NOVEL NEXT Vol. 2 Chapter 114: Dread
While Deedee is trapped in her desperate inner battle, the Lich Ques doesn’t remain idle. With a flick of his skeletal fingers, he commands a group of skeletons to attack the policewoman from behind.
The skeletons advance with heavy steps, but before they can strike her, a whirlwind of flames materializes around them.
The fire engulfs the fragile bones of the undead, turning them to ash in an instant. The flames expand like a purifying tornado, and in the midst of the blazing chaos, Tersiflare, the beautiful ethereal summon, emerges.
The figure of the spirit is adorned with ribbons of fire that float sinuously around her, like serpents made of flames.
Xiaikai, her summoner, descends from above, her pink hair fluttering, supported by one of these fiery ribbons that gently grasps her, allowing her to land without a scratch. Her grace and the power of her spirit come together in one fluid motion.
Watching Deedee, Xiaikai notices with concern the irrational behavior in the woman. Something about her is off.
She does not fight like an experienced huntress but like a desperate woman. Every swing of her sword is filled with pain, anger, and frustration, as if she’s being forced to fight against her will. Her movements, though deadly, lack strategic precision. They are becoming mechanical, impulsive actions.
She cannot allow Deedee to continue in this state. Xiaikai knows that without the right support, the woman will be defeated. Despite her violent fury, Deedee cannot face Ivanhold like this, especially as the air around them grows colder and colder.
With a decisive gesture, Xiaikai amplifies the intensity of the fire aura surrounding her companion. The flames quickly expand, enveloping Deedee in a protective mantle, making her almost untouchable. The flames not only shield her from the cold but also pour onto her blade, engulfing it in a fiery glow.
Now, every strike Deedee delivers against Ivanhold's ice barriers is charged with the power of the flames, making her attacks even more lethal.
Tersiflare, with her grace, advances alongside Deedee. Her fiery ribbons extend like blazing whips, striking in a series of fluid, perfectly coordinated movements. Each strike shatters one of the ice barriers Ivanhold erects to defend himself.
The barriers crumble under the unbearable heat of the flames, dissolving into clouds of steam that the mage struggles to resolidify due to the relentless combined assault of the two.
Despite being undead, Ivanhold seems to recognize the power of the enemy before him.
With unnatural calm, he uses the surrounding skeletons as shields, placing them in front of himself as he retreats to buy time and slow the relentless offensive from Deedee and Tersiflare. In doing so, he covers them with ice magic to reinforce their defenses.
Every skeleton that stands between them is either consumed by flames or cut down by Deedee’s blade, but their numbers seem endless.
Each step Ivanhold takes backward is calculated, as if he is preparing something more devastating.
Behind his empty eyes, it seems like he’s waiting for the right moment to counterattack.
The green-haired woman persists in her assault, overwhelmed by a bloodthirsty frenzy. Her aquamarine eyes shed tears, every muscle in her body aches, and her heart breaks from the pain. In this forced contrast—having to kill the man she once loved—she is also consumed by the pleasure of the uninhibited hunt.
She hates herself, she hates Strauss Wagner, while both relishing and suffering in the act of killing her prey without bearing the responsibility for it.
A double betrayal—one against her Master and the other against Ivanhold. As the tattoo burns and the tears flow, Deedee can only wallow in her personal hell while her body does what it does best: hunt.
Kanna Merfal realizes this is the decisive moment.
Her long black hair sways with the impacts caused by the spells from Ivanhold and Tersiflare.
Now that the mage is occupied, the Lich is no longer protected.
If they don’t act now, they won’t have another chance. If left unchecked, the Lich could support Ivanhold, making Xiaikai and Deedee’s assault futile.
Every second counts. With determination, the cleric raises her mace and calls her companions to action.
“Welze, Luysia! With me!” Her voice cuts through the air, an order that cannot be ignored.
Welze, still trembling and distracted by the battle between Ivanhold, Xiaikai, and Deedee, nods hesitantly. Her heart races, but she tries to focus.
“Y-yes…” she stammers, trying to ignore the fear creeping into her thoughts. The scale of the conflict she’s witnessing is far beyond her imagination. The excitement she once felt about being part of a grand adventure has slowly been overtaken by a sense of inadequacy when facing enemies of this caliber.
Luysia Camclair, on the other hand, doesn’t hesitate.
The blonde warrior responds with fierce determination. Her halberd spins through the air, cleaving skeletons that attempt to block her path. The clatter of shattered bones fills the air as she advances like an unstoppable whirlwind. The former paladin appears as a goddess of war, her armor gleaming as the bones of her enemies crumble beneath her blows.
Ques watches with amusement at what appears to him to be a futile attempt.
Like an involuntary tic, he begins to clatter his exposed teeth, the prelude to a horrible laugh.
The sound of the clattering seems synchronized with the movement of his skeletons.
A hissing whistle cuts through the air, followed by others, faster and more menacing.
Skeleton archers, controlled by the Lich, unleash a rain of rusted arrows from their hidden positions among the debris of the ruined temple.
The first arrows lodge into the ground around Kanna, mostly ineffective and dulled by the armor and the uneven terrain. Some snap upon impact with the stones or bounce harmlessly off Silverdark’s protective gear.
But then, one of the arrows pierces the air with more force, striking Kanna’s exposed arm. The pain is sharp, and the rush of blood makes her clench her teeth to keep from crying out.