Chapter 915: Act 90 – Shadow of Death IV
In the midst of a grand battle high above, victory and defeat were being determined in this moment. The silver dragon Mistral, already at a disadvantage due to her size, was further hindered by the injuries she had sustained earlier. After enduring consecutive heavy blows, she finally could not hold on any longer; her movements slowed noticeably for a moment. The massive black dragon seized the opportunity, raising its tail high and delivering a heavy blow to Mistral’s waist. She let out a wail of anguish, her battered body plummeting from the sky.
She crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact, her immense form sweeping away several streets as Gravel Town seemed to emit a pained groan. The ground beneath her sank, spreading outward in layers, and buildings toppled one after another.
Mistral’s fall propelled her forward upon hitting the ground; her momentum was unceasing, and the smaller buildings were crushed beneath her like a bulldozer, carving away a substantial part of Gravel Town as she approached the neighborhood where Rowse’s compass was located.
The Eynid Embassy, preparing to relocate, was abruptly thrown into chaos, with everyone losing their footing and tumbling to the ground. Amid the panicked screams, those near the windows helplessly watched a shadow descending upon them, resembling a tsunami, but instead of water, it was the silver expanse of Mistral’s broad back. Row upon row of houses collapsed beneath her, and as the last line of buildings fell apart, the shadow of death was almost upon them.
The nobles scattered like ants from their buildings, desperately fleeing in a state of panic, but their speed was nothing compared to the falling dragon; fleeing was merely a way to delay the moment of death.
The houses screeched in horror as one wall finally gave way under the pressure. Eynid, standing beneath it, was paralyzed with fear, the Countess dazedly staring at the scene, forgetting to dodge.
“Eynid, get away!” Oni shouted.
Eynid remained unmoved.
In a moment of desperation, Medisa charged forward—
“Spirit Wings!” she cried out, and a gray-white web unfurled from her sides, shimmering hexagonal patterns forming a wing-like shape. The Silver Elf Princess gritted her teeth and swung her arms; the tips of the wings bent inward to protect Eynid, intercepting the collapsing wall. The wall crashed against them, shattering into pieces as the ground trembled, and at that moment, Mistral’s back burst through the wall, colliding with Medisa’s spirit wings.
Medisa let out a whimper as she indirectly withstood the force of the black dragon Marlaxias, a blow that resonated with the full power of the Sage. Although it had diminished significantly, it was still too much for her to bear. In the instant the spirit wings held Mistral back, the solid hexagonal structure began to warp and deform, revealing white cracks like broken glass, with the sound of shattering crystal audible to those nearby.
The Silver Elf Princess’s arms, hands, and the armor on her back began to shatter, fissures appearing on her skin, and soul flames erupted forth, blazing like fire engulfing her.
“Ah—”
Eynid seemed to awaken at this moment. “Medisa!” the Countess shouted in panic.
Finally, a second person rushed in: Aike. “Miss Medisa, I’ll help you!” Following him came the White Lion Guard officers, Marjory, Bulfield, and the Summer Solstice Knights, all pouring in with all their might to block Mistral’s back. However, save for Bulfield, the humanity’s strength appeared utterly feeble against such titanic conflict, and they were all sent flying upon impact.
“Nia!” Dierphir, drenched in cold sweat, loudly warned, “Hold me up!”
“Miss, you can’t—”
Dierphir had already placed her hand to her chest, dark spells flashing upon her white arms, as she pointed towards the broad back of the silver dragon. Black flames seemed to ignite from her chest, blazing and forming the upper half of a massive demon. This demon howled, swinging its arms forcefully against Mistral’s back. The force of this attack was so powerful that it even caused the silver wall to momentarily halt. The spell, the Claw of Banuk, could summon the seventh lord from the sulfur river, the Abyssal King Banuk, in an instant. Yet like all other demonic spells, its backlash was equally tremendous; Dierphir, already weak, coughed up blood and fainted.
Her spell had ultimately taken effect, easing Medisa’s burden enough to finally buy her time to cast her own spell.
“Inspire!”
The Traveler’s Mage rule activated, radiant white light emanating from everyone nearby. The fragmented spirit wings of Medisa began to solidify again amid this white light, and Mistral’s advance finally slowed.
“Just a little more!” Aike shouted.
The Silver Elf Princess, however, felt only tremors, as the dragon’s power seemed boundless, inducing a near despair.
At that moment, a hand appeared out of thin air beside her. The hand gently pressed against the back of the silver dragon, causing the entire space to tremble slightly. Countless silver lines emanated from the point of contact between the hand and the silver dragon’s back, intertwining and shimmering together, forming an enormous net. Mistral crashed against this net with a heavy thud, producing a shrill scream from the sharp currents of air. The silver net glimmered with dazzling light, and yet, that was all; all present were astounded to see that Mistral was slowly coming to a halt.
Seeing that hand, Medisa completely relaxed, as if all the strength had been drained from her body, and she nearly collapsed, before a hand steadied her. Then, Brendel’s face appeared in her line of sight.
“Lord…” the Silver Elf Princess could barely muster the strength to speak.
“Haven’t I told you to leave already?” Brendel looked at the injuries on Medisa with pained eyes, though more anger surged within him.
“But Miss Romaine, she—”
“She’s fine,” Brendel interrupted. “Now, let’s get everyone away from here first.”
Medisa was momentarily taken aback, then caught sight of a hamster perched on Brendel’s shoulder. The animal appeared completely ordinary, but the aura of its soul was strikingly familiar. Her eyes widened, “White Mist! What happened to you?”
White Mist let out a soft snort, clearly uninterested in answering that question.
Seeing White Mist, Medisa understood that Romaine had likely escaped danger, with White Mist possibly sent to deliver the message. She sighed in relief and weakly nodded to Brendel. Observing Medisa’s state, Brendel frowned and gently asked, “Are you able to stand?”
Medisa’s face turned slightly red. The soul flames within her had drained significantly, akin to a living being exhausting their physical strength, but she still nodded gently.
Brendel sighed. “Don’t push it.”
With that, he directly bent down, his arms slipping under the little princess’s knees, effortlessly lifting her up. Medisa then lifted her head, smiling at her lord. “Thank you, Lord.”
“You’re much more gracious than Antinna,” Brendel remarked in surprise.
“After all, I’m the commander of the Silver Elves,” Medisa thought to herself, beginning to feel extremely weary, gently resting her head against Brendel’s chest, closing her eyes and slipping into a deep sleep.
Brendel gazed at the Silver Elf girl in his arms, letting out a sigh. His claim of taking the others away had merely been a comforting statement; the battle between the two dragons had completely destroyed Gravel Town, and now they had no place to hide, only hoping that the silver dragon could continue to divert Marlaxias’s attention.
However, Mistral, lying among the ruins, tried several times to rise but fell heavily back to the ground. The black dragon Marlaxias coldly looked down at the entirety of Gravel Town from above, clearly taking note of the tiny humans below. It preferred not to act itself, merely indicating for the swarming wyverns to circle down and surround the pitiful creatures in its gaze.
Brendel cursed his luck upon witnessing this scene. He contemplated an escape strategy as he instructed Cooper to gather the Cruz nobles and for Aike to lead the injured away. He then turned around, drawing his sword alongside Nemeses, preparing to face the deluge of dragon beasts advancing from the sky.
These dragon beasts posed little threat to him, but he understood just how proud the dragons were; although Marlaxias looked down on the idea of personally intervening, it would never allow them to escape. It was clear to him that escaping under the watchful gaze of a mature dragon was a daunting task.
There was only one way forward; instinctively, his gaze fell upon the battered silver dragon Mistral.
“Huma, we need to cooperate,” at that moment, a voice resonated in their minds.
Brendel was slightly surprised, not expecting the silver dragon to share his thoughts. In his memory, dragons were far too prideful to lower themselves in such a manner. With this in mind, he looked up, finding Mistral’s gaze locked onto his, the soft glow in her mercury-like eyes shimmering.
Mistral was covered in blood, the scales on her back and wings a gruesome mess. Breathing heavily, she whispered, “Marlaxias will not let you go, human. Buy me a little time, and if I can take to the skies, I can find a way to divert it—”
Buy time? Brendel felt lost. He glanced at Marlaxias high above; after all, it was a dragon. Perhaps his teacher Mephistopheles could manage it, but he… was far from being sufficient to fill that role.
“I don’t believe I can manage that, esteemed lady,” Brendel replied honestly.
Mistral shook her head, suddenly saying, “No, I believe you can— I once saw a power within someone akin to your own, about a thousand years ago I encountered that individual in the Silver Sea; he was but a young wizard among the Buja back then. Do you know who he is now?”
Brendel indeed knew who it was. That name was likely known to all on the Vaunte continent, and he never anticipated that the majestic dragon lady would equate him with that person; he wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or not.
In the sky, the overwhelming horde of dragon beasts was approaching.
“I truly cannot buy you time, esteemed lady. This is beyond my reach,” Brendel shook his head while pulling out a peculiar dial from his robe, “However, I believe we do have room for collaboration.”
“The Time Dial!” Mistral exclaimed in astonishment. “You indeed did not mislead me—”
Brendel glanced up at the invading dragon beasts. “Now there’s one problem: the Time Dial can only accelerate the flow of time around me or creatures and objects I come into contact with. How can I reach your side without drawing that fellow’s attention? Preferably quickly; I can’t hold off those dragon beasts.”
“That’s simple,” Mistral replied. She shifted slightly amidst the ruins, her massive wings drooping down to shield Brendel.
“I can only accelerate the flow of time for about five minutes for you, is that enough, esteemed lady?” Brendel calculated. Accelerating time with a being of Mistral’s caliber would cost him at least two levels, yet he had no choice at this moment.
The silver dragon lady deliberated for a moment, then nodded. “It’s slightly short, but I believe it will be sufficient for my recovery.”
Brendel nodded, aware that time was limited, and he ceased the small talk, placing his hand on Mistral’s wing and activating the Time Dial.
……
The dragon beasts were already howling closer, met by a swarm of gargoyles that screeched as they launched a near-suicidal assault against these apex entities from below. The disparity in power was vast; upon initial contact, the latter’s dismembered corpses rained down like a torrent. Marlaxias watched this scene with interest, not anticipating that these humans still had means of resistance, but that was all; it never feared that these pitiful creatures could change any outcome.
On the battlefield, the Summer Solstice Knights and the White Lion Guard quickly joined the fray, while others faced their own threats from the dragon beasts at the opposite corner.
Xainne and the sprite’s evasive maneuvers completely enraged a wyvern, which released a deafening roar, stirring its wings and stirring up a gale directly towards the two. No longer using small embers like a cat playing with a mouse, it opened its massive maw filled with a chaotic swarm of fireflies, lunging at the sprite. The sprite and Xainne both screamed, scrambling to get up and escape, but they could not outrun the massive wyvern. The creature let out an angry growl, the foul breath it exhaled sending them toppling in disarray. The sprite cried out as she stumbled and fell to the ground, looking back to see a row of white teeth in the dragon beast’s mouth. She screamed, tightly closing her eyes and raising her small hands defensively.
“Mommy! There’s a monster that wants to eat the sprite!” the sprite shrieked, suddenly feeling a warmth in her palms, as if a powerful force emanated from the front. The recoil sent her soaring off the ground, flipping through the air for several meters until she landed face down with a thud.
Stunned, the sprite raised her head, her face covered in dirt and mud, resembling a painted clown. Her forehead was bright red, and blood trickled from her nose, but she stared wide-eyed ahead—there, a headless wyvern teetered on the brink of collapse, the upper part of its neck seeming to have been carved away, leaving only a charred cavity. Within that cavity, rotten flesh, bones, and shattered entrails were exposed. The foul blood sprayed out like lava, drenching the entire street, and the headless creature staggered forward a few steps before crashing heavily to the ground.
The sound of the dragon beast toppling was immense, sending tremors through the sprite even as she stood on the ground.
The sprite helplessly looked at the beast’s corpse, then at her own hands, and finally her gaze landed on the long spear she clutched tightly, her mouth agape.
At that moment, Xainne fluttered back to her side, clearly shaken. Previously, she had only seen a brief flash of white light before the massive creature had been severed in two. She didn’t know what had happened and shouted, “What happened just now? What was that thing? You troublesome little sprite, didn’t you steal the World Bow again?!”
“N-no!” the sprite quickly defended herself. “It was this!”
Both of their gazes fell upon that long spear, which had changed slightly from before. The pattern on the spear’s body had transformed, the upper section now shimmering with a noticeable gold hue.
“What is this?” Xainne asked.
“I don’t know,” the sprite shook her head in confusion. “But a bad guy just said it’s theirs.”
“Bad guy?”
“The ones who came to catch you earlier!” the sprite said indignantly.
“I understand now,” Xainne suddenly came to a realization, flapping her wings and circling over the sprite’s head excitedly. “This is the demon-slaying spear they referred to!”
“Demon-slaying spear?” The sprite looked entirely unfamiliar with that term.
“I’ve seen its name in the legends of the Crusian people; it’s the spear of the legendary knight Sir Fleuruit. He used this spear to battle in Hell, stained with the blood of demons—this spear is a bona fide minor artifact!” Xainne exclaimed enviously. “You’re really lucky, sprite, how are you able to use it?”
“I don’t know; I was so scared back then, just like this—” before she could finish her sentence, the spear in her grasp suddenly vibrated lightly, its tip extending a fine white line pointing towards the street ahead.
Both of them simultaneously raised their heads to look in that direction.
……
(PS: Seeking monthly votes.)
