Chapter 97 – End of Salazar (2)
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"What?" Garrett was confused, but his eyes dulled and confusion was wiped from his face as he continued, "Even so, the young will have seeds of revenge in their hearts. After we are done with you we will hunt those that ran."

The man looked frustrated. "Do you not understand? We wish to live in peace, we have already begun turning this place into a haven of peace. We want nothing to do with this war or the sins of others. We wish to live in peace." 

"You carry the blood of Salazar, that is enough."

Like a beast, Garrett's muscles bulged as his assault on the Captain continued. Garrett, an aggressive brawler known for his brute strength, wore simple leather armor. Meanwhile, Alexis the seasoned captain of the palace guard was encased in plated armor from head to toe.

Garrett's savage strikes easily overpowered Alexis's refined defensive techniques. The captain attempted to counter, but his movements seemed slow and cumbersome compared to Garrett's lightning-fast attacks.

The armor began to cave and Alexis's armor soon leaked blood from its joints and sockets. He was forced to the ground, barely able to move.

"Stop! Stop! That's enough, he's lost!" The girl behind the old man couldn't control herself and screamed out in anguish. 

"Does he carry the blood of Salazar?" Garrett emotionlessly directed his eyes to the old man that still stood before him, unnerved.

"No! He was an orphan my mother took in! Please let him go!"

"So you're saying he is like family? That's enough of a reason."

Garrett heaved his axe overhead and brought it crashing down on Alexis's chest plate. The captain could only watch helplessly as the sharp steel split through his armor like butter. He wanted to cry out in pain, but only managed a weak gasp as the axe lodged itself deep in his chest.

Alexis grasped feebly at the weapon now protruding from his ribcage, struggling to breathe. The light faded from his eyes as his lungs gave out and his body went limp.

"You monster! How could you! How could you kill him!" The girl was sobbing as tears streamed down her face and collected on the ground.

Garrett ignored her and looked at the old man who was in charge. 

"Surrender and accept your deaths. Tell me where the rest of you are."

Turning around, the old man walked over to the girl and comforted her. While he did this his voice clear as day entered Garrett's ears. 

"I will not tell you a damn thing," the old man growled. "We're going to have our peace, even if I have to spill every last drop of your blood to get it. You are a fool, failing to see you are just a tool being controlled."

With a grunt, Garrett swung his axe and severed the corpse's head before him. He took it and began to walk back to the battlefield.

Garrett stood at the top of the broad marble staircase leading up to the palace entrance. The once-pristine stone was now stained with blood from the ongoing battle.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the metallic scent of death that hung in the air. At the top of his lungs, his voice boomed out and echoed across the palace grounds...

"Look here! Your leader is dead! Surrender or die!" 

His words vibrated even to the ground as his voice projected into everyone's minds. Stunned, those still living looked towards him and saw the head he was holding in his hands.

Surprisingly the guards then looked past Garrett towards the old man. Seeing he was still alive they turned back to the battle and attacked the Rebels who had thought they had won. 

Puzzled, Garrett focused on the battlefield and saw a patch where the guards were low in number. He ran over and began to eliminate them one by one with the help of his men distracting them.

It was a quick cleanup and a few rebels looked towards him to see what his orders were.

"Forget the battle, we have to kill the head. Follow me."

Garrett returned to the old man but this time he had some soldiers behind him. 

"Surrender your life or die."

The old man laughed. "Then you will never know where the rest are, there are many hidden places in the Palace. You may never find all of them."

Saying nothing, he raised his axe and veered it towards the old man. A loud crack was heard and Garrett saw his axe lodged in the cane of the man. It didn't even reach halfway through and it was already stopped.

"Who are you old man?" 

"I am the father of Julius Salazar. Salaman Salazar. I am not as talented as my son but I wouldn't count myself out."

Salaman flicked his wrist and his cane forced Garrett's battle-axe away. He stood up as his robes seemed to come alive, moving like an apparition. 

"Back up and wait for me to defeat him!" Garrett commanded his men as he took out an object from his pocket. It was a ball of congealed blood, it looked disturbing yet tempting. 

In one quick motion, Garrett swallowed the sanguine orb. As it slid down his throat, an eerie warmth spread through his veins.

Upon reaching his stomach, the metallic liquid unfurled rapidly like the roots of a tree, coursing to the farthest edges of his body.

He felt invigorated by the energy it gave him as his body became more defined and he felt power course through his veins.

"What type of sorcery have you done to yourself?"

Grinning, Garrett mockingly replied, "What sorcery? This is a boon from the Lord!" 

Salaman tapped his cane on the ground as the air around him shifted. It was too small to see but he had released numerous pathogens and sent them towards Garrett. Before, he couldn't even be able to react, but now as these pathogens neared him he felt danger and acted appropriately.

He took out a bomb and threw it at where the pathogens were coming from. A mist was released from the bomb and created distortion in the air. As the two entangled the mist neutralized the pathogens and Salaman's brow heightened.

"What do you think of these gadgets, they are produced by the Church! They can neutralize most diseases that are still airborne!"

"Interesting but that's not all I have."

Salaman put two hands on his cane and pulled out a hidden sword. It was short and as white as snow, it looked abnormal due to its scabbard being an old and aged cane. It was as if Salaman was keeping a swan in a pig pen.

"I am a master of one of the 10 divine techniques! I will not be defeated by the likes of you!"

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