“You never have.”
As Malakai’s cold words dropped;
“You bastard!” Khana screamed, her face contorting with fury as the clearing descended into chaos.
Malakai’s gaze flashed, his crimson eyes narrowing as the world seemed to slow around him.
He saw it.
The trembling in Khana’s hand as her grip on the dagger tightened.
The vein pulsing violently in her temple.
The tense set of her jaw as her fury overtook her reason.
The coiled tension in her legs as she prepared to lunge.
He had visualized this constantly in his mind.
He saw everything.
Before his mind could fully process it, his body moved instinctively.
As Khana’s dagger shot forward, a streak of silver aimed for his face, Malakai leaned back sharply, his torso bending almost unnaturally as his head tilted just out of range.
The dagger sliced through the air, missing by a hair’s breadth.
No hesitation.
His right leg whipped upward in a flash, impacting Khana’s face.
A cloud of powder and rouge exploded from her face as her overly applied makeup scattered into the air. Her head snapped to the side, her body spinning from the force before she was sent flying across the clearing.
She crashed to the ground with a dull thud, rolling twice before coming to a stop.
Silence.
The kind of silence so thick it felt like a scream.
All eyes turned toward Khana’s crumpled form. The two maids stared, their mouths slightly agape, their wide eyes darting between Malakai and the fallen woman.
Jorge froze in place, his trembling hands clenched at his sides, his jaw opened in disbelief.
Khana had been struck.
By him.
An unevolved.
Malakai stood still, his gaze cold and steady as it settled on her.
“Mistress!” Jorge’s voice broke the silence, and he hurried toward her. But even he hesitated, stopping just short of touching her. The wife of a Pulse couldn’t be handled without permission.
Khana’s hands trembled as she pressed them to her cheek, her breaths ragged. Her gaze darted around in disbelief, as if reality itself had fractured.
That unevolved trash…
Her fingers came away wet with blood. She stared at the crimson staining her hands, and her vision seemed to blur. She saw red.
“You… worthless scum,” she muttered, her voice a low hiss that was filled with fury.
The air shifted.
Malakai’s muscles tightened, and he lowered his stance, bracing himself against the weight bearing down on him.
‘She’s using it.’
The people were shocked that Malakai had been able to land an attack on Khana, despite it being just one blow.
But while the others were in shock, Malakai knew the truth. The only reason he had landed that strike was because she had been caught unaware and hadn’t activated her power.
Vita, the energy released from the death of darkness creatures, had streamed into humanity, triggering a profound transformation. It restructured their bodies on a fundamental level, turning them into evolved beings.
It not only strengthened their physical abilities, enhancing speed, strength, and endurance beyond natural limits, but also unlocked the ability to control various aspects of their bodies.
The evolved could manipulate elements of their physiology, such as bones, muscles, cells, or nerves, granting them powers unimaginable to the unevolved.
Among them, the Sanguine clan stood as a lineage revered for their control over blood, a vital force of the body that granted them unparalleled power.
This ability made the Sanguines one of the overlords of the dome, their influence and power unquestionable.
Khana, however, was not a true Sanguine by blood. She had married into the clan and lacked their unique ability to control blood.
Yet, even without such power, the gap between an evolved like her and an unevolved like Malakai was as vast as heaven and earth.
Khana’s aura erupted like a dam breaking, flooding the clearing with crushing pressure. Gravity intensified, forcing the two maids to their knees. Jorge staggered back, his expression turning serious.
‘She’s coming.’
Malakai’s gaze sharpened as the ground beneath Khana cracked from the force of her power.
“No one… no one touches me!” she screamed, her voice shaking the air itself.
She moved.
Malakai’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen it, her movement. But he felt it, the tingling cold sensation that washed down his spine.
Danger.
Both his arms shot upwards, crossing them in front of him as a brutal blow slammed into him like a battering ram.
His arms cracked audibly as the brutal punch connected, the sheer force of it snapping bone and ripping through muscle.
His body shot backward with terrifying speed, slamming into a tree. The impact sent splinters flying, its bark caved in.
Malakai’s head slumped forward, and a thick mouthful of blood spilled from his lips, painting the ground below.
But before he could recover, Khana was upon him.
Her nails had grown long and razor-sharp, gleaming like wicked claws in the dim light. She slashed at him with fury, each swipe tearing into his flesh.
Blood sprayed into the air with every strike, painting the scene in crimson.
Malakai’s arms were crossed tightly in front of him, shielding his vital organs as best he could. The nails raked across his forearms, slicing deep into the muscle, but despite all this, despite the intense pain he was feeling, he made no sound.
Not a single groan escaped his lips. His eyes remained open, placid, sharp, and locked on Khana’s rampaging figure.
Khana’s face twisted in fury as her strikes grew faster, more brutal. Her claws blurred, rending flesh and muscle, each attack driven by her overwhelming hatred.
“Why won’t you scream?” she hissed under her breath, her voice trembling. “Why won’t you beg?!”
Malakai’s bloodied arms were shredded, hanging limply by his sides, but his gaze remained locked on her. It was like he wasn’t even registering the pain, like her attacks were nothing but a mild annoyance.
Khana’s anger peaked, her breaths ragged and shallow. She hated those eyes, those unmoved, emotionless eyes.
Malakai was weak, an unevolved wretch. He should be groveling, trembling in fear, begging for mercy. He should have crumbled under her might. But instead, he stared at her with a placidity that burned in her chest like molten iron.
Her movements became wild, her nails slicing faster and deeper.
She wanted to break him.
She would break him.
