Rise of the Rejected Deity from Chaos-Chapter 59 - 58: The Bloodied Path to Freedom XII| Plans Set in Motion VIII

All eyes followed Seiya as he approached the orcs with casual indifference, their gazes widening in astonishment at his audacity.

Standing before the creatures, Seiya lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with an ominous light. His voice, cold and devoid of hesitation, cut through the tense air.

"Did you kill them all?"

The orcs responded with guttural grunts, their low growls reverberating.

Everyone’s shock deepened. Countless questions swirled in their minds—How was Seiya able to communicate with monsters? How did they seem to understand him? And why, instead of attacking, were they obediently standing before him?

Stillness hung in the air as they watched in disbelief.

Using his eyes, Seiya’s sharp gaze swept the surroundings, methodically assessing whether the task had been carried out as ordered. But then—his eye twitched. His eyes narrowed upon a looming figure, concealed behind a block high amidst the distant rubble. However, Seiya dismissed it, knowing he could handle it later.

Turning back to the orcs, his voice rang out, cold and commanding. "Form a straight line."

All eyes remained locked on him, the ongoing battle momentarily forgotten.

The orcs hesitated, their heads swiveling as they exchanged low, guttural growls of confusion.

But the instant they met Seiya’s piercing gaze—dark and brimming with the promise of death—they fell into formation without another sound.

Satisfied, Seiya turned and began walking back to where he had come from, the weight of countless stares following his every step.

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Reaching the spot where he had left it, Seiya crouched and retrieved his staff. The weapon, covered in crimson from blood, gleamed beneath the faint glow.

Straightening, Seiya raised the staff a little above him, holding it horizontally. The chain dangling from one end swayed gently behind him as he lifted it. With a single, swift motion, he hurled the staff forward with immense force and lethal precision.

Before anyone could process what was happening, the staff tore through the lined-up orcs, piercing their chests in a seamless line to the very last and crushing their cores.

For a moment, the orcs remained standing, frozen in place. Then, like ragdolls, they collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

The staff, having completed its deadly task, swerved sharply in mid-air, shooting through the air toward Seiya, returning to his hand.

A hush fell over the battlefield. No one moved. No one spoke. They simply stood there, bewildered and paralyzed by the sheer effortlessness with which Seiya had eradicated an entire horde.

Seiya, unfazed, strode toward the center of the hall. Raising a hand, he gave a slow, deliberate clap, drawing their attention.

"Enough with this now. Gather everyone—we’re leaving," he announced calmly.

The elite who had been battling the boys from the third floor grinned broadly, wisps of smoke curling from his overheated body. His wild eyes locked onto Seiya, alight with exhilaration—he had finally found a foe worth fighting.

Without hesitation, he surged forward, pressing a searing palm against Seiya’s shoulder from behind. His Awakened Ability with which he manipulates the temperature of his body and belongings, burned at full intensity.

Heat flared against Seiya’s body, steam rising from where the elite’s hand made contact with Seiya’s skin. Slowly, Seiya turned his head, his gaze meeting the elite’s wide, manic grin.

"Yo," the elite drawled, amusement lacing his voice. "You’re strong—and interesting. How about a little fall out?" His grip tightened, fingers scorching deeper as he watched Seiya with taunting eyes.

Seiya remained silent.

The next moment, before the elite could register anything, his hand that he had placed on Seiya was twisted sharply in Seiya’s grasp

His grin faltered, his eyes widening in shock. He hadn’t even seen Seiya move—hadn’t sensed the shift. The sheer speed, the effortless precision of it, sent a shiver of raw excitement through him. He grinned like a man possessed.

Irritated, Seiya turned abruptly, driving a devastating punch straight into the elite’s throat. The man doubled over, choking, blood spurting from his lips as his airways collapsed. His footing faltered, and he staggered back, hands clawing at his throat in a desperate attempt to breathe.

Seiya advanced without hesitation and closed the distance. Another blow struck the elite’s face, sending him hurtling backward, crashing into a heap of rubble.

But Seiya wasn’t finished.

Striding forward, he stepped onto the elite’s spread out arm on the floor and crushed it beneath his heel. There was a faint crisp snap but Seiya remained unmoved. With the same ruthlessness, he did the same to the other arm.

No one dared to intervene.

They could only watch, frozen in silent horror, as Seiya methodically broke his opponent. Fear gripped them too tightly to speak—to remind him that the elite was needed alive for the life-swapping ritual.

At last, amid the suffocating tension, a voice shattered the silence.

"Sei—"

It was Hayne, breathless and strained. His body drenched in sweat from overexerting his ability to slow Eiro’s deteriorating condition.

"…Don’t kill him…please," Hayne gasped, pleading between ragged breaths. "We need him alive—to save Eiro."

All eyes turned to him, astonished—not only by his audacity to speak but by the fact that he had dared to address Seiya directly.

Seiya, having paused to listen, averted his gaze before finally stepping away, leaving the elite barely clinging to life on the ground.

The bulky boy from the third floor approached Riena, who remained with Suhei’s lifeless body. His voice was gentle yet firm. "Riena, it’s time."

She didn’t move, didn’t respond.

"Please, Riena," he urged, his tone laced with urgency. "Time is of the essence—we have to save Eiro."

At last, Riena stirred. Carefully, she laid Suhei’s body down, her movements delicate, reverent. As she rose, her brown hair stirred faintly, her face streaked with dried tears, her bloodshot eyes hollow from grief. She didn’t spare the boy a glance, simply turning and walking past Hayne—straight toward Seiya.

The moment she reached him, she seized his shirt in a tight fist, her expression twisted with fury and anguish.

"If you could do this so easily… " Her voice cracked. "Then where—where were you when Suhei was fighting?!" she screamed, yanking at Seiya’s clothes, her grip desperate. Yet, no matter how hard she pulled, he remained unmoved.

"You defeated him effortlessly! But why now? Why now that Suhei is already gone?!"

The sight left the others stunned, their mouths nearly agape, panic flashing in their eyes. A cold wave of terror coursed through Hayne as he watched, his breath hitching, his eyes wide with fear.

"Riena, no—!" Hayne’s voice wavered with desperation, his hand shooting forward instinctively to stop her. But before he could finish his plea, a blur of motion cut through the space between them.

The ghastly pale senior with disheveled red hair lunged at full speed, seizing Riena and pulling her back in a swift, decisive leap.

Seiya’s hand, which had just begun to rise, stilled, lowering soundlessly to his side.

The red-haired boy landed with a scowl, his sharp green eyes glowing beneath his tousled bangs that veiled most of his face. His expression twisted with fury as he sneered,

"You bastard… don’t tell me you were about to strike a woman." His voice dripped with malice, his glare locking onto Seiya, ablaze with unrestrained rage.