Chapter 96: The blood clan (3).
Plasma bolts shot out from all directions, streaking through the air like shooting stars. The assassins scrambled to dodge the incoming fire, their reflexes saving many of them as they darted and rolled to safety.
The leader himself deflected several plasma bolts with his crimson sword, the energy sizzling as it clashed against his blade.
"What the hell is this?!"
The leader barked, his composure slipping as he scanned the forest. His crimson eyes flared as he tried to locate the source of the attack.
From the shadows, golden plasma bolts continued to rain down on the assassins, the intensity forcing them to abandon their coordinated strikes and scatter for survival. Carlos, still kneeling, grinned weakly as he recognized the familiar glow of the plasma fire.
"About damn time,"
he muttered, his voice filled with both relief and triumph.
From the sky, the rhythmic hum of engines filled the air as several Aegis units descended, their glowing thrusters illuminating the dark forest below. They landed with precision, forming a tight defensive circle around Carlos.
More Aegis units emerged from the forest, plasma rifles raised and scanning for targets. Their glowing golden visors cut through the darkness, tracking every movement in the dense forest where the assassins had vanished.
Carlos, now surrounded by his mechanical reinforcements, grinned, his breath still labored but his defiance unbroken.
"Now what?! Where'd all you bastards go?"
he yelled into the trees, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Weren't you all so powerful just a second ago? Come on, don't run off like scared mutts now!"
But the forest remained eerily silent. The assassins didn't bite the bait, their presence hidden, but Carlos could feel their eyes still on him.
"How's your situation, Carlos?"
A familiar voice came through the communicator embedded in his helmet. It was Emilia, her tone professional but laced with concern.
Carlos chuckled, glancing at the Aegis units standing like sentinels around him.
"Hey, Emilia. Thanks for the backup. I'm fine, just a little scratched up, that's all. But enough about me. What about the rest of the Thunderblades? Any news on the other teams we sent out on missions?"
Inside the mansion's control room, Emilia stood at the center of a circular array of monitors. Her sharp eyes scanned the incoming data as she spoke.
"There's no sign of any other teams being attacked. From the looks of it, you were the primary target this time."
She paused, her gaze shifting to the hologram of Cleo, who was watching the footage from Carlos' car camera with a calm, calculating expression.
"Lady Cleo recommends you return to the underground city immediately. We need to figure out who's after your life before you're exposed any further."
Carlos sighed, glancing back at his wrecked car.
"Understood. I'll head back now. Cancel all other Thunderblades missions and give the teams a paid vacation until further notice. No sense in putting anyone else at risk."
"Already done,"
Emilia replied. Her voice softened slightly, betraying a flicker of emotion.
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"Be sure to return with the Aegis escort. And Carlos… stay safe."
Carlos smirked as he climbed back into his car, a faint warmth in his chest at Emilia's words. The vehicle groaned under his weight, its damaged systems sputtering, but after a few tense seconds, the engine roared back to life.
"
You got it, Emilia,"
he said, accelerating the engine before steering back onto the road. The remaining Aegis units fell into formation around him, their plasma rifles still scanning the forest as they escorted him toward the underground city.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the forest...
The assassins watched from their hidden positions, their crimson armor blending seamlessly with the dark forest. One of them limped toward the leader, clutching the stump where his arm had been severed by the earlier plasma barrage.
Without a word, he pressed the severed limb back to the jagged wound. A red mist began to swirl around the injury, and with an unnatural hiss, the arm reattached itself, the flesh knitting back together seamlessly.
"Sir,"
the assassin rasped, flexing his fingers experimentally.
"Are we really going to let him leave just like that?"
The leader didn't respond immediately. His crimson sword rested on his shoulder as he watched Carlos' vehicle disappear into the distance, flanked by the glowing Aegis units. A cruel smile crept across his face.
"No,"
he said finally, his voice low and dangerous.
"We're not."
The other assassins perked up at his words, their crimson visors glinting faintly in the moonlight.
The leader's grin widened as he continued,
"We'll follow them. Let the dog lead us to the underground city. Once we find it, we'll have not one but two objectives in our grasp."
The injured assassin tilted his head curiously. "
Two, sir?
"
The leader turned his cold gaze toward him.
"The Thunderblades are only part of the picture. The client's primary interest lies with the underdogs. If Carlos leads us to them... we'll finish all three objectives in one stroke."
Without another word, the leader crouched low and leapt into the air, landing soundlessly on a tree branch high above. The rest of the assassins followed suit, their crimson forms flitting through the forest like shadows, moving with an eerie silence and precision.
Carlos' damaged car rumbled in the distance, its glowing lights faintly visible between the trees. The assassins stayed just far enough to remain unseen but close enough to ensure they wouldn't lose their target.
The leader's voice crackled over the assassins' shared communications.
"Keep pace. Stay out of sight. We'll strike when the time is right."
"Understood,
" came the replies in unison.
The hunt was far from over, and the leader of the assassins could feel the thrill of the chase building in his veins.
"Run all you want," he muttered under his breath, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
"We'll find you. And when we do... not even a deity could save you."
Inside the ship's gym, Cleo was in the middle of close-quarter combat training with Nyra, the faint hum of the wormhole outside vibrating through the ship's walls. The session had been going for hours now, and the energy in the room was still high, at least for Nyra.
"Come on, Nyra,"
Cleo said firmly as she caught the girl by her ankle mid-kick, flipping her upside down with ease. Nyra flailed for a moment, her crimson eyes wide, before Cleo carefully placed her back on the ground.
"I know you can do better. Try again."
Nyra huffed, brushing a strand of her snowy white hair from her face.
"I am trying! It's just… you're too strong!"
Cleo tilted her head slightly, her expression as neutral as ever.
"That's not an excuse. Out there in the galaxy, there are beings far stronger than I am. You should take this opportunity to train with someone who can challenge you. That's how you grow stronger."
Nyra clenched her fists, determination lighting up her crimson eyes.
"Okay, okay, you're right! Let's try again! This time, I'll give it everything I've got. Don't go easy on me!"
Without hesitation, she charged at Cleo, delivering a flurry of kicks with precision and speed, just as Cleo had taught her.
On the other side of the gym, Rex sat cross-legged on the floor with Lyra nestled in his lap, her head resting lazily against his chest. Cleo and Nyra's training session had long since stopped feeling like a practice match and had turned into an endurance marathon.
"Hey, little Lyra,"
Rex said, his voice lighthearted as he watched Nyra practically bounce across the mat, throwing herself into attack after attack.
"Does your sister have infinite energy or something? You've both been at this for two hours now; wait, scratch that. It's been three hours."
Lyra yawned softly, stretching her arms and leaning into Rex's chest like a cat.
"It's not that she has infinite energy,"
she said, her voice calm and measured.
"She just doesn't want to be a burden anymore. I can tell she's pushing her body past its limits, but she doesn't care. She wants to be stronger."
Rex raised an eyebrow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. That actually makes sense. Well, in that case,"
he said, a playful grin spreading across his face,
"I just thought of something that'll make her actually take a break."
Standing up, Rex stretched his arms overhead, cracking his neck before walking toward Cleo and Nyra. He stopped just as Nyra was spinning into another kick. "
Alright, girls, that's enough for now. It's time for Cleo and me to have a little sparring match with swords."
Nyra immediately stopped mid-spin, her face scrunching up in protest.
"What?! But I'm not finished with my—hey!"
She yelled as Rex scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"
Yes, yes, you've done great, little warrior,"
Rex said with a teasing grin as Nyra squirmed in his grip. "
Now it's time for you to sit down, take a rest, and enjoy the show."
He walked over to where Lyra was sitting and gently placed Nyra down beside her.
"Stay here and cheer for your favorite parent,"
he added with a wink before turning back toward the training area.
Nyra pouted, crossing her arms.
"You're not even my parent!"
"Not yet,"
Rex shot back with a smirk, grabbing a training claymore from the weapon stash. He spun it in his hand, testing its weight, before turning to Cleo with a mock bow.
"So, my dear princess, are you ready to dance?"
Cleo raised an eyebrow, her expression cool but with the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "
Give me a moment, my lord,"
she replied, walking to the stash to select her weapons. She chose two short training swords, their dull edges gleaming under the gym's bright lights.
As she turned back to face him, Rex twirled his claymore again, loosening his shoulders.
"Come, my lady. You may attack first. After all, I'm a gentleman; it's only proper that the lady leads the dance."
He motioned with his finger, taunting her to make the first move.
Cleo's golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"You may regret offering me the first strike, my lord,"
she said, her tone calm but with a razor-sharp edge.
Rex smirked, planting his feet and raising his claymore into a defensive stance.
"Oh, I'm counting on it,"
he said, his voice laced with playful confidence.