Chapter 190: Crossroads (12)
The blade sailed through the air, delivering a chilling stroke. It may have chopped off Aella’s left cheek, exposing her gums and teeth. An inch more, the sword would have passed through her jaw and out the back of her head.
Aella froze the ground beneath her feet and launched herself using a wind wall. Her movements were uncanny, with her torso completely upright as she relocated half a foot to the right. After avoiding the sword stroke, Aella extended both her hands.
Her legs and body remained completely still, allowing her to move her arms freely. She drew her hands together and thrust them out, as if dancing.
“Freeze.”
Despite the fact that she did not utter an incantation or cast a spell, magic responded to her words. These were the words of a dragon.
Aella rubbed her ten spread fingers against the body of the mindless beast that had assumed human shape as the chill between them intensified.
Whaaaah!
A dazzling white light appeared between Aella’s hands and the man. When the numbing cold contacted his skin, the man’s motions froze.
The veins on his ebony skin froze, and his breath came out in a white fog.
Crack!
Just as she had frozen and destroyed the man, a whistling sound emerged from the sky. Her mind acted before her body.
Pow, pow, pow, pow.
Six arrows lodged themselves in the stone floor where Aella was standing, shattering the flagstones. The force behind the arrows was such that the arrowheads had smashed through the stone, leaving just the fletching visible.
Aella dodged the arrows by using the wind to move her body, and then she summoned magic and sent it into the sky. A brief blue flash illuminated the cloudless night sky, followed by lightning striking a building’s top.
Kaboom!
Amidst the dazzling brightness and booming thunder that lit up the surroundings, Aella noticed a small shape leaping towards a nearby building to evade the lightning.
“Sniper in the building at five o’clock! Fourth floor!”
“Finally!”
After confirming the position Aella had indicated, Weizen kicked out at the woman he was battling, knocking her off balance and then crossing the swords in both of his hands like scissors.
With one single action, the woman’s severed neck flailed her limbs before collapsing heavily to the ground. Weizen left the body where it lay and flew in the direction Aella had specified.
The number of enemies they were fighting had increased by three or four since the outset. And among the arrivals was an archer who could not be overlooked.
The presence of a sniper inevitably limited their mobility. Having to keep an eye out for arrows that could fly at any time while also blocking swords and axes swung right in front of them was not only physically exhausting but also mentally difficult.
The battle had only lasted around ten minutes, but for warriors and wizards who lived in a different time zone, it felt like an hour.
And for the entire 10 minutes, the archer was firing arrows and interfering with the conflict without being noticed by Calia, Aella, or the Scilio-Weizen siblings.
“That son of a b*tch, just wait right there!”
Weizen roared as he kicked off the ground and went straight up the building’s side. Ignoring gravity, he sprinted up the wall, demonstrating his incredible power over magic and his body.
Weizen rushed onto the roof of the four-story structure but was taken aback by the emptiness. However, he quickly noticed a faint distortion in the corner of his vision, like a shifting mirage, and a ferocious smile spread across his face.
“An invisibility cloak!”
After identifying the magical item that impaired his eyesight by dispersing light, Weizen infused the two swords he was holding with magic and swung them.
The blue sword energy that launched out in an X-shape exploded when it struck the ceiling, right before it hit the ground.
Kaboom!
Weizen inspected the broken stone fragments with keen eyes and noticed a shadow moving between them. The explosion from the sword energy must have torn the invisibility cloak, since he could only see the person’s legs moving.
“Die, you bastard!”
After a brief pause, Weizen dove into the ruins, swinging his swords. The archer’s torso contorted as he nocked three arrows on his bow and fired them all at once.
The three arrows went straight towards Weizen, piercing the stones and gravel that lay in their path. The arrows were visibly laced with greenish-blue magical energy, which increased their potency.
Kaboom!
Weizen’s twin swords and arrows collided, resulting in a spherical shockwave in mid-air. Weizen flipped his madly flying hair away from his eyes, exposing his pale scalp.
As he flipped his hair, he noticed a swirling cloud of dust in the distance. His eyes widened as he noticed the cloud of dust resting horizontally, because he was well aware of the firing posture, even if he didn’t know who owned it.
WHIZ, WHIZ, WHIZ!
Before he could finish his idea, arrows started falling down. Weizen repelled the ones intended for his chest while quickly avoiding those directed at his legs, reducing the gap between them.
A ranged weapon requires a certain amount of distance to be effective. Knowing this, Weizen dashed to close the gap, while the archer moved back to provide space. However, the archer was slow, maybe because of the leg injury caused by the sword energy explosion earlier.
Weizen seizes the chance and throws one of the swords he is holding.
“Hyaa!”
The thrown sword went astonishingly fast, reaching the archer despite Weizen’s weird screech. The archer’s invisibility cloak ripped, and a hole developed in his side, revealing his ribs, indicating that he did not respond quickly enough.
And with that, the invisibility cloak’s influence ended. The enchantment, which had been tenuously maintained, failed, and the archer’s identity was exposed to the world.
“Stay right there, you rat!”
The other members of the group, who had been crouching in fear as the archer throwing arrows from afar postponed the terrorists’ executions, straightened up and stretched when they saw Weizen confront the archer.
“You goddamn son of a b*tch! You monster! You bastard!”
Scilio stretched her fist and kicked her leg high, emitting a yell reminiscent of her younger brother’s. Her kick sent an axe flying, and she braced herself. Her opponent was a huge man with a double-bladed axe.
The man’s skin was covered in black veins, and he bared his yellow fangs as he roared.
“Uwaaaaah!”
The man had already lost his capacity to communicate correctly, and his mind had succumbed to the urge to kill. He could only see hazy objects and smudges in front of him—no individuals.
The man swung his double-bladed axe with all of his strength. The double-bladed axe, with its two blades spread out symmetrically like wings, was a tough weapon to control, but the man swung it like a toy, sending shockwaves through the air.
Every time the double-bladed axe swung, the tents and stalls that had been put up were ripped to bits, as if they had been caught in a small storm and thrown into the air, while strong stone walls disintegrated, sending sparks and dust flying.
When physical power and speed are combined with a simple and uncomplicated approach, technique becomes irrelevant. Scilio avoided the direction of the double-bladed axe, but a follow-up blow caught her in the face and sent her flying, slamming through the front of a shop.
“Dammit. . . That hurt, you bastard!”
Scilio, who had sworn, rolled across the ground. An axe dropped where she was standing, shattering the flagstones and destroying the business.
“Sorry!”
She kicked off the ground, aiming not for the massive man but for the shop owner, who was out of reach. Her aim was the brief moment when the massive man grasped the axe handle and pulled.
A whip-like kick came flying in.
“Graaaaah!”
Pow!
Her physical powers may have been inferior to the massive man’s, but her magical control was far greater. The massive man vomited blood as a result of the kick, which caused concentrated blue flames on her foot.
Before he could restore his footing, he was hit with a punch.
The massive man staggered after three punches to his gut, chest, and jaw. Scilio, who had closed the gap by charging at the staggeringly tall man, kicked off the ground and leaped up.
She raised her right leg high, straightened her left knee, and slammed it into the massive man’s abdomen, eliciting a stifled cry and bending his back fully.
“Hwaap!”
Scilio turned around, using her left leg as a pivot, and placed her right leg high on the massive man’s right side before lowering it with full force.
Kaboom!
The massive man slumped and twitched after dropping his double-bladed axe with a shout. He attempted to move his fingers, but the strength that could convert rocks into pebbles was no longer present. His spine was shattered.
Thud!
Scilio, who had killed him by bashing his head in, wiped the blood from under her nose.
“Damn bastard, hitting a lady in the face.”
At the same moment, Calia was fighting three people simultaneously.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The spinning blood lance repelled two small swords, one long sword, and a big mace. The woman wielding the blood lance was small. She stood a head or two shorter than the tall men who were attacking her.
However, her strength goes considerably beyond that. The three terrorists exchanged stunned looks at the amazing strength that emanated from such a little frame. The sole rational concept that remained in their heads did not allow for surprise or shock. All that remained was the constant restatement of their goal.
Calia was also experiencing the effects of the magic right in front of her. Calia felt pity. It was quite distressing to hear the comments of someone who had lost their free will.
That’s why she felt a tinge of rage and called her magic.
Whoosh!
A red whirlwind surged from the pool of blood that had formed on the ground where they stood.
The stage was already set. Calia and the three men had shed a lot of blood while fighting. Like Calia, who could heal any wounds she sustained with her blood, the three terrorists had been boosted by spells and potions, giving them significantly inferior regenerative abilities to trolls.
However, even this had reached its limit. There are no unlimited resources. To gain control of their bodies, which were losing magic and slowing down, the spell that controlled them commanded them to drink human flesh and blood.
However, all of the other humans in this location had already departed. They walked a precarious balance between their growing violent instincts and their reason, which was being perverted by the drugs.
During the tumult, Calia kicked aside two short swords stabbing at her chest, deflected a mace attempting to crush her head, and sidestepped a long blade stabbing at her from behind without looking.
It was such a graceful attack and defense that it appeared as if the four of them had practiced it, although they were not members of a theater troupe. The swirl of blood, which rose up again and then poured down like rain, proved this.
Streams of blood spilled down from nearby. And from within that blood, its owner opened his eyes.
Kaaaaaaah!
An untimely wave smashed down. It was not a wave made of salty, fresh water. The wave was made of blood. A surge of red foam, not white foam, slammed down on the three terrorists.
Even if you looked closely, it was evident that it was not a wave formed by the blood that had pooled on the ground but rather magic, a method that had tricked the world in the first place.
Dozens of hands rose from the torrent of blood left behind after the wave had passed. They grabbed, tugged, and pushed the three men away. It was a frightening sight, as if the dead from hell were attempting to take the living away.
“Aaaaah!”
“Aaaaah!”
Screams turned into strangled cries and roars. However, the spell dutifully executed its master’s desire. They attempted to resist the hands formed of red blood by casting spells and swinging their swords at Calia, but they were sucked down quicker than they could.
Like a fish attempting to swim upstream or a rowboat caught in a whirlpool and plunging into the tumultuous waters. They flailed their arms and legs, attempting to flee, but the torrent of blood and whirlpool would not let them.
Whoosh. . .Plop.
The river and pool of magical blood vanished, leaving only the sound of pure, running water. There were no bodies remaining.
At the same moment, Weizen was nearing the end of a breathless chase that had carried him through streets, lanes, and barriers.
“Huff, huff. Damn, you’re annoying.”
The arrows stuck in various places of his body demonstrated the intensity of the combat. They were areas of his body that he had been compelled to reveal in order to escape being struck in a critical place. Weizen pulled the blade from the corpse, trying to ignore the burning pain.
Black blood gushed forth, and the prone corpse jerked. Weizen, who had flinched without realizing it, checked to ensure that it was truly dead before flicking the blade. He then removed the fully torn invisibility cloak and glanced at the guy who was wearing it.
His face stiffened as he stood up. Weizen vaguely recognized the owner of this coat.
“What? You know him?”
“Yeah. Cohim, remember?”
“The guy who hangs out in the general goods area? Who hangs out with those thugs. . .? Wait. That guy?”
“That’s right. It seems like a lot of the back alley guys have been taken over by some weirdos.”
Scilio, like Weizen, had a grim expression for the enormous guy she had slain. Now that she saw him, she remembered that he used to hang out with Cohim and do his dirty work.
His face had become so dark from the blackened veins that she had not recognized him right away. But she never anticipated that the thugs and mercenaries from the back alleyways would attack their own city.
“Why are they turning Brasilt upside down?”
“I don’t know. It’s suspicious that they chose today, of all days. I guess we’ll have to go to the auction house.”
🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷
In the gloom, two pairs of eyes moved softly. The eyes had a purple tone. Russell went quickly into the darkness, dealing with attackers who appeared out of various passages and chambers.
No, it was an exaggeration. Russell did not swing the axe twice. Once was enough. And a single strike was enough to cut his opponent’s neck or waist in half.
The folks following Russell couldn’t see him swinging his axe. All they saw was the corpse he had left behind. Pitchellon’s knight, Derban, observed something unusual about the dead.
No, he’d spotted it from the start. It was difficult to distinguish in the current circumstances, where there was no bright light and only light from lanterns or spell orbs, but it was evident that these attackers were not humans, despite their human appearance.
The attackers had a clear target. To eliminate the nobility who had congregated at the auction house. And the majority of the nobles were vassals of nobles who supported the princess or lords who professed neutrality.
“Brasilt is Count Jayvir’s land, and Count Jayvir is a noble who claims to support the prince, but this is an outrageous attack. Even if the prince ascends to the throne, he won’t be able to avoid the controversy.”
“De, Derban. Why don’t we go outside? Shouldn’t we get out of this horrible place? Huh?”
“We cannot, my lord. We cannot go outside without knowing what is happening outside. It may actually be safer to stay here.”
“R, Really? I understand. I will do as you say.”
Pitchellon had become incredibly frightened, possibly due to the number of life-threatening scenarios he had encountered in the last few dozen minutes. He never expected to be attacked like this at the slave auction place, where he had merely stopped to pick up some staff for his mansion.
Derban left his master behind and looked ahead again. In addition to them, another group followed Russell. They were all aristocrats who had been rescued by Russell. There were few knights who had survived, but Derban seemed unconcerned.
The reason for this was obvious. It was thanks to the man who was leading the route ahead of him. Russell abruptly came to a halt. He stood still, glanced around, and then pointed to a location.
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