Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

It had been several days since Lucas and Roxana had destroyed the latest noble family. They flew through the skies at a slow, unhurried pace, the gentle breeze rustling their clothes as the world below passed by in peaceful silence. The horizon stretched endlessly before them, the calm a stark contrast to the destruction they had left behind.

Neither of them seemed the least bit concerned about the chaos and fear they had stirred throughout the kingdom. If anything, the calmness that surrounded them was almost serene—like a quiet before the storm.

Roxana stretched her arms lazily as they flew, her eyes half-closed in boredom. "You know," she said, her tone light but teasing, "for all the noise these nobles make, they sure fall pretty easily. It's starting to feel like we're cleaning up trash."

Lucas glanced at her, his expression neutral but with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "They've always been weak," he replied, his voice calm. "They rely on their status to shield them, not their strength."

Roxana smirked, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Still, I was hoping at least one of them would put up a fight."

Suddenly, the air around them shifted—a subtle but powerful change. It was the kind of presence that could not be ignored. Both Lucas and Roxana felt it immediately, the unmistakable energy of someone powerful drawing near.

Lucas turned his head slightly, his expression changing from casual to focused. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. "It seems the higher-ups have finally decided to take action," he said, his voice steady but carrying a note of seriousness.

Roxana's eyes snapped open, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Finally," she said, her tone dripping with anticipation. Her gaze sharpened as she looked in the direction of the approaching power. "I was getting bored."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression now one of pure excitement. "Do you think they'll actually be a challenge this time?" she asked, her voice playful but eager.

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Lucas smirked, his eyes still focused on the horizon. "We'll see," he replied, his tone cool but with a glint of interest. "If they've sent someone this strong, they must be serious."

Roxana chuckled softly, her voice filled with amusement. "Good. I've been itching for something interesting."

The wind picked up, swirling around them as the powerful presence drew closer. The air grew heavy with tension, but neither Lucas nor Roxana showed any signs of worry. Instead, they both seemed… excited.

"Here they come," Lucas said quietly, his voice filled with a calm anticipation.

Roxana's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a predatory gleam. "Let's give them a proper welcome."

Within moments, the once-clear sky darkened as a powerful figure emerged on the horizon. The wind picked up, swirling around the approaching force, as the aura of authority and raw strength enveloped the area.

General Valen, the most feared general of the Lionhart family, flew toward them with breathtaking speed, his expression unreadable, but his intent unmistakable.

His approach was silent but menacing. As he came to a stop just a few meters away from Lucas and Roxana, his eyes—sharp and piercing—locked onto them, assessing the situation with an air of cold calculation.

He hovered in the air, his presence dominating the space around them, his very posture exuding command.

Valen's voice cut through the wind, cold and commanding. "By order of the Lionhart family, you are sentenced to death for the murder of noble families and for spreading fear among the people."

There was no wavering in his tone—only the authority of a man who was used to delivering death sentences.

Lucas, however, didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, and a faint smile crept across his lips, his eyes gleaming with subtle amusement. "The nobles we killed were corrupt and dirty," he replied, his voice smooth but with an edge of mockery. "They got what they deserved."

Valen's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening with disdain. His tone grew harsh, almost reprimanding. "Even if they were corrupt, it is not for you to decide their fate.

They belong to the kingdom, and it is the Lionhart family who passes judgment. Not you." His voice darkened further, his intent clear. "That is why you must die today."

Before Lucas could respond, Roxana burst into laughter—a rich, amused sound that echoed in the heavy air. Her arms were crossed, and she floated lazily beside Lucas, her smile widening as she took in Valen's stern demeanor. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, as if she'd just heard the most entertaining joke.

"Oh, really?" she drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You think you can kill us, General Valen?" She cocked her head slightly, eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and playful mockery. "I've been waiting for something interesting. Let's see if you're as strong as they say."

Valen's expression remained cold, his face betraying no emotion, but there was a fire burning behind his eyes. "I am the strongest general in the kingdom," he declared, his voice heavy with confidence and authority. "I will put an end to your rampage here and now. Prepare to die."

Roxana's smirk widened, her body tensing in anticipation. Her muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap, excitement coursing through her veins. "Let's see you try," she said, her voice low but brimming with eagerness.

The tension in the air thickened, pressing down on them like the weight of an oncoming storm. The wind swirled faster around them, carrying the unspoken promise of an impending clash. Both sides were ready, their auras clashing even before the first blow was struck.

Lucas, who had remained silent, observed the interaction with a cold, calculating gaze. His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he took in the scene unfolding before him. He could already anticipate the chaos to come, the thrill of the battle that was about to explode around them.

"Let's see if you live up to your title," Lucas muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper but filled with chilling intent.

The battlefield was set, and the inevitable clash loomed.