Chapter 232
Fight (3)
The second IAM spoke, he felt his core drain—violently. At least forty percent of his mana vanished in an instant, yanked out like a pulled thread.
Backlash came immediately.
His sprint faltered for half a step as a sharp pain burst behind his eyes. Blood spilled from his nostrils, it was hot and sudden, trickling down his lips.
He had pushed too hard.
But IAM was prepared for this. He had never expected things to go cleanly. His method was barely refined, and he knew what happened when the balance tilted even slightly. The possibility of backlash had been burned into his mind before he even made the decision to act.
So he didn't stop.
Even as pain twisted in his chest and his vision blurred, he forced himself to keep moving forward.
Looking up, he saw that his method had worked—both of them were frozen. They were locked in place. Their bodies were rigid, still caught in the grip of his command.
They had followed his intent.
But it wouldn't last.
IAM knew that much instinctively. He wasn't sure when the other two would return with the oil or the lighter. They could walk out at any second and spot him mid-action.
The window was short, so he had to be precise and brutal.
There was no room left for error.
He ran up on the one closest to him and jumped. Mid-air, he drove his knee straight into the man's face while grabbing the back of his head to keep him still. There was a sickening crunch as cartilage and bone gave way beneath the strike. The man's nose exploded under the impact, blood spraying across IAM's leg and chest as the force snapped his head backward.
The momentum carried them both onto the hood of the car. They landed hard—metal groaning beneath them, the man's body bouncing once before slumping with a wet thud.
IAM didn't waste time checking if he was down.
He'd already seen the gun fly out of the man's hand from the force of the blow. That was enough. He rolled across the rest of the hood without stopping, crossing to the other side—where the second man still stood frozen.
His feet barely touched the ground before he launched into a front flip. At the peak of it, he twisted, and his heel came down in a brutal overhead kick that slammed into the back of the man's head. There was a meaty crack—something between bone and neck—and the body dropped like a sack of potatoes.
His face smashed into the side of the truck, leaving a dark red smear as he collapsed in a twitching heap, his limbs folded unnaturally.
IAM landed into a roll, his breathing ragged now. He wiped the blood from his nose with one shaking hand, the other clutched at his chest, pain pulsing from deep within as the backlash clawed at his insides.
His vision swam.. His head was spinning, but he stayed on his feet.
Two down.
One to go.
It wasn't over yet.
IAM didn't have time to breathe, let alone rest. His body was still aching from the backlash, but he pushed through, his eyes snapped to the last man who was still frozen near the edge of the truck.
He spun on his heel and launched forward again, sprinting with everything he had left. His legs burned, his balance was slightly off from the blood loss, but he didn't stop. The man's back was still to him.
Just a few more seconds.
IAM quickened his pace, his arms pumping, his lungs pulling in ragged, shallow air. He just had to reach him—before anything untoward happened. Before it all came undone.
But then, to his absolute dismay, the man suddenly jerked.
A twitch at first. Then a stagger, like someone half-awake and hungover, his limbs were sluggish and uncertain. He stood there wobbling, blinking like he was trying to understand where he was.
Then his head slowly turned.
His eyes widened as they locked onto IAM, charging straight at him like a train.
He froze—only for a second.
Then panic set in. His whole body snapped into motion. He turned sharply and broke into a sprint, running full-speed toward the warehouse.
He didn't know what had happened or how, but one thing was clear—he couldn't let himself get caught.
IAM saw that the man was running directly toward the warehouse—the same one the other two had entered not long ago. It wouldn't take much. A single shout, a drawn weapon, even the sound of his footsteps reaching the others… any of it could ruin everything.
He only had a few seconds.
Shockingly, in this situation he actually slowed down. Almost to a stop.
His arm reached behind him in one motion, fingers wrapping around the grip of KASSARA. He hadn't wanted to use it—not unless he absolutely had to—but this was the point of no return. There was no time left to hesitate.
He exhaled sharply, and swung his arm back. With a heavy grunt and every bit of strength he had left, he hurled KASSARA.
The blade tore through the air with a sharp whistle, curling at a wicked angle. It spun once. Then twice. The edges gleamed under the dim sky. It cut the space between them in less than a breath, and then—impact.
KASSARA struck the man square on the back of the head.
The sound was wet and violent—a loud, dull crack followed by a heavy grunt as the man's momentum collapsed beneath him. His knees gave out instantly, and he pitched forward like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing to the ground. His forehead struck the dirt with a solid thud, blood blooming across the back of his scalp from a nasty gash where the blunt edge of the weapon had hit.
He didn't move, but he was breathing—shallow and unconscious.
IAM stayed still for a moment, his body shaking faintly as he watched the man's limbs twitch once and then settle. His heart was pounding.
He hadn't killed him.
But that had been close. Too close.
He hadn't killed him, of course. That had never been the goal. If he'd fired a gun or caused a louder commotion, the man might have screamed, and the other two would've come running. If that had happened, everything—all of his efforts—would have been wasted. Stealth was the only option, and a clean knockout had been the best-case scenario.
IAM took a deep breath. It still wasn't over. He couldn't rest, there were still two more.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, smearing a bit of blood in the process. It had only been a matter of seconds, but that entire sequence had nearly drained him completely.
Even so, as he stared at the unconscious body in front of him, he wasn't panicking.
In fact, he was already coming up with a plan.
It wasn't going to be easy, but now that he'd cleared the outside, taking down the other two felt… possible.
He had no time to waste.
He moved.