The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 94: Rifts: Ruby blood

The Saints continued to battle amongst themselves, each fighting to get to the drop of ruby liquid that now hovered in their midst.

If, before at the first black rift, they had been cautious, because they were unsure of what they might face, this time, there was no such hesitation.

What they wanted was right before them. Hovering in their presence as if declaring: Only the worthy may take.

Before it, they felt imperfect in every sense. It was like bringing a pig farmer to stand before a sovereign. And yet, they could feel a path to perfection within it.

They had been Saints for a long time, many for over a hundred years, some even hundreds more. To ascend, one needed to kill. But with the already fragile balance of the world, should a Saint kill another Saint, the entire planet would descend into chaos.

The Crimson family were the only ones lucky to have been in a position that helped them kill other Saints during the attack. And since no race wanted to claim being the perpetrator, no one could fault them.

It wasn’t that Saints cared about the world itself, but rather about the state of their interests. If everything went kaboom, the foundations of their power, wealth, and influence would be swept away by the winds of war.

A bird in hand was always better than two off in the woods.

"Requiem: Lyre’s Song!" one shouted, activating a skill to gain an edge.

She wasn’t alone. Many others followed suit.

"HELL SING!!" a gruff voice bellowed, just before its owner swung a massive axe in a savage arc. Blood sprayed into the air, the blood of Saints decorating the sky.

But the most devastating impact was on the earth. Cities were wiped out in the blink of an eye. Tremors rippled across the land. In the next moment, earthquakes erupted across Andreía.

Lives were harvested like weeds, and the ground became a sea of scarlet and crimson, with flesh and body parts swimming like fish in its depths.

What was more shocking was that the Saint behind it was an orc! Andreía being a continent of orcs.

But that wasn’t the only anomaly. In fact, it couldn’t even be considered odd. With a direct chance to gain an edge over other Saints, no one would hold back, not even if it meant sacrificing their own family for power.

The true oddity was the crazed expressions on their faces. The same crazed look Menelaus had shown... something that was now becoming increasingly common across Ares.

Some had already gone beyond mere madness... their pupils slowly fading, the whites of their eyes becoming dominant.

With every life lost, dynamis grew denser, and the planet’s gravity ticked higher.

Unawakened babies, the elderly, and the ill died in droves. From the weaker awakened, those with crippled foundations or collapsing dynisis roots, perished too.

And as they kept dying Ares kept growing stronger.

Amid the battle, none noticed the distortion drifting through the air, moving steadily, even within the chaos of their unleashed energies, until it reached the drop.

Though it appeared to be blood, it was ruby in color, unlike the usual crimson or scarlet. It also shimmered like a gemstone.

Suspended there, it silently absorbed the Saints’ blood in continuous streams.

Then it suddenly vanished.

The phantom that had approached it... plummeting straight down to the bloodied body of a boy below.

---

Kallen’s eyes flashed open, his crimson pupils shining with an intense light.

His bloodied body seemed to come alive, turning into a ravenous fiend as it devoured everything and anything around it.

Menelaus watched in suspense, his heart thumping faster with each passing second.

’Was it a success?’

But then his blood suddenly chilled.

All the explosions in the atmosphere... had suddenly came to a halt.

He raised his head shakily, only to see the Saints staring directly down at them, and his legs nearly gave out.

His eyes darted among them, trying to find the Saint who had promised to help him.

’Why did they stop fighting so suddenly?’

Ultimately, he failed in identifying him or her, and his worst fears came true.

Kallen, on his part, wasn’t doing a good job of staying covert.

Decisively, Menelaus gripped the knife and lunged for Kallen’s throat, only to be rebuffed so hard his wrist snapped on impact.

---

The Saints were still fighting when the prize suddenly vanished, and the fog lifted from their minds.

A tense silence followed as they sized each other up.

"Who got it?" one of them growled.

He wore a black fur coat and looked as pale as a vampire; blood-red lips, sharp canines to match... but the key difference lay in the long white bone horn protruding from his head.

It curled backward like braids, a stark contrast that highlighted his inky black hair; thick and viscous like tar.

A Saint of the Onyx race—one of the two apex races of Ares.

No answer came. Who would be stupid to tell if they had gotten it?

Each Saint scanned the others, reading expressions, auras, Wills, even dynamis imprints, searching for any change that would help them pinpoint who the benefactor was.

Their attention was quickly pulled away, when they felt an intense pull on dynamis coming from below.

Instantly their Wills pressed on the earth with all its might.

Scanning the floors, they stared long and hard, even deep into the earth. They could feel it, but they were unable to actually find anything.

So, they did the most logical thing... each of them launched a deadly attack, the kind that could one-shot another Saint if caught unguarded.

Was it overkill for all of them to unleash Saintslayer-level attacks?

Maybe, but not unwarranted.

Menelaus felt his bones rattle as he was rebuffed, and a gasp of pain left his mouth at his broken wrist.

He spine suddenly tingled as an overwhelming and intense feeling of danger, overrode all his mental faculties.

Without even looking, he knew what was behind it, his brain already registering death and he immediately passed out.

BOOM!!!

The explosion connected heaven and earth, and the shockwave tore through Andreía, reaping lives by the millions.

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