Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Meanwhile, Thorne Arcturus soared through the blistering heat toward the Death Volcano, his sharp gaze fixed on the horizon.

Suddenly, he froze mid-flight, his entire body tensing as he felt two immense energies rapidly approaching him from the distance. The air around him vibrated with the unmistakable pressure of their cultivation.

His brow furrowed deeply, suspicion darkening his features. "Two... eight-star cultivators?" he whispered, his tone filled with confusion and growing wariness. Your next chapter awaits on m v|l--NovelFire

His eyes flickered as he tried to process the situation, scanning the surroundings. "What are two peak-level eight-stars doing here, near the Death Volcano?"

His thoughts raced as he weighed the possibilities. This wasn't an ordinary location, nor an ordinary time. His instincts screamed that something was amiss, but before he could delve deeper into his suspicions, the source of the energy became clear.

Out of the shimmering heat, two figures appeared, their powerful auras pressing against the already suffocating air. Their skin, a dark, unnatural red, gleamed ominously in the light of the volcano.

The oppressive aura they exuded was enough to suffocate weaker cultivators from miles away, but Thorne Arcturus stood his ground, his expression hardening with recognition.

"Sylra Ravencrest and Kaelor Thorne..." he muttered under his breath, his voice low but thick with realization. His eyes narrowed as he stared at them, instantly identifying the two figures. "Top elders of Necrovauld."

The tension between them was palpable, and as the two Necrovauld elders came to a halt before him, a slow, wicked smile spread across Sylra's lips.

Her sharp eyes gleamed with amusement, as though the sight of Thorne was nothing more than a delightful surprise. Kaelor, towering beside her, rolled his shoulders casually, his massive frame exuding confidence.

"What do we have here, Sylra?" Kaelor drawled, his voice deep and rumbling with mockery. "It looks like we've found a Celestial dog sniffing around our territory."

Sylra tilted her head slightly, her expression playful yet predatory. "Thorne Arcturus, of all people," she said smoothly, her tone filled with a venomous sweetness. "What brings you to our little corner of the world? Surely you didn't come here uninvited."

Thorne's eyes flicked between them, his mind rapidly connecting the dots. Sylra and Kaelor weren't ordinary eight-star cultivators—they were nearly at the peak of their cultivation, deadly and dangerous.

"Necrovauld... must be hiding something here," Thorne thought, his fists clenching. His mind flashed to the image of his grandson, Caius, his body lifeless.

The fury that had simmered within him exploded, his expression darkening as the truth finally clicked into place. "Caius... they killed him because he uncovered their secret!"

Without hesitation, Thorne's aura erupted violently, the raw energy crackling around him like a storm ready to tear the sky apart. His power surged, electric arcs of mana slicing through the heated air.

Fury radiated off him in waves, his eyes ablaze with pure hatred as he focused on the two elders before him. His hand shot out, pointing an accusatory finger at them, the rage in his voice enough to shake the very ground beneath them.

"I will kill both of you!" Thorne roared, his voice booming like thunder across the volcanic landscape. The veins in his neck bulged, and his chest heaved with each breath, the intensity of his emotions laid bare. "For the murder of my grandson, Caius!"

The words echoed for a moment, hanging heavy in the oppressive heat, before being swallowed by the hissing of molten lava nearby.

Sylra and Kaelor exchanged a brief glance, their expressions betraying little, though a flicker of surprise passed between them. The accusation had caught them off guard, but not for long.

Sylra's brow arched, her lips twitching into a cruel, amused smile. Her cold, calculating gaze shifted back to Thorne, entirely unimpressed by his outburst. "

Murder? Of your grandson?" she murmured, her tone laced with icy indifference. Her voice, sharp and cutting, carried the mocking edge of someone entirely uninterested in the personal grievances of her enemy. "I don't know what you're babbling about, Arcturus."

Kaelor chuckled darkly beside her, the deep rumble of his laughter cutting through the tension. His broad shoulders shook slightly, and he flexed his massive hands, the sound of his knuckles cracking echoing ominously. He cast a sideways glance at Sylra, a grin spreading across his face.

"Does it even matter, Sylra?" Kaelor asked, his voice a low, growling rumble filled with amusement. His grin widened as he turned his attention back to Thorne, his red eyes gleaming with malice. "Whatever this fool is talking about, it won't change anything. He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."

Sylra smirked, her eyes narrowing. "Indeed," she agreed, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness. "Whether we killed your grandson or not is irrelevant now. What matters is that you've come here, and that means today is the day you die."

Thorne's chest heaved as his fury mounted, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth nearly ground together. The raw hatred in his eyes burned brighter with every word they spoke, and his aura flared again, the sheer force of his power causing the ground beneath him to crack and split.

"You think this is a game?" Thorne snarled, his voice low and dangerous, each word filled with venom. His fists clenched tightly, glowing with the raw, unbridled power of an eight-star cultivator. "You're playing with fire, and I swear on Caius's soul, I will burn you both to ashes!"

Sylra's smirk only widened, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "So much passion," she purred, her tone mockingly soft.

"Such a waste. You should be grateful we're even entertaining this little tantrum of yours." She raised her hand, dark energy swirling lazily around her fingertips, as if she were toying with it.

Kaelor crossed his arms, his posture relaxed but ready, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"You're outnumbered, Arcturus," he said calmly, his voice confident and filled with contempt. "And outmatched. We didn't come here to play, but since you insist, we'll be happy to make this quick."

The sneer on Thorne's face deepened, his aura flaring wildly around him. He wasn't a fool—he knew he was facing two of the most powerful elders from Necrovauld, both nearly at the peak of eight-star cultivation. But that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was his rage, his burning desire for revenge.

"You think you're the hunters here," Thorne hissed through gritted teeth, his voice deadly calm now, the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

"But today, you'll find that I'm the one holding the knife." His hand tightened into a fist, lightning crackling around him as the ground beneath them trembled.

For a moment, silence reigned, the oppressive heat of the volcano hanging heavily between them. Sylra's gaze flicked over Thorne, her smirk fading slightly as she sensed the deadly intent behind his words. Still, her confidence remained unshaken.

"Brave words for a man standing on the edge of his grave," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with cold finality.

Kaelor grinned savagely, flexing his hands in anticipation. "Let's stop wasting time," he growled, his voice thick with excitement. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can get back to real business."

The battle was about to begin, and all three eight-star cultivators knew there was no turning back. For Thorne, it was a fight fueled by vengeance.