Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

The patriarch of the Emberhart family wasted no time. His rage, ignited by the horrifying sight of his son's mangled body, consumed him entirely.

Fury twisted his features as he clenched his fists, his entire form radiating heat. With an enraged roar, he surged forward, his fist engulfed in searing flames, the air around him warping with heat as he prepared to unleash his signature attack—Fire Fist.

"Die!" he bellowed, his voice raw with grief and fury. His blazing fist hurtled toward Lucas, burning with the intent to kill.

But before his attack could reach its target, a figure stepped in with fluid grace—Roxana. Her confident smile shone through the intensity of the moment, as though the patriarch's anger amused her more than it intimidated her.

"Hold on a second," she said, her tone almost playful, laced with excitement. "Let me handle him." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with the prospect of a challenge. "I feel like having some fun."

Her words seemed to hang in the air for just a moment before she moved. In a blur of speed, Roxana intercepted the patriarch's flaming strike with nothing more than her bare hand. Flames crackled against her skin, but she deflected the attack as though it were nothing, causing the patriarch to stagger back in disbelief.

"Out of my way!" the patriarch snarled, his voice dripping with venom as his eyes blazed with fury. He locked his gaze on Lucas, pure hatred burning in his stare. "I'm going to kill him!"

Roxana's smirk only widened as she stepped directly into the patriarch's path, blocking his every attempt to move past her. Her posture was casual, her expression maddeningly calm.

"Kill him?" she echoed, raising a brow as she tilted her head in mock curiosity. "That's a bit rude, don't you think?" Her voice was laced with amusement, her smirk never fading.

"If you want to get to him, though..." Her eyes narrowed, a playful challenge dancing in them as her tone dropped to something more dangerous. "You'll have to go through me first."

The patriarch's expression twisted further, his anger intensifying with every word she spoke. His fists tightened, flames roaring back to life as he growled, "You dare mock me?"

"Mock you?" Roxana's laughter was light, almost mocking in itself. "Oh no, I'm just trying to have a bit of fun. You're the one who's taking this far too seriously." She crossed her arms, her eyes glinting as if daring him to strike again. "Come on, show me what you've got."

The patriarch's frustration reached its boiling point. His teeth clenched in barely contained rage as his fists ignited once more, flames roaring to life, licking the air around him like wild beasts.

With a feral snarl, he swung at Roxana, each strike accompanied by a surge of fiery power, his anger driving him to attack with everything he had.

"Die!" he roared, his voice cracking under the weight of his fury.

But Roxana didn't flinch. Not even a hint of fear crossed her face. Instead, she moved with fluid grace, effortlessly sidestepping the blazing fists.

Her movements were calm, almost leisurely, as if she found his attacks nothing more than an annoyance. Each strike he threw was easily deflected, her arms moving with casual precision.

With a single, well-timed push, Roxana sent the patriarch stumbling backward, his balance faltering. He skidded to a halt, his face twisted in shock, disbelief etched into every line of his expression.

"Impossible..." he muttered, his voice shaky, eyes wide with confusion. "How can you...?" He trailed off, his mind refusing to accept what was happening.

Roxana's smirk deepened, amusement flickering in her eyes. She took a leisurely step toward him, her tone dripping with mockery.

"Come on," she teased, cocking her head slightly as if addressing a child. "You can't be that weak, can you?" Her eyes narrowed, the smirk curling into something darker. "Or are you just like your son?"

The insult hit home. The patriarch's face contorted, a twisted mix of rage and humiliation as his entire body trembled. His aura flared wildly around him, flames erupting from his body in an uncontrolled blaze, fueled by the deep well of his anger. The air itself seemed to sizzle with heat as he let out a deafening roar, his voice raw with fury.

"You dare mock me?!" he bellowed, his face flushed with rage as the flames around him grew hotter, more intense.

He charged at Roxana, his body consumed by the inferno of his own making. Flames burst from his fists and arms as he swung at her again, every ounce of his strength behind each strike.

But Roxana didn't move. She stood her ground, completely unbothered by the blazing storm heading her way.

Her eyes gleamed with an almost bored expression as she watched him come closer. When he was just inches from her, ready to land his blow, she casually raised her hand and caught his flaming fist in her palm, extinguishing the fire instantly.

The patriarch's eyes bulged in disbelief, his body freezing as he realized what had just happened. "W-What…?"

Roxana leaned in slightly, her voice low but taunting. "Is that really all you've got?" she asked, her words dripping with derision. "I expected more from someone who talks so much." She gave him a light push, and despite the gentleness of the gesture, he staggered back as though hit by a truck.

His heart pounded in his chest, fear now creeping into his rage. How could she be this strong? How could she stop him so effortlessly?

"You..." he muttered, his hands shaking as he tried to summon more power, but doubt clouded his mind.

Roxana crossed her arms, her smirk never leaving her lips. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice now filled with mock pity. "Are you already tired? Or maybe you're just like your son—weak and useless." Experience more on мѵʟ

Meanwhile, Lucas shifted his focus to the two elders who had accompanied the patriarch. Their grim expressions darkened further as their eyes fell upon the mutilated body of their young master. Fury and disbelief rippled across their faces, but they remained silent for a moment, the tension in the air palpable.

Lucas stood before them, his posture relaxed, exuding an unsettling calm. His eyes flicked between the two men, reading their growing anger. "So," he said, breaking the silence, his voice soft but with a chilling edge. "It looks like you're my opponents, then."

One of the elders took a step forward, his hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening. His lips curled back in a snarl as he locked eyes with Lucas. "You've crossed a line," he growled, his voice low and filled with barely-contained rage. "We will avenge the young master. Your death is certain."

The other elder nodded in agreement, his gaze burning with the same icy fury. "You have no idea what kind of wrath you've brought upon yourself," he added, his tone cold as a winter storm. "This ends here."

Lucas's lips curled into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it. His eyes, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, moved between the two elders. "Oh, really?" he asked, his voice carrying a quiet, almost playful tone. "You think you can avenge him?"

His words hung in the air for a moment, sinking into the growing tension between them.

The first elder's face twisted in anger at Lucas's nonchalance. "You arrogant fool!" he barked, taking another step forward, his fists now trembling with rage. "We will tear you apart for what you've done!"

Lucas let out a soft chuckle, his gaze never wavering. "Tear me apart, huh?" He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "I wonder... can you even try?"

The elders' eyes blazed with fury, their auras flaring as they prepared to strike. But Lucas remained eerily still, his eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "Go ahead," he said, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Let's see if you can."

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