The amount of damage dealt by the Air Cannon Barrage was so overwhelming that Denji’s state deactivated immediately after. His height shrank back to its original baseline, his muscles receding as well, leaving behind a body riddled with wounds, blood steadily dripping onto the cracked earth beneath him.

His strained breathing echoed faintly across the crash site, uneven and labored, carrying just far enough to be heard within the surrounding area.

Standing nearby was an unfazed Floki. His gaze rested calmly on the dozens of guards surrounding him, their spears and lances raised, their voices overlapping as they shouted at him to step away from their baron.

Floki ignored them. Without urgency, he retrieved a mid-grade healing potion, then flicked it toward Garrick, who was just managing to steady himself on his feet.

Only after that did he turn fully toward the guards.

Two of them had seized Deborah, holding her tightly as leverage. Their grips were firm, their eyes sharp with desperation, already aware that they stood no chance against him in a direct fight.

"Step away from our Baron... and we’ll let her go!"

The man’s voice came out strained, his spear tip pressing closer to Deborah’s neck as if to reinforce the threat.

Deborah struggled against their hold, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw trembled. She forced her head up, locking her gaze onto Floki as she shouted, her voice raw and unrestrained.

"Don’t let him go, Baron Floki! Kill him!"

There was no hesitation in her tone. No regard for her own life.

As long as Denji died, nothing else mattered.

’This level of hatred... he really deserves it.’ Floki concluded silently.

He could not claim to be a righteous man. He fed his people lies when it suited him, and more than once, he had chosen paths that benefited himself over them.

Even so, he had never directly led his people to their deaths, nor had he come close to doing so.

Denji, on the other hand, was something else entirely.

Even today, he had openly killed two of his own.

’At this rate, taking his people won’t be difficult,’ Floki thought, a faint smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"Why are you smiling?"

One of the guards snapped, irritation sharpening his voice.

How could this man defeat their Baron and still stand there smiling? It felt wrong. Disrespectful.

Unease began to creep into their thoughts. Who exactly was this man? Someone strong enough to crush their Baron, yet calm enough to treat it like nothing. Even the knights had fled.

Logically, they should have done the same.

They knew the gap between them and even the weakest Wayan knight was vast.

But they could not run.

Each of them had sworn an oath, one that would claim their lives the moment they abandoned their Baron.

The knights had not been bound by such a restriction. That was why they could retreat.

Floki, unaware of the nature of their oath, dismissed them as nothing more than stubborn fools clinging to blind loyalty.

He might have spared them. Eventually, they would have become his followers anyway.

Unfortunately for them, they had chosen to threaten Deborah.

Before the four guards restraining her could react further, Floki moved.

He released a smaller, controlled version of his wind spell, shaping it with precision as he fired an air bullet toward all four simultaneously.

The attack was invisible. Silent. Lethal.

There was no warning.

Before any of them could register what was happening, it had already struck.

Their bodies jerked sharply, a compressed impact rippling through them, as though the air itself had been forced through their flesh.

The attack did not burst outward like a typical spell. Instead, it pierced straight through, slicing cleanly through armor, bone, and muscle before dissipating behind them like a fading breath.

For a moment, everything froze.

The four guards remained standing, their expressions locked in place, their grips still tight around Deborah as if nothing had changed.

Then, almost in unison, their fingers loosened.

Their weapons slipped free, clattering against the ground. The metallic clang rang out sharply in the sudden silence.

Deborah collapsed forward with them, her knees striking the ground as she sucked in a desperate breath. Instinct took over as she scrambled away, dragging herself across the ground to put distance between herself and the men who had just held her captive.

Behind her, the guards swayed.

Then they fell.

One after another, their bodies hit the ground with heavy, lifeless thuds.

Only then did the damage reveal itself.

Clean puncture wounds marked their torsos, followed by a delayed surge of blood that spilled across the grass of the duel arena.

Silence settled over the battlefield.

Cold. Heavy. Absolute.

The remaining guards felt their throats tighten, their earlier aggression dissolving into quiet dread.

None of them had seen the attack.

None of them had sensed any buildup of mana.

One moment, their comrades were alive.

The next, they were corpses.

Floki lowered his hand slowly, his expression unchanged, as though what he had done required no effort at all.

His gaze passed over the remaining guards.

They stepped back instinctively. Their formation broke without a single command.

"Now," he said, his tone steady, almost indifferent, "does anyone else want to negotiate?"

No one responded.

The question did not feel like an offer. It felt like mockery.

Several guards lowered their weapons without realizing it. Others still held on, but their hands trembled, their resolve already gone.

Floki’s faint smile returned as he beckoned Deborah closer with a small motion of his hand.

He had promised the women their revenge.

At least one of them needed to witness it.

The punishment he had in mind required an audience.

To establish his dominance... and his cruelty, he needed more than just a few survivors.

He needed all of them.

By now, Garrick had recovered enough after consuming the potion. His body was still far from fully healed, but he had regained sufficient strength to move and act. Even in his current condition, the guards of Wayan posed no threat to him.

"Garrick, take these guards with you. Send them back into town. Gather everyone and bring them here. Tell them to pack their belongings. They’ll be coming back with us."

"Understood."

Garrick bowed briefly before turning toward the guards.

They wanted to refuse. It showed in their expressions, in the slight tightening of their grips.

But the moment they met his gaze and felt the pressure of his presence, their hesitation collapsed.

Their instincts screamed at them to obey.

This way, they were not abandoning their Baron.

They were carrying out an order.

Still, their hearts pounded unevenly in their chests.

They feared the oath might judge otherwise.

Minutes passed after they left Denji behind.

Nothing happened.

Relief, though fragile, began to settle in.

Meanwhile, Floki stepped toward Deborah and extended a hand.

"Are you alright?"

His voice was softer now, noticeably gentler than before.

Deborah nodded quickly, still catching her breath.

Her gaze drifted toward the massive crater where Denji lay.

"Is he... still alive?" she asked, her voice quieter now, edged with tension.

"Yes."

Floki followed her gaze.

"I made sure of it. Revenge loses its meaning if no one is there to witness it."

His words struck something deep within her.

Her chest tightened slightly as she thought of her sisters.

They should have been here.

They deserved to hear that.

"What about the others?" she asked after a brief pause.

Floki’s expression remained composed.

"I’ll take those willing to come with me. The rest can perish with Wayan."

He let the words settle before continuing.

"There’s still something I need first."

"The Crystal of Authority?"

Floki nodded.

It was the most important piece.

He needed to know where Denji had hidden it.

"You’ll have to kill him to get it," Deborah said, her tone firm despite everything.

Floki turned slightly toward her, a trace of confusion surfacing in his expression.

Noticing it, she continued.

"He used a ritual. Fused his body with the crystal. That’s where his strength came from."

As she spoke, understanding clicked into place.

Floki recalled the system’s earlier explanation.

Different lords awakened their crystals in different ways.

He exhaled slowly.

For a brief moment, he felt a quiet sense of relief.

He was not bound by such methods.

How tedious that would have been.

As they spoke, movement began to stir at the edges of the arena.

People arrived one after another.

Some carried heavy cloth bags slung over their shoulders.

Others led livestock with them, chickens clucking nervously, cows shifting restlessly, sheep bleating in low, uneasy tones.

The sounds of the animals broke the silence, blending into the tense atmosphere as every pair of eyes turned toward Floki.

Fear lingered in their expressions.

Yet, within the growing crowd, one teenager suddenly froze.

Recognition flashed across his face.

"Mother!"