Grand Ancestral Bloodlines

Chapter 111: Flip

Ryu's fists came down in an unending torrent, he seemed possessed, yet his actions were incredibly controlled. If not, how could a mere Middle Pulse Opening Realm expert like Silas survive for so long.

"Back away, or I'll kill him."

Ryu didn't need to look back. He had calculated the amount of time it would take for Silas' protector to reach him. Considering they knew Ryu was blind and could still pull all of this off, they were smart enough to know that it didn't matter that his back was faced to them. If they stepped out of line, he would kill their Crown Prince without hesitation. There was no room for negotiation in his voice.

Just like that, a carefully laid out plan went up in smoke. This was the very definition of what it meant for the largest fist to speak the loudest. Silas had been very confident in himself, but in the end, none of it mattered even the slightest bit.

Silas' cries of pain and horror were unceasing. Minutes ticked by continuously without Ryu showing any signs of letting up. Even as his lungs screamed for him to take a break, his fists continued to fly forward.

This moment for Ryu wasn't just about revenge. With every satisfying fist that landed, he felt more and more disconnected from this life and more and more willing to leave it all behind.

However, even as he forgot this life of his, Ryu was leaving Silas an unerasable memory. When he awoke from this, a cripple for life, he would remember that night he laughed at Granny Miriam's death, that night he treated the kind soul of an old woman as a prop for entertainment.

Atticus, who was watching this scene unfold in the distance, felt his heart tremble. How could he not know what had enraged Ryu? He had been even more terrible than Silas that night… While Silas had only chuckled once and said practically nothing, he had drawn the picture of an old cougar lusting after young meat. If Ryu treated Silas like this, just how was he planning on treating him?!

At that moment, Atticus felt as though his soul had left his body. He knew he couldn't face Ryu, or else he would end up even worse off than Silas. But, how could he concede his round either? If he as a Crown Prince did something so cowardly, his father would never allow him to ascend to the throne. The impact on their Kingdom's Faith would be too severe…

"Please, stop! That's enough!" The Viri Kingdom Commander called out to Ryu, almost pleading for him to stop. This was far too much. Silas' voice didn't even call out in agony anymore, all anyone could hear were faint whimpers. This wasn't because Silas didn't want to call out, but rather because his vocal cords were so badly damaged from his screams that they struggled to produce even the sounds that they did.

Ryu didn't seem to hear those words at all. Silas' broken and bruised body could only lay limply, accepting Ryu's rage. To him, it felt as though not a single bone in his body had survived, the pain was unimaginable. Yet, what made the situation worse was the level of humiliation. He had stood atop of the world since the day of his birth, when had he ever experienced such a situation?

Headmaster Leopold didn't know how to feel watching his disciple being treated in this way. Of course, he was aware of how black-hearted Silas was, but at the end of the day, he had raised him up from the time he was a toddler until now. No matter how bad of a person he was, this was simply too difficult to watch. In the end, he could only turn away.

As the two-hour mark slowly ticked to an end, Ryu's assault finally slowed.

He stood in a crater of Silas' making. Having pummeled him into the ground so continuously, the Viri Kingdom's Crown Prince had acted as a spearhead that now sat badly mangled.

Ryu's head tilted up and into the skies, his breathing so ragged and fierce it billowed with a scorching heat. Even in the moderately warm night air, it looked as though he was breathing fire.

"Next." Ryu's voice was laced with murderous intent, grumbling through the battle arena. He didn't seem to realize just how horrifying his actions were. From beginning to end, no Prince had suffered such tremendous injuries. In fact, even when Ryu and Amory had their battle, Ryu went incredibly easy on his First Brother, only rebuffing him continuously until the time limit came to an end. Who could have expected anything like this to happen?

Ryu turned without another word. Gliding by the Viri Kingdom warriors as though they were nothing more than air. What did their anger have to do with him? He couldn't care less.

King Viri didn't have the face to complain. If he did so, would he not only be acknowledging that his son was inferior, but also that their Viri Kingdom couldn't take a loss in stride? If anything, his silence actually helped their plight.

As the minutes trickled by during Ryu's beat down of Silas, the crowd began to speculate just why Ryu had lost himself in anger. In the end, they concluded that he didn't like the fact Silas had slighted him during the second trial. This sort of conclusion made Ryu come off as a petty man who couldn't take the slightest resistance against himself in stride.

"He thwarted Prince Silas' plot in the second trial, why did he have to do all of this?" Members of the crowd couldn't help but ask themselves.

At that moment, Ryu's image as an underdog they wanted to root for took a flip. He suddenly became a spoiled, albeit talented, Prince who threw a temper tantrum for the smallest thing. As the crowd grew more rowdy, Tor Kingdom citizens suddenly thought about how horrible it would be to have a King like this and began to clamor for the rules to be changed as well.

Headmaster Leopold felt a headache coming on. The shift in public perception was so swift that even he began to feel some pressure. But, when he looked toward Ryu, hoping that he'd say some words, Ryu didn't seem to be listening at all.

Prince Atticus could only slowly prepare, hoping that the crowd's pressure could aid him. The cold sweat matting his back only seemed to grow with each passing second. It was as though a gaze was trained on him. No matter how he moved or shifted, he couldn't escape it.

Seeing that they weren't getting their way, the crowd began to chant Prince Atticus' name.

"Beat him!", "Take him down!", "Wipe that smug look off his face, Prince Atticus!".

Every word was like another nail in Atticus' coffin. His carefree, lustful gaze became clouded by fear. As he watched Prince Silas' broken and mangled body being carefully carried away, he felt like he was seeing a glimpse of the future.

In the end, he had no choice but to step forward himself under the cheers of the crowd.

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