Warrior Training System-Chapter 474: Half an Hour of Death

Cassian’s killing intent flared even harder—but for a brief moment, the battlefield around him stalled.

People stared.

The sheer brutality of what he’d just done few froze in thier place. He stood there soaked in blood, some of it still warm on his face, his abdomen torn open, slick with gore. Savage. Unmistakable.

That pause gave him just enough time.

He grabbed what was hanging loose and shoved it back where it belonged. The sight made Theon recoil.

"That’s disgusting," Theon muttered, even as he fired off a shot, dropping a mage who had been lining up a spell on Cassian. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Cassian tipped back a healing potion, the liquid burning down his throat as regeneration surged faster. Flesh pulled together. Skin knit closed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lifted his head.

His eyes scanned the enemy ranks—not for the strongest, not for the closest.

He was looking for familiarity.

Anyone who had stood in a cult camp beside him. Anyone who had eaten, laughed, trained with him the way Robert had.

He wanted them to see his face.

To recognize it.

To feel that same shock. That same betrayal. That same cold realization that someone they’d trusted was standing right in front of them, alive—and killing them.

That was why he didn’t hide. Why he didn’t mask himself.

If even one of them understood what he’d felt when Robert turned out to be a traitor, that would be enough.

His vision burned red—partly from his Domain surging, partly from the blood streaking down his face. He didn’t wipe it away.

"Cover me," Cassian said, voice low and steady. "I’m gonna cleare up some space."

Theon nodded without hesitation.

Cassian moved.

He charged straight toward the cluster of Wretched Vessels shielding the cult mages—the same group Althea and Lumine were already pressuring from range. With the mages occupied, Cassian slipped in, his steps light, controlled.

He used the Gale Whisper Sword Style footwork—but sparingly. He’d learned his lesson. No need to show everything. In the last fight, even a simple Phantom Gust had been enough to terrify and kill two Circle Warriors.

Now? Less was more.

The mutated cultists were already shaken. Seeing two First Circle Warriors cut down like that had rattled them badly. Some started backing away on instinct.

"Cover us—fall back!" one of the mages shouted.

Too late.

Mana bullets screamed overhead as Althea, Lumine, and Theon poured fire into the formation, pinning them in place. Cassian was already among them. Blades came down toward him in panic, crude weapons swung with desperation.

He didn’t stop.

One cultist raised his sword to block.

Cassian stepped in, dropped low, and drove his blade upward in a clean thrust. At the same time, he murmured under his breath, calm and precise—

"Gale Whisper Sword — First Form: Thousand Leaves Dance."

The air shifted.

Around him, blades started coming down—but Cassian was already moving.

A gust followed his steps, light but sharp. Three cultists at the front were caught in it, their bodies suddenly laced with dozens of shallow cuts, blood spraying as they were thrown backward by the force.

Cassian sidestepped past them without slowing, staying low as he drove his sword upward, killing another cultist cleanly. He kept moving, this time in a smooth curve to the left, then flowing back to the right, his blade whispering through the air.

Hollow Fangs still surrounded him, weapons hacking down in panic, but Cassian didn’t need to cut through all of them.

He only needed one mage.

Out of the four anchoring the formation, he lunged toward the nearest. The mage flinched, dragging his mana shield up just in time to block the incoming sword.

The strike stopped—but through the translucent barrier, the mage saw Cassian clearly.

His face was smeared with blood. His eyes glowed red beneath it, hair dark and heavy with gore. The red pressure of his Domain pressed in around him, making him look less like a man and more like something out of a nightmare.

The mage froze.

That hesitation was enough.

A mana bullet tore through the side of the mage’s head, exiting cleanly. The shield collapsed as the body fell.

Cassian smiled—wide, feral.

He’d almost forgotten about the weapons still coming at him.

If not for his warrior instincts—his sensitivity to the slightest shift in air—Cassian would’ve been hit. Even so, he barely managed to dodge them all. It helped that none of the attackers were Circle Warriors. If even one of them had been, he would’ve been badly hurt. Healing or not, a clean strike to the head wasn’t something you walked off easily.

He looked up just as more Hollow Fangs rushed toward him—

And then they dropped.

Mana bullets tore through them before they could close the distance.

"You asshole—get back here!" Lumine shouted, firing again. "Don’t rush ahead like that or I’ll kill you myself, bastard!"

She sounded furious.

Cassian grimaced, lifting his hands slightly in surrender before backing off. The rage boiling inside him finally ebbed, enough for reason to creep back in.

Moments later, horns sounded—clear, sharp signals of retreat from both sides.

The fighting slowed, then pulled back in waves as soldiers disengaged and returned toward their respective camps.

Theon let out a long breath, his shoulders finally sagging."That was... chaotic," he muttered.

Cassian didn’t argue.

"Most battles are, kid," Shera said, resting her hammer against the ground. It was still dripping—blood and bits of what had once been a mage’s head sliding down the metal.

Lumine, meanwhile, was glaring daggers at Cassian. She hated the way he fought—charging ahead, ignoring his own safety, caring only about killing.

"If you want to get stabbed that badly, let me do it, you fucker," she snapped. "Don’t go rushing ahead asking the enemy to stick something up your ass."

A few of the others looked away awkwardly, suddenly very interested in checking their weapons or armor. The start of a lover’s quarrel was not something anyone wanted to stand in the middle of.

Wanni, clearly uncomfortable, hurried to fill the silence when Cassian didn’t respond."Wasn’t the battle kind of short?" she asked. "I thought it’d go on for hours before either side called a retreat."

"Well, the front line engaged before we did," Shera said calmly. "Retreats are usually called from there. And half an hour of fighting is more than enough time for a lot of people to die."

Everyone nodded, looking out over the battlefield as both sides began dealing with the aftermath. Units moved carefully, dragging away the wounded and collecting the dead.

Even the cult retrieved their fallen. Sometimes they tried to take bodies that weren’t theirs too—which was exactly why a strong presence was needed during moments like this. On their side, powerful Circle Warriors stayed alert, watching closely to make sure no one crossed lines as the retrieval of the injured and dead got underway.