Chapter 113: The Silver Flash
The night sky in the demonic realm was suffocating, covered in endless clouds that bled faint traces of lightning. The twisted trees stood like silent witnesses, their branches groaning under the weight of the battle about to unfold.
Kurumara and Grandmaru stood side by side, their faces grim but their pride burning. Both had cursed Ram as a lowborn, but deep inside they knew the truth—they hadn't underestimated him for even a breath. They were princes, heirs to noble bloodlines, and yet the man before them radiated a pressure that eclipsed everything they had ever faced.
Still, however powerful an ant might become, could it really kill an elephant?
They launched their attacks together. Kurumara's bow gleamed with runes as he loosed a jet-black arrow wrapped in clouded energy. Grandmaru's mace whistled through the air, its head large enough to crush a boulder.
The attacks struck Ram at the same instant—
Bang!
A silver brilliance rippled across his body like water touched by moonlight. For a moment the darkness was split apart. The arrow shattered harmlessly against the silver glow, fragments of cloud scattering into mist. Grandmaru's mace cracked at the base, hairline fractures crawling along the weapon as though it had struck an immovable wall.
The ground trembled. Ram didn't move an inch.
Kurumara's face drained of color. Grandmaru staggered back, his hands trembling around the broken mace. In that instant both of them realized it—
they had touched something far beyond them.
Fear clawed at their chests. Instinct screamed at them to retreat. But before they could even decide, a massive hand was already on them.
Ram's palm clamped down on their heads as though they were no more than children. With terrifying ease, he pressed them into the ground.
Boom!
The earth split open, cracks spreading in every direction as their skulls struck the soil. Dust billowed. Stones splintered. Their faces were buried deep, and blood began to trickle into the cracks below.
The crowd watching from the tournament screens gasped in disbelief. Two proud princes—both at the peak of their generation—were humiliated like insects by a man who had yet to utter a single word.
The two brothers, dazed and struggling, knew retreat was no longer an option. If they backed down now, they would lose their points, their honor, and perhaps their right to remain in the trial. Their royal pride burned hotter than their fear.
"Not yet…" Kurumara hissed, forcing himself up. His eyes blazed with fury as he summoned his siddhi once more.
Dark clouds gathered in the poisoned sky. Thunder roared like the cry of an enraged beast. A pale blue arrow slowly formed on his bowstring, its surface crackling with lightning. The energy it radiated was terrifying, enough to make weaker warriors collapse just from the pressure.
Grandmaru roared as well. His veins bulged and his body flushed red, as though molten iron flowed through his blood. Steam hissed from his skin, the ground beneath his feet scorching as if he had become a living furnace.
Both of them unleashed their powers together, determined to crush Ram in a storm of destruction.
The arrow glowed brighter, its tip a spear of divine lightning. Grandmaru's roar echoed as he prepared to charge with all the strength of his fiery body.
But Ram… only stood still.
His expression did not change. His eyes, half-lidded and cold, held the calm of an executioner. And then, just as the arrow was loosed—
Flash!
A blinding silver light burst across the clearing.
Ram vanished.
The arrow tore through the night sky, splitting trees and ripping open the ground, but it never touched its target. By the time the thunder rolled, Ram was already behind Kurumara.
A single punch. Swift. Silent. Absolute.
Ram's right hand pierced through Kurumara's chest with merciless precision. Blood sprayed in a red arc, steaming against the cold air.
Kurumara froze. His bow slipped from his fingers.
For a heartbeat, confusion clouded his eyes. He had released his most powerful strike, an arrow that could pierce through steel, yet it had found nothing. Instead, when he looked down, he saw the truth—
A gaping hole, punched clean through his chest. His heart shattered. His life bleeding away.
His lips trembled as he tried to form words, but only blood spilled out. His body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Ram's hand dripped with crimson that was not his own. He did not flinch. His face remained calm, his eyes closed as though bored by the entire ordeal.
The ground was silent except for Grandmaru's ragged breathing. The prince's face was twisted between rage and horror. He had just watched his brother fall faster than his eyes could follow.
And in that silence, Ram slowly turned his head towards him.
Cold. Expressionless.
The message was clear.
You're next.