Chapter 615: Chapter 616: Only Possibility There had never been a doubt in his mind. It went without saying, nothing could be more certain. He had accepted this certainty as fact, and he was happy with it. This was his way of life. Xander was the second son of the powerful Ravenscroft household. His was a clan of warriors. Many noble houses were like that, after all—this was a might-makes-right world, and Doom was their goddess. He had been sure his brother would be the head of the family when the time came. How could he ever doubt that? Godric was talented, strong, and kind. He had the makings of a leader. He was flawless, a man of honor. Xander had always looked up to him as his ideal... the ideal, one everyone should strive to be. This noble knight. How could he accept this... how could he accept this outcome? His brother was dead. Xander’s heart was bathed with grief and rage—both feelings so overpowering they swallowed him whole. Godric had been strong... until the demon wars ended. He had returned a war hero, but Godric had changed. He kept to himself, shutting away, letting himself grow dull and rusty, wasting away. Even so, Xander still looked up to the man he had been. But he had still seen it... how Godric pushed all his duties onto him, as if grooming his successor. His brother’s eyes had seemed so tired... as if he was waving life goodbye. Xander hated that look so much. But oddly enough, he had seen that same look on one other person... the helpless withdrawal from the desire to live. He had seen it in the dark and hate-filled eyes of Damon Grey. The only difference, if any, between Godric and Damon was that Damon hated everyone enough to live. He lived not because he particularly liked living, but as a way to spit in the face of all who wanted him gone. Perhaps that was why Xander didn’t like Damon... but at the same time, that was why he treasured him. With a heart swelling with hate, his spear thrust toward the entity with a sonic boom. "How dare you dishonorably kill my brother with a sneak attack..!" How else had Godric died? How could Godric not muster any resistance? From the blood spatter, Xander instantly deduced his brother had been attacked from behind. His footsteps rumbled like thunder, shattering the floor beneath the immense weight of his magical power. Gravity pressed on everything around them until the walls behind the faceless enemy cracked and shattered. The entity punched forward, blocking the spear with a massive echo that created astral winds. Xander felt its immense physical strength pressing against him, forcing him back. Damon sighed. There was no need for this farce. He was already dead anyway. Other than Xander, Damon could feel several powerful auras surrounding him. Each of them was like a noose around his neck—if they willed it, he would be destroyed in an instant, without a shred of his body left behind. This was the power of those in the high-class advancement. At least, against one as weak as he currently was. Why were the Grand Duke and the Duke allowing this? What did they hope to achieve? It would have been easier to try and capture him—or even kill him outright. No... all those things were open possibilities. They were certain he would die. They just wanted to make sure Xander killed him. ’How ruthless and pragmatic... one son dies, and they are already grooming the second one...’ This was noble society. It wasn’t that they didn’t care for Godric... they simply knew how to control their emotions. Damon tried to teleport, but nothing happened. The space was sealed. He was trapped here. Xander roared, charging at Damon, gravity swirling and wrapping around him. Damon bit his lip slightly, parrying the spear before kicking Xander square in the chest. The young man’s eyes widened in shock. His surprise was not unexpected. However, Xander truly didn’t know who he was fighting. Damon did. He had fought Xander many times and knew all of his techniques... even the Lysithara techniques he was now using. Damon had not yet attacked him, however. This was the barest consideration he would show to his party member, classmate, and friend. ’They can never make me like you, Xander Ravenscroft.’ This time, Damon did not speak those words aloud. He had understood this was inevitable since the day he found out Godric had killed his parents. If he killed Xander’s brother, he would be the enemy. Revenge was a sick cycle. One death led to another, spiraling endlessly. ’Still, I’m sorry... this is the last apology. From now on... I will treat you as a great enemy. One who will dance to my tunes...’ He reached for Xander’s throat, cutting through his defenses. Xander moved sharply, bringing his elbow around, but Damon knew him too well. Using his overwhelming physical advantage, Damon weaved under the strike and slammed his fist beneath Xander’s chin. Then he laughed softly—a tune that seemed like a demon’s laughter. "Is that all... you’re weak... you waste my time.." Xander roared, trying to tackle him. Xander was an upright person. Even his fighting style was like that. He raised his hand, and knights charged in, a swarm rushing in unison. Damon leapt backward, out of the broken wall—more a collapsed section than a window. His gaze remained locked on Xander, his hand still clutching the heart. Xander roared, giving chase. Watching that monster hold his brother’s heart was unacceptable. His aura flared, pushing him higher than ever before. He crashed into Damon mid-air, unleashing a flurry of punches across his face. They plummeted into the courtyard with a thunderous crash. Damon lay still for a moment. His shadow clone would dissolve soon once all of his shadow energy was depleted. He just needed to keep this farce going long enough. But before he could act, he felt an overwhelming aura behind him. A shadow loomed. Heavy footsteps drew close. Then hands grabbed his head, holding it firmly. The man’s voice was cold, grief-stricken. "Father, this farce has gone on long enough... I have lost a son today... I can bear no more..." Damon felt his neck being crushed from the back of his head, until his body gave way. What poured out was not blood, but blackness... a pool of shadows. The grip released for only a moment. Damon was a shadow clone. He did not truly have a physical body. He slid down, grasping Xander even as the man delivered his final judgment. The man’s expression was cold, his gaze unyielding. His eyes said it all. Death was the only possibility left.