Rua!
Uraaaa!
As her soul burned, the black-haired Witch's mind plunged into a state of pure frenzy and chaos. She screamed and shrieked, hurling bottomless reserves of mana in every direction with gleeful, reckless abandon.
Josephine had already been melted — but there was no calling back an arrow once it had left the bow. The out-of-control black-haired Witch spun in circles, her face alight with the pure, uncomplicated joy of a child pouring an entire kettle of boiling water into an anthill, scattering light and heat to all four corners of the world.
The curtain of night was shredded. The Sea Clan was vaporized. It was as though star after star was rising from the depths of the Abyss — trees ignited and dissolved like scraps of paper tossed into a furnace, and the earth itself cracked apart beneath the assault.
In terms of Class bonuses, Transcendent knowledge, Sequence level, and equipment, she was still far behind a true high-Sequence powerhouse — yet the spell level she had reached at Level 11, boosted by her Class, was a tier that even those high-Sequence Transcendents could scarcely touch. And that difference in degree had become a difference in kind.
In this moment, it was as though a mage approaching the high Sequences was holding nothing back — interpreting the very essence of Transcendent power in its purest, most devastating form. Destroying everything. Annihilating everything.
The Sea Clan forces that had been surging forward like a tide showed, for the first time, the unmistakable sign of a retreating tide. Cries of panic and terror rang out as they trampled their own kin, scrambling over each other in a desperate, frantic rout.
Experience points climbed in chunk after chunk. Only by clinging to the last thread of her remaining sanity did Li Fei manage to keep the Abyssal Lava from igniting herself as well.
...
"That must have been a powerhouse approaching the high Sequences, singing their final aria in the last moments of their life. How dazzling."
Cowell caught a glimpse at the edge of his vision — the distant glow of killing light born from deep, surging flames — and let out a quiet sigh. His longsword rang as a turtle shell deflected it aside.
Dense shadows pressed in from every direction. He and Sherlock had been surrounded as well.
"But that doesn't mean I'm any slouch!"
His battle-qi materialized and suddenly expanded outward in a great surge — fierce as a thunderclap, blazing as a bonfire — until his features blurred and dissolved, leaving only the silhouette of his long hair standing on end like a battle standard.
His greatsword — not sharp so much as massive and crushing — fell again. The blazing sword-aura was a pillar of light: it bisected the enormous sea-turtle blocking his path, and the force carried through to carve a deep, ragged furrow into the earth below.
"Big brother…"
Tears blurred Sherlock's vision. He understood. Cowell was burning through his own life force now too.
"Whatever the cost — is there truly no way to get even one more person out?"
"Please, Uncle Joasen."
He called out in the depths of his mind — and received only a sigh in return.
...
A Royal Fish-man Guard, enormous and imposing, swept its trident in wide arcs, casually cleaving several tree-men in half at the waist.
"We've been marked with its Deep-Sea Brand. We have to deal with it…"
Beatrice's mana transformed into a dense, swarming cloud of bees — and accomplished absolutely nothing against the fish-man.
Fufu gently set Su Ling'er down. Her long, snow-white hooves scraped twice against the ground, and then she turned and caught Beatrice's sleeve between her teeth, tugging gently.
"We're contract partners. We live together, and we die together."
Beatrice read the meaning in Fufu's eyes and answered with action.
She summoned a Black-Stripe Tiger, draped the sleeping Su Ling'er across its back, stroked the girl's cheek softly, and gave her orders: "Run into the island's interior. Hide her somewhere no one will ever find her."
The white tiger's form vanished into the darkness. Beatrice murmured quietly, her voice far away:
"We won't have time to complete the Ascension Ritual at this rate… Fufu, do you remember that Witch we met the last time? She kissed the back of my hand. Touched your horn. And left the two of us two vials of elixir."
"Even if advancing our Sequence right now won't guarantee escape… well, as Li Fei always says — where there's life, there's a way. You have to struggle, at least. Otherwise — what a miserable thing to regret…"
Beatrice murmured as she produced the two vials, even as the number of tree-men still encircling the Royal Fish-man Guard dwindled by the second.
Then she felt something warm and wet press against her hand — Fufu had already extended her soft pink tongue and curled it around one of the vials.
Crunch. Crunch…
Like crushing rock candy between teeth. The mysterious and beautiful Transcendent creature crushed the vial with her gleaming white teeth as easily as breathing, swallowing glass and elixir together in a single gulp.
Beatrice heard the jubilant resonance of mana stirring to life. She watched in stunned disbelief as a cocoon of light enveloped Fufu — her form reshaping itself, slowly and inevitably, into something human.
The elven girl smiled, shook her head with a small laugh, and drank her own vial.
As body and soul ascended, those clear, bright eyes seemed to acquire, for just a moment, the shadow of something darker.
Beatrice tilted her head to one side. She glanced toward the spot where the Black-Stripe Tiger had vanished into the night, then looked out toward the dense forest where she had parted from Li Fei. A smile curled at the corner of her mouth — and to anyone watching, it would have carried an unmistakable, faint edge of seduction:
"Ugh, I really should have given my first kiss to that sleeping beauty just now. Or stolen one from Li Fei."
"Dying with your first kiss still unclaimed — isn't that just a little too tragic?"
"Fufu — we have to make it back alive. Together, we'll go to the Golden Kumquat Tavern and drink and make merry with the most beautiful girls in the city. No regrets in this life…"
She licked her lips. The gaze she turned on the fish-men held no more trace of fear — only a wild, crackling, delighted bloodlust.
...
Seven seconds.
Using her own soul as fuel, the black-haired Witch burned for only seven seconds. One moment, this powerful and terrifying Witch had been scattering Abyssal fire across the world — flames that spoke of sin and Wither — reaping lives with both hands. The next, she dropped to the earth without warning.
Blood seeped from every orifice. From her mouth in particular, it came not as a trickle but as a fountain — a grotesque, gushing cascade that swallowed that flawless, exquisite face in an instant of red.
"No!"
Qin Zhihua let out a cry like a cuckoo's blood-song — a sound of such raw, piercing anguish that her ordinarily graceful and composed features twisted beyond recognition.
She could not rise. She clawed at the dirt with her fingertips, dragging herself toward Li Fei like a wraith hauling itself up from the depths of hell — undignified, desperate, closing the distance any way she could.
Grace abandoned any thought of fleeing — the precious window of escape, gone in a heartbeat. She threw her arms around Li Fei, stumbled toward Qin Zhihua, and said in a trembling voice:
"I can barely feel her soul anymore…"
Qin Zhihua's shaking hands found the sachet. She pried Li Fei's mouth open and poured elixir after elixir — each one worth a fortune, a king's ransom poured down one after another — down her throat, her own tears mingling with the medicine and falling into that open mouth. But Li Fei could not swallow. She only coughed it back out on reflex.
Qin Zhihua's face had gone even more ghastly pale. In a frantic rush, she produced a tube, pushed one end deep into Li Fei's throat, and attached a funnel to the other end. She held the funnel up with trembling effort, reached into the sachet, and drew out handfuls upon handfuls of elixir vials, passing them to Grace:
"Quickly — quickly…"
...
The brilliant light was visible even from the coastline.
The Kraken gazed toward the center of the island. Vast distance and uneven terrain meant nothing to the sight of a high-ranking being — those ice-colored pupils captured clearly the moment the black-haired Witch unleashed herself without restraint, and then the moment she suddenly crumpled to the earth.
Her form began to rise, floating upward. Mana as fathomless and absolute as an abyss spilled outward, flooding the air until the world itself seemed to hold its breath — fine ice crystals condensed in the air, and snowflakes drifted silently down from the night sky.
"Your Majesty — what's wrong?"
The Sirens attending her exchanged confused glances.
"I see her. My consort."
The Kraken's long hair whipped into a frenzy. A single strand lashed out toward the island's interior — extending endlessly, impossibly far — reaching to seize her consort and drag her back.
Boom. Boom. Boom…
From somewhere in the night sky, a sound like the beating of war drums suddenly rang out — as though a sovereign from the depths of the Abyss had awakened, and was striking at the void itself, trying to tear the dimensional barrier apart, to descend upon the material plane and reduce all living things to blood and fodder.
The Kraken's body went rigid. She raised her head — and for the first time, her expression held something it never had before: wariness. Weight.
Crack — crash…
Like a glacier splitting apart. Like the pillars of heaven collapsing. In the sound of shattering that only high-ranking beings could perceive, a jagged, uneven rift tore open in the night air — filled with colors beyond description, churning and shifting in constant, impossible motion.
A small, smooth brown leather shoe extended from the rift. A pretty ankle wrapped in semi-transparent black silk. Half of a slender, perfectly shaped calf.
It was difficult to imagine — that such a beguiling, adorably delicate little foot could have crossed the savage currents of collapsing space, kicked through a spatial node with incomprehensible force, bridged the distance of a thousand mountains and a vast ocean, and delivered its owner to Viranean at a moment when no one should have been able to be here at all.
"Too fast…"
The Kraken sighed, a look of reluctant frustration in her eyes.
The strand of hair that had nearly reached Li Fei snapped back at even greater speed. At the same time, the Kraken's fish tail curled, gathering a sphere of shimmering water-light around herself and the members of the Siren clan — and they dissolved into streaks of radiance, merging with the sea, disappearing into the cold, dark vastness of the ocean.
The loyal Royal Fish-man Guards looked at one another in bewilderment, still not quite registering what had just happened.
"Rrawgh-mm!"
With a roar that was somehow both ferocious and adorable, five snow-soft fingers gripped the edge of the spatial rift — and with the casual ease of prying open elevator doors, tore the opening wide. A girl of pure, biting presence stepped out from the chaos of raging spatial currents in a single stride, her skirt swishing as it settled.
"My Lady — my Lady is here!"
The old mage who had been holding the barrier together inside the dimensional space from sheer willpower burst into tears.
He had used every last Transcendent artifact he owned, and together with five high-Sequence Transcendents serving as living bait, had managed to seal the Nine-Headed Sea Beast within the barrier alongside themselves — but the creature was far too powerful. The seal was already crumbling. There was no possible way it would hold until dawn.
"Tch. Useless…"
Bai Mengtian muttered under her breath. Her figure vanished in an instant — and reappeared above the seal, small white fist raising and swinging down.
Beneath the old mage's expression of absolute, horizon-ending horror, the entire strait twisted. Light and shadow collapsed inward. When the fist landed on the cracked surface of the barrier's light-shell, the world seemed to fall silent for half a breath.
BOOM!
The next instant, a sound that shook heaven and earth rang out. The seal shattered into nothing — along with what could only be described as the faint, pitiful whimpering of a sea beast, and a sky full of blood-mist.
In the deep sea below, a massive, sunken fist-shaped crater had appeared. The sea's surface had been compressed and driven down by well over a hundred meters.
"That punch had over two hundred high-Sequence spells layered into it — isn't that more effective than a staff? Go work out more often," Bai Mengtian said, pointing at the flattened sea beast at the bottom of the crater with an air of sincere, patient advice. "It's probably not dead. Remember to fish it out — I want to open an aquarium."
"But…"
The old mage's brow furrowed deeply. He hesitated, struggling to find the words.
"Hm?"
"Our people… were also inside the barrier…"
"Ah. Right."
Bai Mengtian looked down. Surging seawater was pouring into the crater her fist had punched into existence, the sea level steadily rising, churning waves roaring and thundering as they filled the void.
She snapped her fingers. Five flat, paper-thin shapes drifted up from the water: "Have Maria resurrect them. Count it as an occupational injury — City Hall will cover the expenses."
"Yes, my Lady."
The old mage bowed and accepted the order. When he raised his head again, Bai Mengtian was already gone.
He smiled a tired, rueful smile. He gathered the remains of his comrades carefully, then slipped down into the water.
...
"You should go."
Qin Zhihua suddenly released the tube. Grace moved on pure reflex, catching the funnel before it could tip.
"A wound of the soul cannot be healed."
Qin Zhihua's hair had gone white and brittle as dead wood. Fingers intertwined with Li Fei's, her voice came out barely above a breath, eyelids growing heavier and heavier with each passing second.
With tremendous effort, she dragged herself up and onto Li Fei's body. Her strength gave out, and she went limp — her cheek pressing against the warmth of Li Fei's chest, rising and falling with each shallow breath. They came to rest pressed tightly together, Li Fei's feverish warmth the only thing left to comfort Qin Zhihua's body as it grew slowly colder.
Grace bit through her own lip. Without a word, she kept the tube in position and kept pouring elixir into the funnel.
"Don't let her death mean nothing."
Qin Zhihua's voice, faint and fraying, drifted over.
She cracked her eyes open just a sliver, and in the dim light, something like guilt was visible.
Li Fei was already gone. She no longer cared whether anyone else lived or died.
But if it were possible… she didn't want their resting place disturbed by a third person.
Just let me be selfish, this one last time. Whatever comes after — I'll defer to you in everything.
With that thought, Qin Zhihua labored to produce a vial of incendiary oil, her meaning unmistakable without a single word.
"I will… avenge you."
Grace reached out and took the vial. She was just about to release the funnel when a voice reached her ear — sweet and lilting, dripping with charm:
"Looks like I've arrived at an awkward moment~"
Bai Mengtian looked at her best friend — tube shoved into her mouth, unconscious, looking like a blood-soaked gourd — and burst out laughing. Then, with considerable audacity, she produced her phone, pointed the camera at Li Fei, and clicked the shutter again and again.
Qin Zhihua found strength from somewhere no one could have predicted. She rolled off Li Fei, crawled to Bai Mengtian's side, seized her ankle with both hands, and pleaded:
"Save her. Save her…"
"Sister-in-law — oh wait, I mean younger sister-in-law — please, you really mustn't prostrate yourself like this."
Bai Mengtian dropped to one knee in a sliding bow, caught her before she could fall any lower, and looked Qin Zhihua over — taking in that fragile, wretched, heartbreakingly beautiful face.
What an extraordinary woman… She hits every single mark on my list. I'm almost tempted to use her beloved's life as a bargaining chip, and then — heh.
But a friend's wife is not mine to touch. What a pity.
Bai Mengtian suppressed her reluctance and helped Qin Zhihua to her feet. Gentle mana flowed into Qin Zhihua's body — repairing organs, reknitting severed meridians. The head of white hair bloomed back to lustrous, brilliant black like dead wood finding spring again.
"Don't worry. It's only soul depletion. She can be brought back — though there may be some lingering side effects."
Bai Mengtian was still murmuring her reassurances when vague, surging silhouettes of Sea Clan forces began to close in once more from all sides — among them, presences of considerable power. From the sky, Sea-Flying Serpents beat their wings, drawing nearer.
Apparently, the terrifying display of the black-haired Witch burning her soul had only been enough to send the lower-ranked Sea Clan into a panic. Once the elite units had been roused, they had rallied, regrouped, and come charging back with full, murderous momentum.
Grace instinctively tightened her grip on her black-and-red longbow. Bai Mengtian only smiled — a casual, idle little smile — and parted her lips:
"Bai Mengtian thus spoke — Sea Clan: drop dead."
An immense, transcendent mana rolled outward. In Grace's field of vision, Bai Mengtian's silhouette began to distort — like a shadow leaping and dancing in the glow of a campfire, or like something vast and magnificent from a higher plane of existence descending into this world, inspiring an involuntary urge to kneel and worship.
A moment later, everything went still. Bai Mengtian was once again simply a breathtaking, infuriatingly smug black-haired girl — but as far as the eye could see, the dense mass of dark silhouettes had frozen in place. The cacophony of guttural cries was gone. The world was silent.
Thud. Thud-thud-thud…
The night wind passed. The Sea Clan fell — row after row after row — like stalks of wheat cut clean by a scythe.
So this is what the power of one of the Seven Supreme-class beings of the Continent of Enlos truly looks like…
Grace's heart surged. She clenched her fist until her knuckles ached.
...
Kenneth, who had been in the middle of reciting his last will and testament, stared at the wall of pursuing enemies dropping one by one into stillness. He blinked. Then he said, voice halting:
"So, uh — Sherlock — help me up. I think I can still make it…"
Several miles away, an elven girl stood staring in jaw-dropped, wide-eyed disbelief at the Royal Fish-man Guards who had collapsed for no discernible reason whatsoever. Then she turned her head to look at the white-haired little girl beside her — who was wearing an expression of perfect, practiced innocence — and covered her face with both hands, unable to watch:
"Fufu, change back first. When we're home, I'll take you out shopping for some clothes…"
____
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