Chapter 537: Thank You Brian

Silence crashed across the entire field, the words of Patriarch Kinsley still echoing.

Damian knelt in the snow, his body radiating power of the Blood Sovereign State.

Undeniable proof of his lineage, broadcast to billions of watching people across every screen in the Federation.

Whispers started spreading through the assembled crowd, quiet at first, then building.

"He really is–"

"A Bloodworth survived–"

"The last one–"

"How is this possible–"

"They said they were all dead–"

Among Squad Ten, Helena’s legs gave out completely.

She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face without control, her hands pressed against her mouth.

’He’s going to die.’

The thought cut through everything else.

’They’re going to kill him right here and we can’t do anything to stop it... He... He is just a kid!’

Fingers closed around her shoulder, the grip firm but not painful.

The Sword Demon pulled her closer, his weathered face showing no surprise or shock at the revelation.

"Do you understand now, girl?"

His hand tightened fractionally on her shoulder.

"These Patriarchs were never the heroes of our world. The ones who were..."

His voice became quieter.

"...are long since dead."

Helena’s sobs broke through her attempts at control, her body shaking.

Around them, the other Squad Ten members stood frozen, their faces showing horror as understanding settled with terrible clarity.

****

Killing intent erupted from the Patriarchs simultaneously.

The pressure slammed outward in waves, crushing down on everyone within a close distance.

Weaker soldiers collapsed to their knees, hands pressing against the ground as their bodies refused to stand under the weight.

Royce Patriarch’s orange eyes blazed brighter, his face completely devoid of any emotions.

Ashford’s grey hair began lifting, moving in wind that came from nowhere as power radiated from his frame.

Cross’s hands clenched into fists, knuckles cracking with sounds like breaking stone.

And Kinsley...

Kinsley’s hand rose, fingers extending toward Brian’s matted brown hair.

Then he leaned down, his movements almost tender, and pressed his lips against the top of Brian’s head.

The kiss lasted one heartbeat, gentle and wrong.

Brian’s body went rigid, confusion bleeding through the madness in his eyes.

"Thank you, Brian."

Kinsley straightened, his smile widening as he looked down at the broken man.

"You’ve done well."

His voice emerged soft and almost kind.

"Your sacrifice revealed the truth we needed, exposed the lie that almost fooled us completely."

His hands moved, settling on either side of Brian’s head with surprising gentleness.

"And as a reward for your invaluable contribution..."

His fingers tightened fractionally, his blue eyes gleaming.

"I shall end your suffering."

’No–’

The thought flashed through Damian’s mind, brief and desperate.

But before his body could react, before his mouth could open to scream or beg or do anything–

RIIIIIIIP

Kinsley’s hands pulled.

The sound cut across the field like tearing fabric, wet and horrible.

Brian’s body separated from skull to groin, split perfectly down the center as muscle, bones and organs divided.

The two halves fell forward, tumbling through the air.

And both pieces landed directly on Damian’s outstretched form.

THUD THUD

Blood sprayed across his face, his chest and his arms.

Brian’s dead eyes stared at him from half a face, the expression frozen in something between confusion and hope.

Damian just... sat there.

His hand remained extended, fingers still reaching for where his friend had been moments ago.

The crimson marks across his skin pulsed with his heartbeat, the Blood Sovereign state blazing around him.

But his eyes showed nothing, completely empty, staring at the pieces of Brian scattered across his body.

His mouth hung slightly open, breath coming shallow, but no words emerged and no thoughts formed.

Kinsley looked down at the scene, his smile never fading, satisfaction bleeding through his pleasant expression.

"You know, if you had managed to not react, if you had controlled your instincts and let them all die without revealing yourself..."

His voice carried clearly despite not being raised.

"I would have believed you were just a talented commoner with unfortunate coloring and spared your life."

He gestured broadly, encompassing the field and the watching crowd.

"After all, the Federation still needs people like you and your talent would be quite useful against the other races threatening our survival."

His blue eyes found Damian’s empty face, studying the lack of response.

"But you really are just like your father, aren’t you?"

The words landed with finality.

"Damian Bloodworth."

The name rang across the field, broadcast to billions, confirmation of what everyone had just witnessed.

Damian sat there blankly, his gaze locked on Brian’s severed remains.

Kinsley’s head tilted, the movement curious.

"Hm?"

His voice gained mock concern.

"Why aren’t you saying anything? Not even a final curse or desperate plea?"

He crouched down, bringing his face level with Damian’s.

"Ah... You must have really loved your friend dearly."

Understanding bled into his expression, something almost sympathetic.

"How cruel of me, making you watch someone you cared about die so horribly."

He stood again, his robes swirling with the motion.

"As your granduncle, I can’t simply watch you suffer like this."

His hands spread wide, the gesture almost welcoming.

"It hurts my heart, seeing my family in such pain. So let me help you."

His smile became radiant, genuine warmth bleeding through.

"I’ll reunite you with your friend, with your father, with your mother and brother, with your entire family. You’ll all be together again, isn’t that wonderful?"

His hand rose, fingers spreading as power began gathering.

"Come now, let me end this suffering for you."

Blue light flickered between his palm and Damian’s kneeling form, reality warping as the attack prepared to erase him from existence.

But before the energy could release–

Sigh

The sound cut across the field, soft but carrying weight that made everyone pause.

WHOOSH

And a figure materialized directly between Kinsley’s hand and Damian.

Black Military Police uniform, crisp and perfect despite everything.

Felix Onyx stood with his back to Damian, facing the Imperial Patriarchs without visible fear.

Silence crashed across the field like someone had cut all sound.

Every camera swiveled, every eye tracked toward the Vice Director who’d just placed himself between a Patriarch and his target.