Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1260: BOSSSS!!!

Atrum furrowed his brows, suspicion flickering in his eyes. He wondered if Lyon’s words were part of a ploy orchestrated by one of the other five clans to sow doubt and discord. But as he looked into Lyon’s unwavering gaze, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than mere deception.

He dropped the thought, realizing he needed to pry deeper.

"What exactly are you implying, Lyon?" Atrum asked, his tone low and serious. "You speak of traps and lies, but where does that leave us? What is it that you know?"

Lyon’s eyes didn’t waver. "It leaves you at a crossroads, Atrum. You can continue chasing after the same empty promises that have led countless others to their doom, or you can start questioning the narrative you’ve been fed. The truth is buried under layers of tradition and ambition, but it’s there if you’re willing to look."

Atrum’s frown deepened. "And if we choose to walk away? What happens then?"

Lyon let out a small, humorless laugh. "If you walk away, you keep your people safe from a fate they don’t even know they’re running toward. But that’s your choice to make. I’m just here to make sure you know the stakes."

Lady Kalani, who had been silent, finally spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. "Lyon, if what you’re saying is true, why hasn’t anyone spoken out before? Why hasn’t anyone warned us?"

"Because those who know the truth are either too scared to speak, or they’ve already been silenced," Lyon replied, his tone grim. "The few who escape are either broken or too far gone to be believed."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Atrum and Lady Kalani exchanged troubled glances. Esmeralda, who had been quietly observing the exchange, could feel the weight of the revelation pressing down on her.

Atrum finally broke the silence, his voice cautious. "You’ve given us a lot to think about, Lyon. But I still need to understand one thing. What’s in this for you? Why tell us all this?"

Lyon’s smile was fleeting, almost sad. "Let’s just say I have no love for those who would prey on the desperate. And I’ve seen too many good people fall victim to this lie. If I can stop even one more from being led astray, then it’s worth it."

Atrum nodded slowly, the tension in the room easing slightly, but the gravity of Lyon’s words still hung heavy. He realized that the decision before him was more complex than he had ever imagined.

Atrum rubbed his temples, trying to process everything Lyon had revealed. The weight of the decision Lyon was urging him to make was immense. "This is a lot to take in," he admitted. "I haven’t known you long, and though you’ve caught my daughter’s interest, asking me to drop out of the Gathering of the Six... that would paint a target on our backs. The other clans wouldn’t hesitate to strike. Have you even spoken to the other five?"

Lyon shook his head with a calm smile. "You’re the first master I’ve met, and it was purely by coincidence."

"Coincidence?" Atrum’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at Esmeralda, who confirmed with a nod. He sighed, trying to gauge Lyon’s intentions. "Then, what is it that you’re really after here, Lyon? What brought you to our doorstep?"

Lyon’s smile widened, but his eyes remained sharp. "I’m here to meet the legendary physician," he replied casually.

"Also, I didn’t ask you to drop out of the Gathering of the Six," Lyon clarified, his tone steady, "but leave the ultimate prize alone."

Atrum and Lady Kalani exchanged a quick glance, the gravity of Lyon’s request sinking in. Esmeralda leaned forward, her brows furrowed in curiosity. "Giving up the chance to become a Seraph?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"That’s correct," Cecile confirmed, her voice carrying a calm certainty that made Esmeralda pause.

Esmeralda let out a small, incredulous laugh. "That’s a huge deal," she said, her smile returning as she considered the implications. "If you were talking to Yuri about this, he would pounce on you without a second thought."

Lyon’s grin spread across his face, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. "Then I’ll bite his neck off as he did," he replied, his tone light but carrying a chilling edge.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, the air growing cold with the weight of his words. The implication that Lyon would kill Yuri if necessary hung in the silence like a knife poised to strike. For a moment, even Atrum and Lady Kalani seemed taken aback, their expressions hardening with the realization that Lyon wasn’t just bluffing.

But then, as if to break the tension, Lyon shrugged nonchalantly. "Though, he can do whatever he wants and ascend. It’s not like he’s the guaranteed winner out of all six of you."

The sudden shift in tone threw the room off balance, the tension easing slightly but leaving an uneasy undercurrent in its wake. Esmeralda’s smile faded as she studied Lyon, her mind racing to keep up with his unpredictable nature.

"You’re serious, aren’t you?" she finally said, her voice quieter now, as if testing the waters.

"Dead serious," Lyon replied, his grin softening but not losing its edge. "I’m not here to play games, Esmeralda. This Gathering isn’t what it seems, and chasing that prize could lead to a downfall you’re not prepared for."

Atrum leaned back in his chair, his mind clearly working through the possibilities. "And if Yuri decides to pursue it regardless?" he asked, testing Lyon’s resolve.

"Then he’ll face the consequences," Lyon said simply.

Cecile leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing as she posed a question that carried the weight of centuries. "Do you know the history of the Gathering of the Six?" Her voice was calm, but the underlying challenge was unmistakable.

Atrum, still reeling from the earlier conversation, straightened up, regaining his composure. "Of course," he replied confidently. "The Gathering of the Six was established to test the might of the six major clans. It was a tradition... a request made by Paradise itself."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Cecile’s lips, a knowing look flashing in her eyes. "Is your ancestor still alive?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual, but the question cut deep.

Atrum blinked, caught off guard. "Y-You mean my father?" he stammered, unsure where this line of questioning was leading.

"No," Lyon interjected, his voice calm yet probing. "Your Progenitor."

Atrum hesitated, the room suddenly feeling a bit colder. "His name was Botul," he finally answered, his voice steady but guarded.

Lyon’s eyes softened, though his expression remained serious. "Is he alive?" he asked, the question carrying a weight that made Atrum uneasy.

"Dead," Atrum replied after a brief pause, his tone clipped, trying to maintain his composure.

"How did he die?" Lyon’s gaze was unwavering, his voice devoid of judgment yet cutting through the room like a blade.

Atrum’s skepticism grew, a frown forming on his brow. "Old age..." he said, the words coming out slower, more deliberate.

Lyon leaned in slightly, his gaze piercing through Atrum’s defenses. "Did you kill him?"

"What?! No!" Atrum’s response was immediate, his shock evident. The mere suggestion rattled him.

"Then how were his last moments?" Lyon pressed on, his voice unyielding, each word landing with the weight of a sledgehammer.

Atrum’s frustration bubbled to the surface. "What is it to yo—" His words were abruptly cut off as Lyon’s sharp glance silenced him. The intensity in Lyon’s eyes was enough to freeze the air around them, leaving Atrum speechless.

The room fell into a tense silence, the question hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Atrum’s mind raced, trying to piece together Lyon’s intentions, while Lyon waited, his expression unreadable but his presence overwhelming.

Lyon didn’t need to say anything more; the unspoken implications were clear enough. Atrum swallowed, realizing that this was no ordinary man before him. There was a depth to Lyon, a history that went far beyond what any of them could comprehend, and it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

Maria, her tone gentle but insistent, added, "He won’t take no for an answer, Atrum."

Atrum leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as the weight of Lyon’s inquiry bore down on him. His eyes darkened with a mixture of frustration and resignation. "It’s uncomfortable, but... you’re right. I need to answer this."

Atrum closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before speaking. "It was... pitiful, really," he began, his voice tinged with sorrow. "They said the progenitor had grown old and senile. He would scream the same phrase over and over—’I can’t remember, please remember.’ He was desperate, but for what, none of us knew."

"A few years later, we found his body outside the clan. His meridians were shattered, his eyes wide open, frozen in terror. The conclusion was that he had taken his own life... a toxic concoction, we thought. It seemed he was working on something before... he lost himself."

The room grew colder as Atrum’s voice trailed off. Cecile’s eyes, sharp as a blade, cut through the silence. "Did the other progenitors share the same fate?" she asked, her tone piercing.

Atrum’s eyes flicked to hers, surprise evident in his expression. "How did you..." He coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Yes, rumors say the other five suffered similar symptoms—something about forgetting... something important. And yes, they all died. We didn’t hide it; grand burials were held for each of them."

Lyon’s hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles turning white. "I see," he murmured, his voice laced with a growing fury.

Crack! The sound of wood splintering echoed through the room as Lyon’s grip shattered the armrest. His hair began to flow as if caught in an unseen wind, and an overwhelming aura burst forth from his being, flooding the room with an intensity that was almost tangible.

"Hm!?" Atrum’s eyes widened in shock as an invisible force pressed down on everyone in the room, pushing them to their knees. The entire city outside felt it too, as citizens instinctively bowed under the sheer weight of Lyon’s power.

"This... this is...!" Atrum stammered, struggling to comprehend the overwhelming presence.

Outside, Ian and the others on the streets felt the surge of power. Ian’s knees buckled as he fought to stay upright. "Master?!" Graham’s voice was filled with concern, his brows furrowing as he resisted the force.

Kesya, however, grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "That’s him alright!" she said, her voice tinged with a strange admiration.

Ian turned to Liu, who stood with a calm smile despite the pressure. "What do you mean?" Ian asked, his voice strained.

Liu’s eyes glinted with understanding. "We’re not the only ones here," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Ian’s heart raced, but as he looked toward Venenum, a spark of hope ignited within him. He grinned, feeling a thrill course through his veins despite the oppressive force bearing down on him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something he hadn’t in years—a sense of purpose, and the stirring of something far greater.

Ian took a deep breath, the sheer force of Lyon’s presence pressing down on him. But he refused to be cowed, not now. With all the strength he could muster, he yelled, "BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSS!!!!!"

The shout reverberated through the city, cutting through the oppressive atmosphere like a knife. Inside the Venenum, Lyon’s eyes snapped open, his momentous rage dissipating in an instant. His furrowed brows softened as a mix of surprise and recognition crossed his face.

"Ian?" Lyon murmured, his voice tinged with both incredulity and amusement.

The tension in the room broke like a dam, the overwhelming aura receding as quickly as it had come. Atrum and the others gasped for air, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

Outside, Ian grinned, feeling the oppressive weight lift off his shoulders. He knew that call would reach Lyon, the only one who could pull him back from the brink. "Yeah, boss," he whispered to himself, relief washing over him.

Atrum looked around, his face a mix of bewilderment and curiosity as the pressure eased. "What just happened?" he asked, still trying to process the events.

Lyon chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Just an old student reminding me not to lose my cool," he said, his demeanor returning to its usual carefree confidence. "Sorry about that. Guess I got a little carried away."

Lady Kalani exchanged a glance with Esmeralda, both of them visibly shaken but also intrigued by the sudden shift in atmosphere. "Your friend seems to have impeccable timing," Lady Kalani remarked, her voice steady but her eyes still wide with surprise.

Lyon shrugged with a smirk. "That’s Ian for you. Always knows when to show up, even when he’s not here."