Executioner's League-Chapter 83: The Re-Ignited Flame!

Senjuro steered the jeep

sharply toward Sector D-17, moving with deliberate speed. As they entered the

zone, he quickly activated the formation map of the Vanguard forces. Streams of

data and movement markers flashed across the screen. His sharp eyes immediately

caught sight of a Vanguard vehicle heading toward the entrance of Sector D-5.

Without hesitation,

Senjuro revved the engine, accelerating toward the Vanguard's path. In one

smooth maneuver, he allowed the jeep to slip just into the Vanguard's line of

sight before disappearing into the shadows of Sector D-5.

The Vanguard, spotting

what he thought was an intruder slipping into D-5, immediately relayed the

information to the sector teams. Within seconds, forces swarmed Sector D-5—but

found nothing. Not even tire tracks.

Moments later, another

Vanguard in a distant area reported seeing Senjuro entering Sector D-23.

Conflicting reports flooded the Vanguard network, and confusion began to spread

like wildfire.

Senjuro's method was

working perfectly. The tightly coordinated formation was beginning to unravel.

Panic crept into the comm-chatter; orders overlapped, conflicting sightings

piled up. Within minutes, the organized patrol routes dissolved into chaos. Sirens

blared, units scrambled, but no one could pin him down.

Every soldier saw him—but

none could find him.

Deep in one of the old

maintenance tunnels, Senjuro noticed the comm signal strength spike on his

interface. He turned to Kyrin, his expression sharp.

"Kyrin, hack into their

network. It'll be a huge advantage."

Without a word, Kyrin

pulled out his compact laptop and began working. His fingers flew across the

keyboard, the screen flashing rapid streams of code. Within seconds, the city's

entire local network was under his control. He smirked as icons representing

surveillance drones, communication lines, and Vanguard units lit up on his

screen.

Senjuro caught the glint

in Kyrin's eye and allowed a small smile. "Rin's gonna have some competition."

At the mention of the

name, a sudden thought struck Kyrin. His fingers paused on the keyboard. He

turned toward Senjuro, concern flickering in his voice.

"Speaking of Rin... where

is he?"

Senjuro froze for a split

second, his mind snapping back to the past. Memories rushed in—the Kurogiri

Mansion, the battles, the bloodshed—and then... nothing.

"You're right," Senjuro

muttered grimly. "The last time we saw him was just before the incident at the

mansion. And Blaze too..."

Kyrin's expression

tightened. "We completely forgot about them. It's our negligence. But... right

now, we have to focus on our escape."

Senjuro's hands tightened

around the wheel, but he nodded firmly. "They're strong. I have faith they'll

find a way back."

Under his breath, almost

too quietly for anyone to hear, Senjuro whispered, "Don't fail me, Rin."

Suddenly, a loud,

static-laced message blared over the Vanguards' comms—clearly overheard by

Kyrin's tapped system:

"—All Vanguard forces,

shift to Multi-Split Formation immediately. Repeat, shift to Multi-Split

Formation."

Senjuro's face lit up with

a flash of triumph. He let out a small, victorious shout. "Yes!"

Without wasting another

second, he floored the accelerator. The jeep roared to life again, tires

screeching as he sped toward the nearest exit point from the tunnel network.

Their plan had worked: the forces above were in complete disarray, split into

scattered search parties with no coordination left.

Now, it was time to break

free.

As they emerged from the

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tunnel, Senjuro immediately activated a projection on his watch, displaying a

full map of the Vanguards' positions across the district. His sharp eyes

scanned the formation carefully, piecing together their arrangement like a

puzzle.

A grim realization struck

him.

"It's a trap," Senjuro

said quietly, his voice cutting through the tense air. "They figured out our

plan. Look—perfect formations around every sector. They're boxing us in."

Kyrin and Aureva leaned

in, their faces tense.

"But" Senjuro continued,

his tone shifting slightly, "there are still moles—small, minute gaps between

sectors. They're microscopic, but enough. We have one chance. We cross the

district border during that gap... and we're free. If we miss it, it's over."

Both of them nodded,

instantly understanding the urgency.

As Senjuro folded the map,

he spotted headlights approaching fast. Instinctively, he ducked behind cover.

At that moment, a faint pulse triggered in his visor, and a voice echoed in his

mind—clear and commanding.

"Use the information

displayed on the visor."

Senjuro's eyes widened. He

recognized the voice immediately.

"Valan," Senjuro spoke

silently in his mind, "the last time you spoke to me was... my first day."

Valan's voice replied

calmly. "I wasn't able to synchronize with your Core back then. But

now, I have full access. I'll guide you from here."

A rush of warmth filled

Senjuro's chest. He smiled faintly. "Thanks."

Instantly, updated

tactical data flooded his visor's interface. It highlighted paths, patrol blind

spots, and timing predictions—all in real-time. Trusting Valan's guidance,

Senjuro slipped past the first patrol, timing every movement precisely, his

body flowing like water through the narrow openings between the Vanguards.

It was working. They were

close.

The border lay just

ahead—only one last Vanguard patrol between them and freedom.

Senjuro pushed the jeep

forward with everything he had. They tore through the empty streets, heading

straight for the checkpoint. The escape was within reach.

Then—disaster.

Without warning, an

explosion rocked the jeep. The world became a blur of fire, smoke, and twisting

metal. Senjuro, Kyrin, and Aureva were launched into the air, crashing hard

onto the cracked pavement.

Dazed and barely

conscious, Senjuro forced his heavy eyes open. Through the haze, he saw a

figure—tall, cloaked—dragging Aureva's limp form toward a black car. The

vehicle's engine roared, and in seconds, it vanished into the smoky distance.

Senjuro stumbled to his

feet, rage and fear surging inside him. But it was too late—the car had

disappeared beyond the horizon.

Turning back, he saw Kyrin

lying motionless nearby.

Gritting his teeth,

Senjuro hoisted Kyrin onto his shoulder, his muscles screaming in protest. From

every direction, the sound of Vanguards closing in grew louder.

"Senjuro," Valan's voice came urgently, "give me

your consciousness."

Without hesitation,

Senjuro closed his eyes. He trusted Valan completely.

In an instant, something

shifted inside him. When he opened his eyes again, it was still Senjuro's

body—but Valan was in control.

Moving with fluid

precision, Valan carried Kyrin behind a large fragment of concrete, shielding

them from view. He tapped Senjuro's wrist device and dialed a secure code.

Above them, the sky split

with a thundering sound.

A sleek, high-tech chopper

descended from the clouds, its turbines sending debris swirling across the

ruined streets. As it hovered, a figure dropped from the chopper—landing

heavily, the impact cracking the pavement beneath his boots.

The man was massive,

towering over any ordinary soldier. His flux aura burned brightly, a dazzling

mixture of radiant red, pure gold, and shimmering ocean blue. It wasn't just

power—it was a living storm.

In one hand, he wielded a

thick metal bar, humming with resonating flux energy.

As the Vanguards saw him,

a wave of fear rippled through their ranks. Their earlier discipline crumbled

instantly. Soldiers abandoned their posts, running in terror, sealing off the

border gates behind them.

The man stood there, calm

and unshaken.

His voice, deep and cold,

echoed through the empty streets:

"You don't need my

introduction. Just remember—"

"The flame has been reignited."

Without another word, he

turned and walked into the waiting chopper. Valan, carrying Kyrin, followed him

inside.

As the hatch sealed and

the aircraft ascended, Valan turned toward the towering man.

"You still... love him,

don't you?" Valan asked quietly.

The man's gaze darkened

slightly, but his voice remained steady.

"Yes. I owe him

everything." He looked out at the crumbling cityscape below. "Seraph and Vorenth's

reign end soon. Their time is over."

Above the smoke and ruins

of Lumina Spire, the chopper disappeared into the clouds, carrying the hope of

vengeance—and the first sparks of a rising rebellion.