Read Novel Full Chapter 724: Father
Chapter 724: Father
Everything was progressing as it did in the vision, but thanks to the changes he made, Nikolai could finally fight back.
That should have been enough.
The eastern wall had not collapsed into a graveyard. Selene and Nikita were alive at his sides, and the soldiers had not scattered like frightened animals. Every preparation, every order, every second he remembered from that nightmare had given them a chance.
Yet the moment the fake Ivan stepped toward him, Nikolai’s confidence shook violently.
I haven’t beaten my father once… even after surpassing his power.
The thought left him frozen.
Nikolai clenched his teeth and raised the Desert Eagle.
But the clone moved before his finger could tighten.
His silver hair flashed through the smoke with claws raking the air from above, forcing Nikolai to cross his arm against them, catching the blow with his own transformed hand.
The impact drove him back through the flooded lane.
His boots carved two lines through blood, resin, and broken concrete before he stopped himself. A hot pain shot up his forearm, enough to numb his fingers, and for the first time since the attack began, he felt the difference clearly.
This was not merely Ivan’s copied body.
This clone is stronger than my father!?
Something far stronger had been forced into it.
The clone’s muscles carried too much pressure. Its attacks moved with a savage rhythm that pushed Nikolai’s instincts to the limit. This thing had reached the level of Ancestry, a height even the current Ivan had not yet climbed.
Franz had not copied his father.
He had made a version of Ivan that surpassed him.
Nikolai laughed at the sudden realisation.
“You’re truly one twisted piece of shit, Franz!”
The fake Ivan gave no answer and seemed ignorant of insults about his creator, as the other clones did.
It struck again.
Nikolai slipped to the side, raised his gun, and fired point-blank into the clone’s ribs. The Desert Eagle roared, and the silver round tore through the black tactical coat, but the clone’s body twisted with the shot instead of resisting it. The movement robbed the bullet of its full force, and Ivan’s claws came back around, carving across Nikolai’s cheek.
A spurt of blood filled his left eye.
“Dirty fucker!”
“….”
Nikolai snarled and drove his knee into the clone’s stomach. The blow landed clean enough to crack the armour beneath the coat, but the fake Ivan caught him by the shoulder and elbow, flipping him over and then hurling him across the lane.
Wooosh!
The world spun.
His gut churned as he almost vomited.
He hit the side of a barricade and broke through it.
“Nikolai!” Selene shouted.
Purple flame cut between them before she could move.
The fake Vladimir stood in her path, rain hissing around the fire, coiling across his fingers. Selene’s eyes sharpened, and blood-red ice rose from the ground to meet the flame, stopping it before it reached Nikolai.
Nikita tried to force her way toward him next, but the golden werewolf clone slammed into the lane between them. Its claws tore through a Fenrir shield and sent the warrior behind it skidding into the wall.
“Move!” Nikita barked.
The fake Dimitri lowered its head.
Nikita’s rifle cracked again and again, silver rounds punching into its chest, shoulder, and throat. The clone advanced through them, slower but unbroken, its golden fur soaked dark beneath the rain.
Nikolai pushed himself up from the broken barricade.
Blood covered the left side of his face, blurring his sight. His left eye throbbed with a wet squelch, and each blink only smeared more red across his vision. The irritation under his skin had become a crawling heat, urging him to abandon shape, abandon reason, abandon everything except slaughter.
He forced it down.
‘I want to win… to beat my dad without help!’
The fake Ivan stepped through the falling rain, calm and silent.
Nikolai spat blood onto the concrete.
“You’re not allowed to look at me like that.”
He rushed first this time.
His claws met Ivan’s with a screech of bone and metal-hard nails. Nikolai pushed forward, shoulders burning, and fired twice into the clone’s thigh. The leg finally dipped, but the fake Ivan shifted its weight and slammed its forehead into Nikolai’s face.
The blow burst stars through his skull.
Nikolai staggered.
The clone’s hand closed around his throat.
For a heartbeat, the battlefield became a blur of rain, smoke, muzzle flashes, and red moonlight. Nikolai grabbed the clone’s wrist with both hands, teeth grinding as his air narrowed. His three hearts hammered in uneven rhythm, each beat feeding the blood inside him with something vile and ancient.
“….”
There was a strange smile on Ivan’s lips.
Then the fake Ivan squeezed harder.
A crack ran through the stone beneath Nikolai’s feet.
“Lord Volkov!” one of the soldiers shouted.
Nikolai’s lips pulled back.
He brought the Desert Eagle up beneath the clone’s jaw and fired.
The shot blew through the lower half of the fake Ivan’s face, spraying black blood into the rain. Its grip loosened just enough. Nikolai twisted free, buried his claws into the clone’s side, and dragged downward with everything he had.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
He tore his father’s clone apart with a valiant roar.
The clone kicked him in the chest.
Nikolai flew backwards again, hit the ground, and rolled through a pool of blood and resin before forcing himself onto one knee.
The fake Ivan’s jaw was already knitting itself back together.
Nikolai breathed heavily, left eye sealed with blood, right eye fixed on the monster wearing.
This clone was nothing like the others; it didn’t strike him when he was down, didn’t push him after a heavy blow, though the blows did devastate Nikolai. Yet he smiled more with each blow Nikolai landed…
However, that’s when two other clones appeared…
“Shit…”
…
Far beyond the eastern approach, three figures tore across the rain-soaked ground toward the outpost.
Ivan reached the outer ridge first, landing on the broken remains of a watch post with enough force to crack the concrete beneath his boots.
Dimitri landed beside him a breath later, golden energy flickering beneath his skin as his eyes locked onto the battle below. Vladimir arrived last, coat flapping in the storm, his gaze cutting through smoke and floodlight until he found Selene near the breach.
None of them spoke at first.
Below them, Nikolai fought three monsters at once.
The clone wearing Ivan’s face pressed him hardest, driving him across the lane with brutal, efficient strikes. The fake Dimitri forced Nikita away whenever she tried to support him, while the fake Vladimir kept Selene pinned beneath flame and pressure.
Nikolai’s coat was torn, blood ran down one side of his face, and his left eye looked useless beneath the red streaks covering it.
Still, he kept moving.
Even wounded, even surrounded, he refused to let the three clones pass deeper into the outpost.
Dimitri’s expression twisted.
“What are you waiting for, Ivan?!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned beneath the gunfire. “That bastard wearing my face is almost on Nikita!”
Ivan did not move.
His eyes remained fixed on Nikolai.
There was something different… his chest pounded as he watched the scene below.
The boy he had once carried, the boy he’d changed diapers for… trained, scolded, failed, protected, and nearly lost more times than he could count was down there fighting a stronger version of him.
‘Don’t Lose!’
His heart screamed, blood pumping to his muscles, locking him in place. #
Half of Ivan wanted to jump down and slaughter all of the filthy clones, and wipe out the enemy forces and yet… half of him felt something new, a strange emotion he didn’t quite understand.
Nikolai took a claw across the shoulder and answered by driving his gun into the clone’s ribs, firing until the slide locked back. He discarded the empty magazine with one hand, reloaded through bloody fingers, and stepped back into range before the fake Ivan could reach the soldiers behind him.
‘He cannot win with just close combat, huh?’
Ivan’s throat tightened.
“Go to Nikita,” he said.
Dimitri stared at him. “What?”
“Go to Nikita. Let me watch.”
“You old bastard, this is not the time!”
Ivan’s hands curled tightly into fists at his sides with a low, crack.
“I feel that I must watch this moment,” he said quietly. “It feels as though my son is shouting for me to watch him right now.”
Dimitri looked ready to hit him.
Then Nagisa’s clone appeared near Nikita.
The fake kitsune stepped from the smoke with black foxfire curling around her tails, her face wearing Nagisa’s smile without any of its warmth. Illusions scattered from her like broken reflections, turning the lane around Nikita into a maze.
Dimitri’s blood surged as his entire figure turned golden.
“Y-You damn battle junkies!” he snapped. “Come on, Vlad, little Selene isn’t looking too hot either!”
Vladimir’s gaze had already moved.
Selina’s clone stood before Selene.
The fake wore his wife’s face, her blonde hair soaked by rain, her red eyes soft and cruel. She lifted one hand, and the space around Selene shuddered. A delayed impact struck a heartbeat later, cracking the ground at Selene’s feet and forcing her to twist aside before the second invisible blow could crush her ribs.
Vladimir’s expression turned murderous.
“I see her.”
Dimitri launched himself toward the breach first, his body tearing through the rain like a golden shell. Vladimir followed, purple flame crawling over both hands as his eyes remained locked on the imitation of his wife.
The battle would soon become tied.