Rising god
Chapter 145: Iron Brotherhood II

Chapter 145: Iron Brotherhood II

As the 7th Division advanced on the Blightroot estate, Wayla, the second chair, edged close to Rakel Voss, her voice low under the crimson dusk. "How do we fight?"

"What do you mean?"

"By now, they’ve taken the Blightroot family hostage. If we just storm in, they’ll be caught up in the battle."

Rakel’s brow furrowed, his green eyes darkening. He hadn’t considered the hostages. "What do you suggest?"

...

After their brutal warning—heads rolling on marble, blood pooling like wine—the Brotherhood had dispersed, allowing servants and soldiers to their posts under watchful eyes. Family members, trembling like scolded children, returned to their quarters, each shadowed by a Brotherhood guard, their fused armor clinking ominously.

Raul Blight, an executive in charge of the production of the family’s income generation.

It was evening, and all of a sudden, the Iron Brotherhood came and took over everything. But after a stressful day, he was returning to his house beside the largest mansion in the evening.

His guard’s armor clicked with every step, and his eyes watched him like a hawk. It was like a constant reminder of their captivity. Raul sighed, entering his home.

The guard followed, but it didn’t take a second when—Slash.

A blade cleaved him in two, blood and molten metal spraying, his torso sliding apart with a wet thud.

"Ahh..." Raul keeled over, stifling a scream, but a figure clamped his mouth, his eyes glinting in the dim light. He heaved and calmed, retreating to take in deep breaths.

"W-Who are you?" He asked in between breaths.

"Twenty-third chair of the 7th Division, Red Sun," the figure said, revealing themselves.

Raul’s eyes widened, relief flooding him, but he didn’t linger. "H-Hurry, the others..."

"Do not worry, the others are taking care of it." _{fre.ewebnov el.com}

"Others?" Raul muttered and collapsed, gaping in relief.

Just like the 23rd seat said, the other quarters were visited by each member of the 7th Division. It was silent, fast, and brutal. The soldiers of the Iron Brotherhood fell, throats slit, and skulls pierced, their armors were no match for Red Suns’.

In Gilbert Blight’s office, the patriarch sifted through reports, his extravagant robes glittering under rune-lit chandeliers. His sour mood deepened with each glance at the three sixth-star Brotherhood members around the room, two lounging on velvet couches, and one looming behind him.

A knock came.

"Yes," Gilbert said, expecting his butler.

The butler entered, carrying reports.

’Hm, why didn’t he bow?’ Gilbert noticed but dismissed it. Maybe he, too, was nervous.

The butler didn’t say anything, didn’t close the door, and approached Gilbert. The butler approached, placing papers on the desk, and in a blur, too fast for Gilbert’s gaze, a blade flashed,

Pstch....

"Kuak!" the 6th star iron brotherhood behind grunted as a blade was lunged in his shoulder. He had dodged a chest strike.

The two on the couches leaped up, swords drawn, but another figure entered, summoning a massive magic circle. A golden shower erupted, crashing over their heads with a deafening Bang!

The office exploded into chaos, papers scattering, chandeliers swaying.

"What?" Gilbert gasped, frozen.

The butler figure didn’t waste time and reached out his hand, gripping the wounded sixth-star’s armor.

"Withering Touch,"

Black decay spread like a plague, eating through metal and flesh. The soldier screamed, his chest collapsing inward, skin shriveling as his armor crumbled, pain searing his nerves like fire. Unfortunately for him, decay worked better on metal.

’Is that...’ Gilbert’s eyes trembled.

Baines yanked his sword free of his shoulder and swung.

Clang. The sixth-star blocked, his eyes blazing red with madness. "Guh...y-you bastard." The man’s eyes turned red as he blocked the strike. His armor was slowly decaying, yet he stood, his sword up to fight.

’Is that war’s belief?’ He was amazed at the fact that he didn’t flinch in the face of death, no, he even radiated more power in the face of death, that was the war’s belief.

He charged, roaring, his sword slashing wildly.

Baines countered.

Absolute Cut, Sixth Move: Phasing Cut.

His blade hummed, slicing through the air. Shng.

The man froze, then split apart two seconds later, blood spraying in a delayed cascade, organs spilling onto the marble. With the inspiration of the effect of ashenflame, he applied the causality effect on the cut, and it paired well. The only downside was,

"Huuu..." ’My aura has reduced by one-third,’ he exhaled, turning to aid Rakel.

After exploding the golden shower on them, the shower snaked around Rakel’s sword, striking the two sixth-stars.

"Fuck you!" they roared, charging through the explosion, ignoring burns and shrapnel embedded in their flesh. Their fists smashed forward, shaking the building with a Bang!

Blood dripped from charred wounds, their armor pulsing defiantly. However, they didn’t hesitate and jumped on Rakel, who readied his golden shower.

...

At this point, the surviving Brotherhood had already rallied together, already aware of the attack on them. The 7th division had managed to save the important members and came out to fight the Iron Brotherhood.

"Shit! They think their strength scares us?" a sixth-star shouted, rallying his allies behind him. Of course, he was lifting their morale. Because, how then were they consisting of six 6th stars, and about five hundred 5th and 4th stars, expected to defeat a squad of about 90 6th stars.

"Remember, all we do is for brotherhood."

"For Brotherhood!"

They screamed, with some actually grinning maniacally, their war-driven zeal mirroring the barbarians. Because war, battle, chaos, that was where they thrived.

BOOM!

The two sides collided in the estate’s courtyard, a maelstrom of steel and blood.

A Red Sun soldier’s blade severed a Brotherhood warrior’s arm, blood fountaining as the limb thudded to the ground.

An arrow punched through a fifth-star’s eye, brain matter splattering. A Brotherhood sword hacked into a Red Sun shoulder, bone crunching, but the soldier countered, disemboweling his foe, intestines spilling like ropes. Blood soaked the cobblestones, mixing with shattered armor fragments, the air thick with iron and screams.

A Red Sun archer’s arrow pierced a Brotherhood throat, blood gurgling as the man collapsed, clawing at his neck. A fifth-star’s warhammer crushed a Red Sun skull, brain and bone spraying, only for a blade to gut him, his scream cut short as his spine was severed.

The 7th Division’s 90 6th stars overwhelmed the Brotherhood’s numbers, their precision unmatched. A fourth-star’s legs were slashed, tendons snapping, his body crumpling as a sword split his chest, heart exposed, still beating briefly. The courtyard became a slaughterhouse, bodies piling, limbs strewn, blood pooling into crimson rivers.

Inside, another sixth-star burst into Gilbert’s office, rushing to tell Brock of the situation.

"Brock!" he roared, diving to aid his comrades, only to meet Baines’ Heaven Arc.

Bang! The attack lifted him off the ground, his ribs cracking, blood spraying as he crashed into a wall.

Clang. The man blocked Baines’ follow-up, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?" His sword trembled, meeting Baines’ gaze.

Baines didn’t answer, pushing Brock back with a mana surge. A magic circle flared above, facing the floor.

"Withering Rain," he muttered, and black droplets fell, each hissing like acid. The man dodged one—Pshtch—it decayed the marble instantly, leaving a smoking crater.

However, that wasn’t all. It was like a rain that enveloped him.

Gilbert’s eyes were fixed on what he was seeing. If before he wasn’t sure, now he was certain of what he saw,

’This man, how is he using our family’s power?’