Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

The group of Malachor Clan and Necrovauld Academy disciples slowly approached, they exchanged uneasy glances, their murmurs growing louder. Their eyes flickered suspiciously between Lucy and Lucas, sensing something off.

"Why are they here?" one disciple whispered, his voice low and filled with unease. His brow furrowed in confusion as he scanned the pair, clearly trying to make sense of the situation. "They shouldn't be this close to the Death Volcano unless..."

"Unless they're up to something," another disciple chimed in, his voice tinged with suspicion. His hand drifted toward his sword, fingers twitching as if ready to draw at the slightest provocation.

"If we let them go," the first disciple continued, his voice growing more urgent, "it could become a serious problem for us. They might already know too much."

As the disciples exchanged nervous looks, one of them—a tall figure with sharp, calculating eyes—narrowed his gaze, something catching his attention.

His eyes darted toward Lucas's waist, where a small, gleaming emblem hung from his belt. He frowned deeply, his heart skipping a beat as realization hit him.

"Wait a minute..." the sharp-eyed disciple muttered under his breath, pointing toward Lucas with a trembling finger. His voice carried a mixture of disbelief and concern. "That emblem on the child's waist... isn't that the Celestial Academy insignia?"

A ripple of shock spread through the group, their expressions shifting from confusion to alarm. Their bodies tensed, and some of them even took a step back, clearly unsettled by the unexpected discovery.

One disciple, his voice barely concealing his rising panic, spoke up in a shaky tone. "Celestial Academy disciples? Here? Of all places?"

The tension in the air thickened as the implications sank in. The leader of the group—a grim-faced man with an aura of authority—narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly. He exhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto Lucy and Lucas as if weighing their threat.

"We can't let them leave," he said in a cold, authoritative voice. "If they're from the Celestial Academy, they've likely come for the same reason we have. If we allow them to continue, it could jeopardize everything."

The rest of the disciples nodded in grim agreement. Their faces were set in determination as they quickly shifted into a defensive stance, their hands moving toward their weapons in unison.

Swords were drawn, and the air buzzed with the rising tension. They positioned themselves strategically, blocking the path ahead, their intent unmistakable—they weren't about to let Lucy and Lucas pass without a fight.

One disciple, his voice thick with anticipation, muttered to his comrade, "We have to stop them here. If they escape and report back, it could mean war between the factions."

The leader sneered, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "Then let's make sure they never make it back."

Meanwhile, Lucas stood calmly beside his sister, his eyes flicking over the group of disciples with mild amusement. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he watched the enemies prepare themselves, unaware of the overwhelming power they were about to face. He leaned closer to Lucy, his voice dropping to a low, confident whisper.

"Big sister," he murmured, his tone light but laced with mischief. "Just tear them apart. We don't have time for this nonsense—let's get straight to the Death Volcano."

His words were delivered with such casual ease, as if the group standing in their way posed no real threat. It was as though this was nothing more than an inconvenience, a minor delay in their journey.

Lucy didn't even blink. Her gaze remained fixed on the enemies ahead, her expression cold, eyes blazing with focused determination. Without hesitation, she gave a curt nod, her voice sharp but calm, exuding an unwavering sense of control.

"Hold onto me," she instructed, her tone firm yet gentle, a quiet authority in her voice.

Lucas grinned at her words, already knowing what was coming. He wrapped his arms around his sister's waist, holding tightly, trusting her completely. His heart raced, not with fear, but with excitement—he knew his sister's power was about to be unleashed.

Lucy's eyes narrowed, her body shifting into an offensive stance as she prepared for the inevitable charge. With a swift motion, her hands began to glow with an intense, fiery light.

In an instant, her fingers transformed into deadly, molten claws, crackling with energy—the Volcanic Dragon Claws. The air around them shimmered from the heat radiating off her, and the temperature spiked dangerously.

The disciples watching from the distance could feel the suffocating wave of heat as Lucy's volcanic aura surged, blanketing the area with oppressive warmth.

The ground beneath her feet cracked and splintered under the sheer pressure of her power, thin wisps of steam rising from the earth. Each movement she made sent shockwaves through the ground, her strength undeniable.

Lucas, clinging to her, could feel the vibrations of the molten energy coursing through her body. He looked up at her, his admiration evident in his wide smile, but his gaze also sharp with readiness.

"Make it quick," he whispered, a hint of laughter in his voice, clearly relishing what was about to unfold.

Lucy didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her focus was absolute, her cold eyes locked on the path ahead as the enemies braced themselves. With a deep breath, she lunged forward, her body moving with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey.

Lucy's Volcanic Dragon Claws blazed even brighter, the heat around them distorting the air as she prepared to tear through the ranks of the Malachor Clan and Necrovauld Academy disciples.

Her resolve was unshakable, her eyes locked on the enemies before her. With a fierce burst of energy, she surged forward, ready to strike them down like a storm of fire.

But just as her claws were about to make contact, one of the disciples reacted with surprising speed. He swiftly drew his sword, the blade gleaming as he raised it to block her attack. Hosted by m_vl_em_p_yr

With a sharp clash, his sword met Lucy's fiery claws, and to her surprise, he successfully deflected the strike.

Lucy's eyes widened slightly. She hadn't expected any of them to withstand her initial assault.

The disciple, seeing the shock on Lucy's face, smirked confidently. "Don't think we're weak warriors," he taunted, his voice filled with pride. "You'll find we're not so easily defeated."

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