Chapter 143: The Silva Family
"Well, well… if it isn't the disgrace of the Silva family."
"I almost didn't recognize you," the gray-haired young man said, crossing his arms. "Looks like you've been living quite the comfortable life, haven't you?"
As his words drifted away with the wind, the people present reacted differently.
Rias, Akeno, Koneko, and others who knew Blake's past glared at the young man with anger.
Asia, on the other hand, was stunned. She hadn't known Blake for long and was unaware of his past.
Kiba quickly came back to his senses, his expression turning cold as murderous intent flashed in his eyes. This man not only dared to provoke him but also had the audacity to expose Blake's past wounds in public.
Xenovia gripped her Holy Sword uneasily. The sudden shift in atmosphere left them momentarily speechless.
But unlike them, Blake remained calm. His expression showed no sign of emotion as he simply gazed at the gray-haired young man, as if looking at a clown.
"Interesting. Really interesting," Kokabiel said indifferently. "The dirty deeds of the Silva family? Before this war begins, this might be an amusing distraction."
And Kokabiel's laughter echoed through the air, making everyone frown.
"Kokabiel, I'll deal with you later."
Blake's tone was indifferent as he glanced at the arrogant fallen angel, who lounged in a throne of light, looking down on them with a condescending smirk.
"Quite arrogant, aren't you, kid?"
Kokabiel grinned, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. But he made no move, as Kanna, the small yet powerful dragon girl, was keeping a close eye on him.
"Why? Are you getting angry?" The gray-haired young man sneered. "Well, it's only natural. After all, you the so called eldest son of the Silva family is nothing more than a useless disgrace who was expelled. How utterly pathetic."
His words dripped with mockery as he watched Blake approach at a leisurely pace.
He couldn't believe his luck running into the former heir of the Silva family in such a place.
Memories of his own miserable experiences surged within him. Despite his extraordinary talent, he had been treated as an outcast within the Silva family. Ignored. Rejected. Cast out like trash. Forced to wander the world alone after defying his so-called family.
His hatred for the Silva family ran deep.
Even though Blake had nothing to do with his suffering and had been abandoned by the family just like him it didn't matter. The young man needed someone to take out his frustration. And Blake was the perfect target.
"What an ugly man you are."
Blake's cold voice cut through the tense air.
He ignored the twisted expression on the young man's face an ugly mixture of resentment, jealousy and anger.
"Still acting high and mighty, are we?!" the young man roared. "You're nothing but a useless outcast!"
His voice trembled with rage.
The next moment, to everyone's shock, he lunged at Blake with a [Holy Sword] in hand. His speed surpassed even Kiba's at his peak.
And then
He split into four.
Four identical figures rushed toward Blake simultaneously.
Kiba's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he swung his magic sword at the figure on the far right.
But
Whoosh!
His blade cut through nothing but air. A fake body.
"Die!!"
The remaining three figures yelled in unison, their [Holy Swords] slashing down at Blake in perfect sync.
This was Ancient Magic art that made it nearly impossible to distinguish reality from illusion. Only those well versed in such techniques could see through it. Otherwise, even a Satan-class being would be forced to counter with a large-scale attack.
And then
Slash!
A sharp, sickening sound echoed through the battlefield.
"AHHHHHHHHH!!!"
A bloodcurdling scream followed.
The gray-haired young man's right hand along with his [Holy Sword] was severed, blood spraying in a gruesome arc.
His arm hit the ground with a dull thud.
Blake stood there, unmoved, his Frost Whisper dripping with fresh blood.
"Using Ancient Magic to deceive an opponent who doesn't understand it might be a clever trick," Blake said coldly, "but it won't work on me."
The young man trembled, cold sweat pouring down his face as pain wracked his body.
"Haha… that's right," he suddenly laughed, his voice strained with agony and resentment. "Who would've thought I'd run into the former young master of the Silva family here? Hahaha…"
His expression twisted further, jealousy and hatred flickering in his eyes.
"Jealousy is such an ugly thing."
Blake's crystal-blue eyes flickered briefly before he raised Frost Whisper once more.
---
The Silva family valued blood purity above all else. Those with 'impure' blood were treated as mere servants.
Though Blake didn't know exactly what injustices the young man before him had suffered, he didn't care.
To him, the Silva family meant nothing.
The only ones who had ever mattered to him were two people: his late mother and his little sister.
And as for his enemies… Blake always made sure to eliminate them completely.
---
"Wait, wait! You can't kill me!"
The young man's voice was laced with desperation as he stared at Blake's icy gaze and the sword slowly descending upon him.
Despite his overwhelming jealousy and hatred, there was one thing he feared more than anything death.
Blake ignored him, his grip on Frost Whisper tightening.
"If you kill me, you'll lose vital information about Lia Silva!"
The words left his mouth in a frantic rush.
And then
Slash!
Frost Whisper, gleaming with silver light, stopped just at his throat.
A thin line of blood trailed down his neck.
If Blake had been even a second slower in stopping his blade, the young man's head would have already hit the ground.
The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
Everyone stared at the scene, exchanging bewildered glances.
"So much drama," someone muttered under their breath.
And it wasn't over yet.
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