Rising god
Chapter 35: Again?

Chapter 35: Again?

The battlefield had fallen into a tense stillness, an eerie calm before the inevitable storm.

Amidst this silence, a strange, dark mist began to seep through the air like a silent curse, thick, heavy, unnatural. This was no ordinary fog.

It was Energy Suppression Mist, Baines’s first significant creation from combining Ashen Nightshade and Void Thistle, two very volatile plant specimens. The effect was devastatingly precise—it temporarily canceled out all forms of aura and mana in the vicinity.

It was the perfect trap, however, it had a glaring flaw.

And the flaw? It didn’t exempt him. It was unknown whether it would affect him despite using his Ashen-origin arts, but for now, it did.

And now, caught in the very heart of it, he was rendered just as vulnerable as his enemies.

But that was fine.

Because Baines didn’t rely only on energy. Basic combat—raw, precise, efficient, and evolved—was his foundation. Even stripped of aura, he was lethal.

Across from him, Raging Red stood frozen, his once vibrant and cocky demeanor drained of all color. The loss of aura was a psychological blow, not just a physical limitation. Panic set in.

And that was when Baines struck.

With a heavy swing of his sword, he launched an attack. The blade came crashing down with such momentum that Raging Red instinctively dodged.

"Fuck—!"

But how could he have anticipated what came next?

The sword twisted mid-air. A vertical slash, turned seamlessly into a horizontal arc with the same crushing force. It was unnatural, physics-defying, and utterly brutal.

Shhk!

A crimson gash opened along Raging Red’s waist, his cry sharp and agonized. He stumbled back, blood pouring from the wound. Even if he wanted to heal using aura, there was none to draw from. Baines, too, wasn’t using any energy techniques; this was pure swordsmanship.

But then a thought clicked in Raging Red’s panicked mind: This mist couldn’t be permanent, right?

Shhk!

As he sustained more injuries while dodging the lethal strikes, his stance steadied slightly.

If he could endure, even momentarily, the aura might return. However, he could do nothing about the bleeding, and worse, Baines was still advancing.

But he could do something about this pest before him.

"Now!" Raging Red shouted.

A blur surged through the mist.

And,

Ptsshtch!

A spear burst through Baines’s abdomen, the red liquid of life spilling violently.

Baines’s breath caught. His mind reeled. From the fog emerged the attacker—a 5th-star warrior, unnoticed, using the chaos and the suppression to mask their entry.

"Fucker..." the newcomer growled, rage burning in his voice. How could he stand his boos get killed by the hands of someone weaker than him.

Before another blow could land, Mark, the Church squad leader, lunged into the mist, intercepting Raging Red’s blade as it descended toward Baines’s neck.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Mark had cursed more times today than he had in his life.

"That bastard is mine!" cried the 5th-star from Tasha’s squad, charging at Baines’s assailant.

Chaos erupted.

Tasha and Ronick arrived soon after, joining the fray, their eyes wide with disbelief at what they had just witnessed.

From the assassination attempt, Baines’s resilience, his cornering of Raging Red, and then being stabbed? It was too much.

But for Baines, this wasn’t just a battle. It was a memory.

Six years ago, it had been exactly like this.

The same pain.

The same betrayal.

At the same location of the wound, his stomach was being pierced from behind. His mind fell into that abyss again. He could see it: burning buildings, masked enemies soaring through the air, the screams of civilians and comrades.

He had watched helplessly as his own body bled out, powerless then, just as he was now.

’I haven’t gotten any closer...’ It suddenly felt like he hadn’t gotten any closer to taking revenge and finding his family. The thought stung more than the injury itself.

He whispered within himself, ’Eye, don’t heal me.’

Darkness crept into his vision. As consciousness slipped, a familiar sound echoed—distant, and powerful.

The roar of dragons.

...

Baines awoke in a haze.

White ceiling. Herbal aroma. Pain.

The same infirmary and, coincidentally, the same bed.

’I’m alive.’ he didn’t give it much thought.

Even with his command to Eye, the internal entity or system bound to him, to avoid healing, it would’ve taken precautions the moment survival was endangered. Even if it wasn’t a matter of survival, his importance would make the church heal him carefully.

Still, the fact remained,

’I’m still so weak, huh?’ Collapsing amidst a battle was enough to tell him all he needed. He hadn’t gotten anywhere because he was too weak; he hadn’t taken any steps towards his revenge, also because he was too weak.

The situation made him remember Martos’s words to him:

"Being weak isn’t the issue. Staying weak is. Then the question is, what are you willing to do to stop being weak?"

’What am I willing to do?’ He asked himself.

"Sir Jin. Your presence is requested at the central control," said a knight entering his room.

Wordlessly, Baines got up, dressed, and strapped on his sword.

His body still ached, but his mind was sharper than ever.

As he walked through the branch family’s encampment, he noticed the stares, and he couldn’t understand them.

’Why are they looking at me like that? Eye scan it.’

[SCANNING...]

[FACIAL EXPRESSIONS DISPLAY: WORRY, RESPECT, AND ADMIRATION.]

’Enough. That’s all I need to know.’ He stopped Eye before it continued listing out cringy words.

The central tent loomed ahead, a war room encircled with protective wards and housing a central orb, pulsing with magical runes.

Several key figures were already seated.

"Ah, Jin."

"That’s him?"

"Come in, Jin," said Branch Head Roderick, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Baines replied flatly.

His emotionless tone had become familiar to them, and while some remained curious, they didn’t push.

"Alright, because of what happened there, we decided to have you here in the command center rather than on the field."

Baines simply nodded.

"Great!" He smiled and continued, "Firstly, your strategy in letting them gather in a place and attack was outstanding. We used it and it saved a lot of people from both sides."

"How long was I out?" Baines asked, curiosity slipping through his usual coldness.

"Three days," Roderick said. "You lost a lot of blood. When reinforcements arrived, they had to wipe out Raging Red’s forces before evacuating you."

’Three days?’ That meant Eye had really obeyed his order, up to a point, and took a countermeasure when it got dangerous. Baines remained silent, listening.

"Your strategy gave us breathing room," Roderick continued. "We were able to evacuate civilians and get help from nearby cities and even the main family. But that’s when it changed."

The atmosphere darkened.

"They’ve stopped targeting civilians. Instead, they’re kidnapping soldiers. Just yesterday, we received confirmation, they’re already using the temporary blood orb."

Baines’s eyes widened.

Of course, if ordinary civilians could be used, mages and martial artists trained in the energies of the world could also be used. Maybe it would even work better.

"Before they find a way to stabilize that thing, we need to destroy them." Roderick sighed and went to take his seat. It was as if he didn’t even expect an actual response from Baines.

"It’s not difficult," Baines said.

Everyone in the room turned toward him.

"What?" Roderick blinked.

"They want us to chase them," Baines continued. "We act. We bait them. We give them the stage to play their part. They’ll come naturally."

Silence.

Then a smile crept onto Roderick’s face.

Maybe the boy was emotionless. Maybe he was still recovering or in his search for something.

But this—this was a commander in the making.