Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 2990

Prescott was fuming with rage, realizing that he was set up. Everything had been an act, staged by Andrew for both him and Garal.

"The Ludendorff family will make sure you die without a grave!" Prescott roared again in fury.

He could only see afterimages flashing wildly before his eyes. He curled his body defensively, constantly changing direction mid-air.

Yet, it was useless.

Andrew was like a parasite, appearing at his side no matter where he moved. Behind his neck, above his head, and even below him, Andrew was always there.

Prescott broke out in a cold sweat. He thought Andrew was too strong, so strong that Prescott could not even track his movements.

It was simply impossible.

Prescott had only ever felt this kind of terror when facing Raiden, and that had been more than 20 years ago. Back then, he had not yet become a martial god and had not yet reached his peak state.

Now, he was at the peak of his life, yet that same horrifying feeling had returned.

Prescott knew it was not that he had grown weaker. It was because this lunatic stood on a level that completely crushed him.

A burning pain flared along the left side of his body. The attack had not landed yet, but his martial god instincts screamed that a fatal strike was coming from the left.

Without hesitation, Prescott turned and faced left. Between his hands, a massive storm of energy gathered and was shoved forward with all his strength. Once again, he hit nothing, as if striking empty air.

With a sharp hiss, a greatsword punched through from behind. It pierced straight through Prescott's chest and emerged from the front. The reddened blade seemed to carry terrifying heat.

Prescott smelled his own blood being scorched. His throat released a choking, gurgling sound as blood flooded out. Bloody foam spilled endlessly from the corner of his mouth.

What he saw were two figures suspended in midair. One was being held by the head, writhing in agony. Meanwhile, the other stood cold and composed, his aura so overwhelming it made the scalp prickle.

"Prescott!" Garal exclaimed, then let out a broken laugh in despair. He threw up another mouthful of blood and collapsed to his knees. He could not understand how things had spiraled into this outcome.

How had Andrew suddenly transformed so drastically, becoming so terrifyingly powerful?

With his first move, Andrew had crippled him and blasted him off the city wall, nearly killing him. With his second, he had crushed Prescott, leaving him no chance to escape, and captured him with ease.

Garal felt genuine fear, deep and instinctive. He was a famed powerhouse of the Ludendorff family and a ruler in his own right. Yet at this moment, he felt as fragile as a newborn.

In the deathly silence, Andrew's voice rang out calmly. "From this moment on, Abyss City is under Dragonfang's control. The city guards will remain at their posts. Anyone who resists or attempts to flee will die!"