Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Lucy, having lost all restraint, moved with terrifying speed toward the man holding Lucas hostage. The man, already trembling as he felt the weight of Lucy's gaze, tightened his grip on the sword, desperately trying to press it against Lucas's neck.

But it was too late.

Lucas remained calm, knowing that the sword posed no real threat to him. His current golem body was impervious to such a mundane weapon. As the blade made contact with his neck, it barely scratched the surface, leaving Lucas completely unfazed.

The man, still oblivious to the impending danger, tightened his grip on the sword, pushing the blade harder against Lucas's neck. He smirked, his voice dripping with overconfidence. "Stay back, or I'll—"

His words faltered as his eyes caught something terrifying.

Lucy was no longer standing where she had been. In a blink, she was upon him, her Volcanic Dragon Claw blazing with fiery intensity, extended toward him with deadly precision. The air around her seemed to vibrate with her fury, heat radiating off her in suffocating waves.

The man's breath hitched, and the smugness vanished from his face. His eyes went wide with sheer terror as he realized how dire the situation had become. The blade in his hand, the one pressed against Lucas's neck, trembled as fear gripped him.
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"W-wait," he stammered, his voice shaking. "I was just—"

Lucy didn't let him finish. Her movements were swift and decisive, fueled by pure rage. In one smooth motion, her burning claw wrapped around his skull, her fingers digging into his skin like iron pincers. The man's body went rigid as he felt the heat of her claws searing into his flesh.

His eyes bulged with panic, darting wildly, desperately searching for an escape that didn't exist. "P-please… I didn't mean—"

Lucy's face remained expressionless, but her eyes blazed with a dangerous fury. Her voice was low, almost a growl, carrying the weight of a predator about to strike. "How dare you."

Her words weren't loud, but they cut through the man's attempts at pleading like a blade. His entire body trembled, knowing those were the last words he would ever hear. He tried to pull back, to escape her grasp, but it was too late.

Without breaking eye contact, Lucy activated Eruption. The heat surged through her Volcanic Dragon Claw, intensifying to an unbearable degree.

"Please—!" The man's voice cracked, his plea turning into a scream, but it was too late.

In an instant, his head exploded under the sheer force of her power, the heat disintegrating it into a gruesome rain of blood and ash. The remains of his skull scattered across the battlefield in a crimson spray, coating the ground and nearby onlookers in the grisly aftermath.

Everyone watching stood frozen in shock. The entire battlefield felt suffocated by the weight of what had just happened.

Caius and his subordinates, who had been so confident moments ago, were paralyzed in disbelief. The brutal, sudden execution of their comrade had shattered their resolve, draining any confidence they once had.

For a brief moment, it was as though time itself had stopped. The wind, the distant sound of clashing steel—everything was drowned out by the silence that now hung over the battlefield like a dark cloud.

Caius's face twisted between fear and rage. His eyes flicked from the lifeless body of his subordinate to Lucy, who stood in the aftermath of her violent display, her fiery aura still burning hot, daring anyone to challenge her. He could feel the tremor in his own hands. He had underestimated her—badly.

For a split second, uncertainty flickered in his eyes. She's far more dangerous than I thought, Caius admitted to himself. But there was no time to hesitate.

His fear morphed into desperation. He clenched his fists, his voice quivering despite the bravado he tried to maintain.

"K-kill her!" he ordered, trying to sound commanding, but the crack in his voice betrayed his anxiety. His subordinates exchanged nervous glances, clearly just as terrified. But none of them dared disobey. They had no choice.

The remaining fighters, their faces pale, gripped their weapons tightly and charged at Lucy. Their steps were hesitant, but the fear of Caius's wrath—or perhaps the fear of what might happen if they didn't act—pushed them forward.

As they advanced, their trembling hands were barely able to hold their swords steady, but they rushed at her all the same. Desperation clung to them like a heavy fog.

Caius, however, had no intention of waiting to see if they could manage to touch Lucy. His eyes narrowed, determination hardening his expression. He raised his arms, calling upon the full force of his power. His voice echoed with a desperate intensity.

"Dominion of Storms!" he shouted, his tone filled with fury and a hint of panic.

A colossal storm erupted across the battlefield, far more powerful and destructive than anything Caius had summoned before.

The air around them grew dense, charged with raw, crackling electrical energy. Fierce gales tore through the sky, howling with a savage ferocity as the ground beneath them began to tremble violently.

Bolts of lightning ripped through the air, striking the battlefield with deafening cracks of thunder. The earth beneath the fighters quaked as the sheer force of the storm intensified.

The violent vortex of wind and lightning consumed everything in its path, the devastating power threatening to overwhelm anyone caught within its reach.

Caius stood at the center of the storm, his face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation. His chest heaved as he poured every ounce of his strength into maintaining the storm.

The wind whipped around him, tearing at his cloak as lightning flashed dangerously close. He hoped, prayed, that this would be enough.

But across the battlefield, Lucy stood unshaken, her burning Volcanic Dragon Claws glowing with a fierce intensity. Her eyes never left Caius, her expression as calm and menacing as ever, as if the storm raging around her was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

Meanwhile, from a safe distance, Lucas watched the chaos unfold with a calm and almost eerie detachment.

His arms crossed, he stood at the edge of the swirling maelstrom, entirely unbothered by the violent storm ripping through the battlefield. The flashes of lightning illuminated his face in brief moments, casting shadows that danced across his features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Now the show is getting better," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the storm.

There was no fear in his gaze—only curiosity, as though he were watching a particularly interesting spectacle.