Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 128: Ashes and Absence

Chapter 128: Ashes and Absence

Deep beneath the Earth Domain, nestled in ancient foundations that hadn’t seen use since their creation, the bunkers rumbled with restrained breath.

Carved into the bedrock and reinforced with powerful enchantments, these structures had been constructed during the early rise of the Earth Clan—designed not as homes but as last-resort sanctuaries. For decades, they’d remained untouched, forgotten by most. But not anymore.

Now, more than 80% of the continent’s civilian population huddled inside them—mothers clutching their children, elders gripping prayer beads, and families trying to stay calm as the world above trembled.

It had been Thutmose’s order. When he realized the tides of battle would shift into something far more destructive, he issued the command to all lesser and intermediate clans: Evacuate the civilians. Move them into the bunkers immediately. There’s no more time to debate.

And for once, no one questioned him.

Twenty percent of the continent’s population remained above—those powerful enough to hold weapons and stand against the never-ending beast tide. But the rest had only one job: survive.

The bunkers were divided by region, each housing tens of thousands, if not more. Advanced-ranked guards patrolled every corridor, silent and cold-eyed. At every checkpoint, an elite-ranked leader stood ready, ensuring no disorder broke the fragile order.

On the first day, silence reigned. Fear was a stronger chain than iron.

But silence did not last forever.

In one of the eastern bunkers, an argument had flared up—a man furious over rationed water, convinced he was being denied his share. He had shouted, pushed one of the volunteers, and reached for the knife hidden under his shirt.

He didn’t finish the motion.

The sound of his bones cracking echoed down the corridor.

Three guards were on him in an instant. One broke his wrist, another forced him to the ground, and the third held her blade against his throat. He screamed once, then no more. By the time they dragged him away, no one asked where he was going. No one wanted to know.

After that, the silence returned. And this time, it didn’t leave.

For three days, time moved like tar.

No one asked questions. No one tried to peek beyond the sealed bunker doors. They had seen too much of the world’s cruelty to forget what it meant to be fragile.

Then, on the fourth day, the heavy runed gates groaned open.

One by one, the guards stepped aside. They didn’t say a word, but their message was clear.

It was time.

Cautiously, people began to emerge, blinking at the sunlight they hadn’t seen in days. The first few groups gasped as they stepped onto solid ground and looked around to find their city untouched—buildings still standing, streets intact, as if nothing had ever happened.

Tears of relief flowed. They whispered prayers. Some dropped to their knees in gratitude.

But they were the lucky ones.

For others... it was different.

Nearly 70% of the returning citizens walked out of their bunkers only to find nothing waiting for them. No houses. No markets. No schools or temples. Just ash. Stone reduced to rubble. A landscape of craters and charred remains.

Cities once vibrant with life were now graveyards of silence.

They stood there, staring.

And the wind carried only the scent of smoke and ruin.

Among the countless cities reduced to ash and silence. It was a lesser clan.

This city had once belonged to a lesser clan of lightning users, a proud family whose bloodline could channel thunder and rip the skies apart with a thought. But now? There was nothing left even to suggest a city had ever stood there. Not a single building remained. Stone was shattered. Metal was warped. Even the city’s foundations were unrecognizable, as if the land itself had been scrubbed clean by something unnatural.

When the bunker gates opened and civilians stepped into the light, their steps faltered almost instantly. Their voices fell silent. There were no walls. No monuments. No signs of life.

And no signs of death either.

Because the most unnerving part... was the absence.

Hundreds of lesser clan warriors had to stay behind, tasked with holding off the beast tide while the civilians escaped underground. Yet not a single corpse could be seen. No shattered armor. No weapons embedded in beast skulls. No blood.

Nothing.

Even the beasts... were gone.

The elite rank guard standing watch tensed immediately. Experience clawed at his instincts. Something wasn’t right.

"Everyone back into the bunker!" barked the squad leader, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Now! Move!"

No one questioned the order. Fear makes people obedient.

Still, the guards couldn’t afford to leave the mystery unanswered. Seven teams, each composed of four elite warriors, were dispatched to investigate in different directions—each moving cautiously, weapons drawn, eyes sharp.

Hours passed.

Then...one team, which had moved in the direction of he estate of the lesser clan, reached the ruins of what had once been the lesser clan’s estate.

They stopped walking.

They stopped breathing.

Before them lay a crater—nearly 300 meters across. The ground had been pulverized, sunken deep into the earth, as if a god had struck it with a divine hammer. Jagged cracks spiderwebbed outward from the center, and hovering in the air it was something far more terrifying than absence.

Lightning.

But not natural lightning. Not gold or red or blue. This lightning was blackand writhed like a living thing, dancing from rock to rock, scorching the air with chaotic crackles. The pressure it released was suffocating and wrong. The mana around it had been twisted—unstable and wild, as though reality struggled to reject what had occurred here.

No beast could have caused this.

No normal clan could either.

One of the guards—a hardened warrior who had seen dozens of battles and lost friends to horrors—fell to his knees. His weapon clattered to the ground. His voice was hoarse, trembling, barely more than a whisper.

"...What in the hell happened here?"

No one answered.

Because somewhere, deep down, they all feared the truth:

They were all questioning the same thing.

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