Regressor of the Fallen Family novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Regressor of the Fallen Family Chapter 121

No normal emotional state could find pleasure in witnessing a body split in half, spewing out its innards.

Especially if it was by ones own hands.

Yet, there Logan stood, with a pallid face dripping with cold sweat, wearing a bright smile.

It wasnt because he had a perverse penchant for murder.

Aaaahhh!

Crunch.

A hand clenches involuntarily, a thrilling shudder coursing through to the tips of his nerves.

He had reached a realm in his current life that he could never have dreamed of in his past.

If superhumans were considered above humans, he had achieved the pinnacle for a human being.

I did it!

A pure joy overlappedthe joy of overcoming life-threatening danger and the exhilaration of feeling elevated, almost like ascending to a higher existence.

Despite his poor physical state, this joy made Logan exclaim in delight.

But there wasnt room to revel in this bliss just yet.

Aaack!

Just as the screams seemed to fade, they echoed once more.

Logan stiffened his face and rushed toward the residence like the wind.

Fortunately, Logans pride was met with due consequences.

As he entered the residence, he saw mostly the corpses of black-masked attackers, with scarcely a McLaine soldier or knight in sight.

One of them had even been pierced by the soldiers quarrels as Logan discovered and charged at them.

This sight relieved Logan.

Whats the damage?

Theres nothing confirmed yet

BOOOOM!

Logan and the knight who had been responding instantly turned their gaze north.

Father!

My lord!

At that moment, Logan dashed northward like the breeze.

Ching! Bang! Boom!

Bloodcurdling screams rang out from the northern annex where the lord and his wife resided.

A one-sided fight was underway, with the bright red of the Force Blade catching everyones attention.

One was barely managing to block the blows, firmly standing his ground, while the other, as if to mock him, cleverly sneaked in stabs.

Even this was enough for Patrick McLaine, standing his ground, to accumulate more and more injuries.

Whether it was from biting his lip in concentration or an internal injury, blood trickled from his mouth, and the situation was turning increasingly dire.

Honey! Im fine! Just fight!

Marianne Kaiross desperate cries could be heard.

She might not have the ability or power to fight, but she understood enough to know the cause of her husbands injuries.

Nonetheless, Patrick did not budge from blocking the door, taking hit after hit.

Such folly, thought Logan, watching this scene while clenching his teeth.

It was a frustrating sight, a self-defeating move, but profoundly fatherly in a way.

Luckily, Logan had the power to change this irritating scene.

Retaining his sprinting speed, he swiftly positioned himself behind the intruder.

He announced the end of the intruders fun, grasping the weakness and gleefully swinging his sword.

Sorry, pal!

Thud!

Ugh?!

Well talk in a bit.

A bloody smile brightened the face of the man who had received a blade in the back for the first time.

* * *

All thirteen attackers you apprehended have been confirmed dead, except one. All killed in the residence appear to be intermediate-grade Force users.

Our casualties?

Five soldiers dead, twelve injured. And Lord Patrick has suffered serious wounds.

Are you certain?

The damage was remarkably low, given the level of the attackers. Surprisingly, so.

Seeing Logans surprise, the knight added,

Its true. My personal opinion, sir, it seems like they didnt do their homework on us at all before the ambush, especially regarding our repeating crossbows.

Hm so it seems.

Could they be from Yordan Valdermaines side?

If these attackers had talked even briefly with Roger Bifrostth, they wouldnt have made such amateur mistakes.

There was one clear suspect, which shook Logans firm suspicions.

But then again.

Roger Bifrost might not have said anything, or maybe Yordan didnt.

Logan felt the need to have a conversation with his newly-acquainted friend.

Where are you from?

Valdermaine?

Name?

Are you male?

For more than ten minutes, only one-sided chatter continued.

His over-silent friend, chained in steel, had nothing to say.

Better start talking somehow.

Whether it would be cursing or lying, one needed the prisoner to start talking to dig anything useful from him.

Thus, masters of torture in Logans past life often started by chatting about known topics.

But this guy showed no reaction at all.

Perhaps because Logan had placed a blade in his back right from the start, and then cut all the tendons in his limbs to prevent escape.

Maybe I went too far.

Only rage simmered in his eyes, while his lips refused to part.

Logan had no special talent for tortureneither had any McLaine from a rural territory.

Stuck at peak condition, and you die as nothing but an assassin? Seems like a waste for a knight, doesnt it?

Even after several attempts, the same expression stayed frozen, unchanging.

Hmm, I see. I respect that then. Goodbye.

Swoosh.

It was nice meeting you.

Lord!

The guard yelped in alarm as Logan stood up, drawing his blade promptly after talking to himself in the cell.

Both Logan and the prisoner remained expressionless, except for one minor detail.

Yordan Valdermaine sure picked loyal subordinates.

That last remark caused the prisoners lips to twitch slightly.