brute—unleashed an earth-shattering punch at Lucian’s back. The ground cracked from the sheer force.
Lucian’s eyes flicked gold. Time slowed—Chrono Perception. He sidestepped again, twisting under the punch, and drove his knee into Volge’s ribs. Bones crunched. The giant wheezed.
Another attacker—Kael, the one with shadow daggers—came in from above. Lucian snapped his fingers. Black flames erupted upward like serpents and devoured the shadows. Kael screamed, his weapons disintegrating mid-air.
Lucian leapt up, rotated mid-spin, and kicked Kael into the side of a broken tower. Stone exploded.
"Pathetic," Lucian muttered. "All that buildup and still this weak?"
Garrick roared, eyes glowing with lightning now.
"I’LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT!"
He activated Stormbreaker Pulse—his body covered in crackling armor of plasma and lightning. His blade surged with force, and he shot forward like a railgun.
Lucian dodged left, but the poison pulsed through him. Just for a second. A delay. His shoulder got nicked—just slightly.
He staggered.
Garrick saw it.
"Finally," he grinned. "Not so untouchable now, are you?!"
Lucian steadied himself. His hand trembled, but his eyes burned even darker.
"That was your one."
With a snap, twelve Lucians blinked into the battlefield.
Each copy carried a different aura.
One shimmered with lightning. Another radiated ice. A third crackled with gravity distortion. A fourth floated in the air, eyes glowing as he manipulated dozens of aether swords in orbit.
They attacked all at once.
Kael tried to vanish into the shadows—only to get skewered by a blade that vibrated through dimensions.
Volge raised his fists, bracing for impact—but a Lucian using Void Arms shattered his defense and punched a crater into the earth with his body.
Another of the lackeys tried to cast a barrier, screaming an incantation—but was swallowed whole by a spatial rupture and erased.
Only Garrick remained standing.
Covered in wounds. Chest heaving. Aura flickering.
Lucian walked toward him.
Step by step.
The clones merged back into him with silent flickers.
But his steps were slower now. His breath rougher.
The poison. It was spreading.
"You... bastard..." Garrick muttered, clutching his side. "I... I had to... I had no choice..."
Lucian stopped a few feet away.
"Yeah," he whispered. "You did. But that’s why you’ll always be less. You needed poison. You needed numbers. I only needed ten percent of myself to humiliate you."
And then he moved.
Fast.