Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

For the past few months, Lucas and Roxana had left a trail of devastation across the land, systematically dismantling noble families that had once plotted in the shadows.

Estates that once stood tall now lay in ruins, scorched and broken, their strongest fighters unable to stand against the overwhelming power of the duo.

Word of their relentless attacks spread like wildfire, and soon, fear gripped the hearts of nobles and commoners alike.

The names Lucas and Roxana became synonymous with death and destruction, whispered in terrified tones behind closed doors. Families that had once flaunted their power now quaked in fear, waiting for their turn to be annihilated.

In lavish mansions and dimly lit chambers, the nobles gathered, their voices trembling with anger and desperation.

"This madness must stop!" a nobleman bellowed, slamming his fist onto the ornate table before him. His face was red with frustration, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

"They've wiped out the Duronis, the Ruther, and even the Verik family! Who's next? Are we just going to wait for them to come for us?!"

Murmurs of agreement echoed through the room, the tension palpable as another noble, his face pale with anxiety, leaned forward.

"We are the nobles of this kingdom!" he hissed, his voice shaking. "Are we not under the protection of the Lionhart family? Why hasn't the royal family intervened yet? Do they expect us to fend for ourselves while these monsters destroy us one by one?"

The room erupted in a cacophony of panicked voices, each noble airing their grievances, their fear fueling their outrage.

Sweat dripped down the face of a plump noblewoman as she wrung her hands. "What will become of us?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Who will protect us if even the Verik family could not stand against them?"

The nobles' collective fear turned to a single solution: demand protection from the Lionhart family, the most powerful royal family in the kingdom.

Their combined wealth and influence made them essential to the royal court, and they knew it. It was only a matter of time before the king had no choice but to listen.

In the grand halls of the Lionhart palace, King Lionel sat regally on his throne, the dim light casting sharp shadows across his chiseled features. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of controlled fury as he listened to the latest reports of Lucas and Roxana's path of destruction.

Beside him, standing tall and unwavering, was his most trusted general, General Valen. Valen, an eight-star fighter, was a man known for his unmatched strength and unwavering loyalty to the crown. His face was stoic, unreadable, as he awaited the king's command.

Lionel's voice, when it came, was calm and measured, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of irritation in his tone. His patience, it seemed, was wearing thin. "The nobles are growing restless, General."

He paused for a moment, his sharp gaze flicking to Valen. "Their estates are being reduced to rubble. Their so-called strongest fighters are being slaughtered like lambs. This... this cannot continue."

Valen nodded slightly, his expression impassive, though a keen observer might have detected the slightest hint of tension in the air.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Valen replied, his voice low and composed. "Lucas and his accomplice, Roxana, must be dealt with swiftly. If we let this go on any longer, it will only embolden others to challenge the authority of the Lionhart family."

Lionel's lips twisted into a cold, humorless smile. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "The nobles are starting to doubt us, General.

They forget why they bow to me in the first place. But I will remind them." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intensifying. "I want them to know that defying the Lionhart family is not just foolish—it is fatal."

Valen met Lionel's gaze, his own expression unwavering. "Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will not allow their actions to continue. Lucas and Roxana will be destroyed."

Lionel's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Good." He rose from his throne, pacing slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "Find them. Hunt them down like the vermin they are. And when you do..." His voice turned sharp. "End them.

Leave no room for mercy."

Valen bowed deeply, his posture rigid. "I will bring their heads back to you, Your Majesty." His voice was steady, filled with unwavering resolve.

Lionel turned his gaze back to Valen, a small, satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Go," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Remind these nobles why they serve me."

Valen turned on his heel, his movements precise and calculated. His footsteps echoed through the grand hall as he left the throne room, already preparing to fulfill his mission.

As the massive doors closed behind him, Lionel's smirk faded, his face hardening into a cold mask of determination. His eyes lingered on the horizon, as if he could already see the moment of reckoning for Lucas and Roxana.

"Your reign of terror will end soon," Lionel muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with finality. "No one defies the Lionhart family and lives to tell the tale."

Meanwhile, Lucas and Roxana soared through the sky, the wind whipping through their hair as they flew over the land they had ravaged.

Below them, the remnants of noble estates—now reduced to ashes and rubble—served as a testament to their recent destruction. Lucas's eyes were distant, calculating, as he thought about their next move.

"We've wiped out quite a few of the corrupt families," Lucas mused aloud, his voice calm but thoughtful. "By now, the higher-ups must be growing restless."

Roxana, flying beside him, glanced over with a smirk playing at her lips. Her fiery eyes gleamed with excitement at the thought of what was to come. "Restless, you say?" she teased, her tone light but edged with a hint of danger. "More like terrified. I imagine they're scrambling to decide what to do."

Lucas gave a small nod, his expression unbothered. "They'll send someone stronger soon. A real challenge." His voice was even, but there was a flicker of anticipation in his tone. He wasn't worried—he welcomed it.

Roxana let out a soft laugh, the sound filled with amusement. "I hope so." She rolled her shoulders, stretching slightly as if preparing for a fight. "These nobles have been too easy. I'm ready for someone worth my time."

Lucas's eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts racing. "They'll likely send someone from the royal family next. Someone powerful. They won't let us keep tearing through their ranks without retaliation."

Roxana's smirk widened, her tone turning playful but sharp. "Good. Let them come. I've been itching for a real fight." She glanced at Lucas, her eyes glinting. "I wouldn't mind seeing what an eight-star fighter looks like up close."

Lucas gave her a sidelong glance, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just make sure you don't get too carried away."

Roxana chuckled, her tone almost mischievous. "No promises."

The two of them continued to fly through the sky, the anticipation building between them as they both knew that something bigger was coming. But neither of them felt fear—only the thrill of the challenge that awaited.

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