The black mist tore through the night with manic laughter as it lunged toward Natasha.
Natasha didn't dare to be careless. She stepped back lightly on her long legs and bent her waist. The black mist, carried by its own momentum, swept past her face.
Only Natasha dared use such a maneuver. Anyone else would have fled in terror long ago.
The mist was enraged by Natasha's composure. Suddenly, it surged and twisted into the shape of a long serpent, snapping toward her.
"Coulson!"
Natasha's expression changed, and she let out a sharp cry.
That evasive move was only meant to be used once. To try it again was to flirt with death—especially now that the black mist had nearly driven her into a corner.
"Natasha!"
Coulson saw her peril as well. Without hesitation, he charged forward, his longsword slicing through the air toward the mist.
You again!
The black mist was forced to scatter, narrowly avoiding Coulson's blade.
But while it dodged the sword, it failed to avoid Natasha.
Seeing it about to escape, Natasha would never let such a perfect opening slip by. Taking advantage of the fact that its attention was focused entirely on Coulson, she snatched the dagger from the mist's grasp.
Shhk!
By the time the black mist realized what happened, the dagger had already been pulled from its body and was back in Natasha's hand.
The longsword was troublesome enough for the creature—now there was the dagger as well. The black mist wasn't stupid. It wanted to retreat, and it intended to.
But Natasha and Coulson clearly had no intention of letting it escape. The two rushed forward side by side, sword and dagger sweeping in tandem, aiming to finish it off.
The black mist writhed in pain and shot upward into the air, preparing to flee.
But before it could break free, Coulson brought his sword down, pinning the creature's tail to the ground.
"Natasha, now!"
Natasha's expression hardened. She crouched slightly, took a few quick steps, then leapt—stepping off Coulson's back to propel herself upward as she stabbed the struggling mist.
The mist's very soul trembled in fear. It darted frantically to avoid her strike.
Natasha shifted her grip midair, turning her thrust into a slicing arc instead. A backup option—one she executed without hesitation.
Shhk!
The dagger sliced through flesh once more. This time, it wasn't just blood. A portion of the mist's body solidified into a chunk of torn flesh and fell to the ground.
The black mist screamed, its entire form shaking violently.
The agony of having a chunk of your body carved away was unbearable even for it.
Kill him while he's weak!
Natasha understood perfectly.
She glanced at Coulson, who was struggling to keep the sword pressed down and prevent the mist from slipping free. Without hesitation, she sprang forward again, dagger aimed at the creature.
The mist was writhing, but it was also watching her—the one who had taken its flesh.
Seeing her rush in again, it abruptly stopped struggling. It intended to settle every grievance—all at once.
The black fog split into more than a dozen tentacle-like tendrils, all surging toward Natasha.
The tendrils were numerous and came from impossible angles. There was no way she could cut through them all with a dagger. She was airborne, with nowhere to dodge. The situation was extremely dangerous.
Yet even in the face of this overwhelming threat, Natasha showed no panic—not even a flicker of fear. She simply stared straight at the mist, as if fully accepting her fate.
Just as the tendrils were about to close around her—
The black mist suddenly felt its body go slack. The pain at its tail vanished instantly.
A wave of joy washed over it. It thought it had finally escaped the sword's restraint. It accelerated, lunging toward Natasha.
In that very moment—just as it was about to seize her—
A sharp pain exploded through the center of its body. Before it could cry out, another spike of agony tore through its upper half.
Its back buckled. Its form collapsed. All the tentacles dissolved and fell.
Coulson had seized the perfect moment. He released his hold just long enough to swing the sword upward, severing the black mist. Then he stabbed again, spearing the creature through its center.
The opening he created saved Natasha.
Natasha was free—but she didn't relax. As she fell, she reversed her grip and plunged the dagger straight into the mist as it fell with her.
Thud!
The falling force drove the dagger deep into the ground, pinning the black mist firmly in place.
This time, the mist was truly gravely injured. It could no longer maintain its form. Its illusion dissolved, revealing the human figure concealed within.
But he was in unbearable pain. Coulson's longsword pierced through his back, Natasha's dagger pinned through his shoulder. He was nailed to the ground, completely immobilized.
"Just one last step—let's finish this."
He had only a breath left.
To ensure nothing could ever be reversed—he had to die.
"Hurry!" Coulson urged.
"Got it."
Natasha carefully approached the pinned figure. After confirming he couldn't move, she pulled the dagger free and, without hesitation, drove it straight through his hate-filled eyes, severing his head in a single motion.
No one could guarantee what he might become if he lived—so ending it completely was the only option.
As for the hatred in his eyes—it meant nothing. Natasha had long since become immune to such things.
"It's finally over. All that sword training wasn't for nothing after all." Coulson let out a long breath as he looked at the decapitated body.
"Stop celebrating. Help me search the place. There has to be something useful here."
Natasha hadn't forgotten her secondary mission—finding clues.
"Right!"
Coulson found nothing strange about that and immediately agreed.