Evolution of the Ruined Heir

Chapter 208: Sutrex

Whiteshade kept talking. On and on. But Malakai said nothing. Not a word. He just stood there, observing.

He wasn’t shocked by how things had played out. Not one bit.

This… was exactly what he wanted.

Despite already having enough money to repair the base, Malakai had kept pushing. Had bet everything, even his life, for a cane.

But it had never been about the cane. It was never about the money either.

‘It worked well enough.’

He had stepped on Whiteshade’s pride, riled him up just enough to end up here… in the dead of the night. Facing him along with two Synergy-stage evolvers at his side, giving him the illusion of security.

But the truth was simple, Whiteshade’s life had never been secure. Not since the moment he decided to go after Malakai.

Whiteshade’s words eventually slowed, then stopped. He looked at Malakai, still standing there with those cold eyes.

He didn’t like those eyes.

“Bring him to his knees,” he ordered, and at that same moment, Malakai finally spoke.

“Nyx.”

A second passed. Nothing happened.

“Hm?” Whiteshade narrowed his eyes. He had just given a direct command, yet the street rat was still standing. Still looking at him with those annoyingly cold eyes.

“Are you deaf?”

He sent a glance backward, only for his gaze to narrow.

Both guards had taken a step forward, arms stretched toward Malakai as if to grasp him. But they were utterly still, like time had paused for them.

Only one part of their bodies moved, their eyes. And as Whiteshade met the trembling gazes of his guards, he saw it instantly.

Fear.

‘A trap.’

A shiver ran down his spine. He gripped his cane tightly before unsheathing a hidden blade within it.

He lowered into a stance, eyes darting around, trying to pinpoint the threat. But Whiteshade instinctively knew how hopeless the situation was.

Something, or someone, had frozen two Synergy-stage evolvers with ease.

What was a node formation like him supposed to do?

‘How did I fall for this?’

He sent a cold glare toward the one person he suspected, the one who had set it all up. Killing intent bled from his eyes.

“What did you do?” he spat, blade pointed straight at him.

Malakai’s expression didn’t shift. He simply began walking forward, steps steady.

“Who are you?”

Malakai could sense the fear bleeding out of him, the cautious kind, fear of the unknown. He had thought of Malakai as prey seconds ago. But now… the tables had turned.

“W-who sent you?” Whiteshade’s voice cracked as Malakai got closer.

The street rat stood inches from the blade, no guard raised, no weapon in sight. An opportunity Whiteshade didn’t hesitate to take.

He gritted his teeth, lunged forward, and thrust the blade.

But Malakai veered to the right like he’d expected it, closing the distance in a blink.

Whiteshade’s clear blue eyes widened in disbelief, right before Malakai’s palm connected with his mask covered face. The force sent him flying into a wooden wall with a loud impact.

“Make them unconscious.”

The guards’ trembling eyes widened as Malakai passed by, his order ringing out. A wave of disorientation hit them, and their vision flushed black. Their bodies dropped to the floor with solid thuds, unconscious.

Malakai didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes were fixed on the man in white, now struggling to stand.

Whiteshade looked at his fallen guards, then back at Malakai with a trembling glare.

‘He planned for this.’

His mind reeled. He’d been lured. He wasn’t the predator, he was the prey.

Whiteshade forced himself to clear his thoughts. He had to escape, somehow.

He gripped his blade tighter and lunged again, only for Malakai to shift slightly and bury his fist deep into his gut.

The air left Whiteshade’s lungs, pain surging through his entire body.

As Malakai stepped back, he collapsed, hands clutching his midsection, struggling to stay conscious.

“Do you know who you’re dealing with? You’ll never get out of this alive,” Whiteshade hissed, voice low and cold, reeling from the punch.

He looked up to see Malakai was staring down at him silently. That pause was all the confirmation he needed.

Whiteshade began to laugh.

“Oh, you stupid fool. You don’t even know who you’re dealing with, do you?”

His laughter grew louder as he pointed toward the unconscious guards, standing up slightly.

“You can’t kill me. The Blood Knights will surround this location before you can flee. Which means… you’re after something.”

His voice shifted, calmer now, composed in a way that didn’t match his condition.

Unfortunately, the wilderness was different from any stronghold in the west. Every citizen was fitted with lifeguards from birth.

Deaths, or even near deaths, automatically triggered alerts to the Blood Knights, who arrived as fast as possible.

Whiteshade knew this well. It was why murder inside the dome was rare. Something only the upper class would dared to do.

“After all this is over,” he said, gaze burning with rage, “I will make sure you’re hunted to the ends of the dome. You’ll never esc—”

Another palm slammed into Whiteshade’s head, jerking him sideways into the wall.

He hit the ground again. Blood dripped from his head, and his mask finally cracked.

It fell apart, revealing his face.

Malakai’s gaze landed on a youthful figure in his late teens. His bald head was as smooth as his skin. No beard. No mustache. Brown skin. Clear blue eyes staring up at him, amused.

‘A Sudrex.’ Malakai identified immediately.

But not just any Sudrex.

If he had the resources to create a place like the Red Maw at such a young age, Malakai was certain he was someone important.

Whiteshade seemed to notice the pause in Malakai’s eyes and grinned.

“I am Legan Sil Sutrex,” he said, voice hoarse but proud. “The fourth fleshling of the Sutrex clan. There is no escape, whoever the fuck you are. You’re a spy, aren’t you?”

He spat blood, grinning through the pain.

“It doesn’t matter. You might as well take off your disguise now. It’s useless at this point.”

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