女人的战争之窥视的眼睛

Chapter 301 298: Capturing Clea

This particular rune allowed Clea to miraculously dodge death and teleport himself to a safe location. This meant that if Val attempted to land a fatal blow, Clea could potentially escape unharmed.

This was extremely problematic for Val. After all, if Clea managed to slip away, Val's entire plan would be ruined.

Clea was a loyal servant of the second young master of the Thunderspear tribe, none other than Leon. Leon had meticulously plotted the assassination of Oliver. If Clea escaped Val's clutches and reported back to Leon, it would be a headache for Val. The consequences would be dire.

However, if Clea were to be silenced permanently, either by the cold grasp of death or through absolute control, no one would remain to spill the beans. Leon would be left in the dark, pondering over who had foiled his master plan. Such uncertainty would make Leon wary of targeting Oliver again as he would be afraid of the mysterious protector who had outsmarted his most trusted aide.

It also aligned with Val's personal ambitions. 

It was important that Oliver stay alive if Val wanted to gain control over his life.

The young boy's existence ensured balance within the Destiny Walker family.

By safeguarding Oliver and aiding his growth, Val could seamlessly assimilate into the wizard family. 

The backing of such a family would grant Val the political clout he needed to stop the queen and his family from influencing his life ever again!

After all, Once Lucious, a figure of great influence, endorsed him, who in the kingdom would dare confront him? Even the Queen would have to think twice before making a move against him.

Good days were ahead. The last thing he needed to do was deal with a pest!

Amidst the chase, Val couldn't help but admire Clea's tenacity.

"Clea really is something," Val thought. "He's forced me to resort to that one-time skill."

Val had an ace up his sleeve, a skill that wasn't tied to his bloodline or runes. He had acquired it through the profound elixir of ethereal passage. Named after the elixir itself, 'Ethereal Passage' allowed him to lock onto a target and teleport to their vicinity a total of five times. This ability was the perfect counter to Clea's evasive rune.

Without hesitation, Val activated the Ethereal Passage, designating Clea as his target. 

In a blink, Val was behind Clea, his fist ready to strike. However, Clea's finely tuned instincts blared alarms in his mind. Overriding all doubts, Clea burst out with immense electric power and flashed to the right, narrowly avoiding Val's punch.

"Got you."

Seeing an opening, Clea retaliated, flashing behind Val to deliver a blow. He was attempting to catch Val off guard from behind. But Val was quicker. Clea's punch met nothing but an afterimage of Val, which shimmered momentarily before fading.

"No, It's the other way around," Val's voice rose from behind Clea.

Clea shivered like a naked man in the cold as Val's cold breath brushed against his nape. The enemy was behind him, and he felt like a fish on the chopping board. Before he could do a thing, Val had already made a move to claim his life.

Val had thrown a punch. 

His punch, which was strong enough to shatter a hill, was aimed at the back of Clea's head. 

It would have been game over for Clea had it connected.

However, Clea's second rune activated in the nick of time, whisking him away from Val's deadly assault.

Clea, panting heavily, thought he had finally evaded Val's relentless pursuit. As he looked around, he felt a momentary sense of relief. However, unbeknownst to him, the chase was far from over. Val, empowered with the Ethereal Passage skill, was capable of appearing near Clea in the blink of an eye.

And that's precisely what happened. Val, using the skill, materialized close to Clea. Clea's eyes widened in horror as he spotted Val. Without a second thought, Clea turned on his heels and fled.

Drawing the ancient blade Voidslayer from its sheath, Val pointed the weapon at Clea and proclaimed, "He's all yours, Voidslayer."

The spirit sword replied, "Got it, master, before a burst of crimson energy arced out of it. The crimson arc cut down trees in its path as it zeroed in on Clea.

The ominous glow threatened to bisect Clea, just like the trees it had severed. But in the nick of time, Clea's teleportation rune flared to life, saving him from an impending doom and teleporting him hundreds of meters away.

This time, Clea didn't pause to relish his temporary respite. He ran with all his might, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. The only thought on his mind was to escape the lesser dimension, with the hope of strategizing later.

Yet, as if fate itself was conspiring against him, Val, using the Ethereal Passage, appeared directly in Clea's path, blocking him.

Clea skidded to a halt, his face contorted with fear. 

Val revealed a sinister grin, and it only served to intensify Clea's dread. Val used the Shadow Bind rune to immobilize Clea before swinging his sword in his direction. The blade was about to bite into his neck when Clea vanished again.

The same thing happened a few more times.

Every time Clea thought he had managed to escape Val's vicious clutches, Val was there, ready to strike. And each time, Clea's death evasion rune would come to his rescue.

But when this happened for the fifth time something was different. Val appeared in front of him with a confident, self-assured smile that sent chills down Clea's spine, signaling that the end was near.

"By now, you must've exhausted your elementalized soul power," Val taunted. "Your death evasion rune can't save you anymore."

The realization hit Clea like a ton of bricks. He closed his eyes and he could feel the void, the absence of the elementalized soul power in his arcane heart. What Val said wasn't a bluff. He had really run out of the energy he needed to activate his death evasion rune!

Panic surged through him. 

He tried to flee, but Val had enough of this game of chase.

Grabbing Clea by his hair, Val ruthlessly slammed him into the ground.

Bam!

Dust and debris rose from the impact.

But Val wasn't done.

With a force born out of years of training and anger, he lifted Clea and smashed him into the ground again and again.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

With every slam, Clea's once handsome face became unrecognizable.

The ground around them bore the evidence of Val's wrath, and Clea's feeble body bore the brunt of it.

Clea's once striking features were now marred with blood, bruises, and broken skin. Each slam into the ground left a fresh imprint of violence, turning his handsome visage into a grotesque mask. The crimson liquid oozed from several gashes, matting his hair and dripping onto the dust below.

He was utterly defenseless, pinned under the weight of Val's wrath. It was evident that Clea was completely at the mercy of Val, who seemed like a relentless machine, programmed with a singular mission - to inflict pain.

Clea's voice, choked with blood and tears, croaked out a plea. "Please... mercy..." But even as he uttered the words, Val, with cold precision, rammed his face into the ground once more. The wet thud echoed eerily in the quiet of the night.

Gasping for breath, Clea tried a different approach, desperation evident in his eyes. "What can I do to make you stop?" he begged, but his plea was met with another ruthless slam.

With every bone-crushing impact, Clea's spirit waned further. The pain became unbearable. The humiliation, the physical agony, and the emotional torture mingled, driving him to a breaking point. "Just... just kill me," he sobbed, the weight of hopelessness pressing down on him.

Val, looking down at the pitiable state of his opponent, sneered. "A slave doesn't get the privilege of deciding what his master does with him," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

The mention of the word 'slave' brought forth memories of the Thunderspear tribe's legacy. The Thunderspear tribe were revered as heroes within the human realm. They were not just warriors but symbols of hope and valor. To them, their honor was above all else. Their lineage carried tales of bravery, of facing death head-on rather than bending their knees to adversaries. How could Clea, a proud member of such a tribe, even fathom the degradation of becoming someone else's slave? Death seemed a sweeter option than enduring such humiliation.

Spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto Val's face, Clea defiantly retorted, "Fuck you, I am not your slave."

Val wiped away the spit from his face with the back of his hand. Even as he did so, his gaze never left Clea's. The sheer intensity of his eyes sent shivers down Clea's spine. 

"Oh, you will be," Val whispered, the menace in his voice palpable, "very soon."