Capítulo 301: Twilight Ice Sovereign
Cassius's body had been obliterated time and time again, reduced to fragments by the relentless power of Selene's Glaive Unity. Each time his form dissolved, his blood astral energy struggled to knit him back together, but now his reserves were nearly dry. His once-indomitable regeneration slowed to a pitiful crawl, and the flicker of defiance in his eyes had dulled.
He was going to die. There was no other possibility.
Selene, her movements precise yet almost relaxed, swung her glaive effortlessly through the subspace, carving apart the remnants of Cassius's Domain like mist before the sun. Though the battle had worn on, her injuries were superficial, her Radiant-rank vitality knitting her wounds even as they were inflicted.
"Kem, go. The others need you," she ordered, her voice calm but unyielding. With a final, casual twist of her glaive, she warped the space around him, sending her brother to rejoin the Void Vanguard. There was no need for him to stay. This fight was hers alone, and it was nearly over.
Cassius staggered, his form barely holding together, his once-proud presence now reduced to a shadow of what it had been. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, his breath ragged, his night and blood astral energy flickering weakly around him like a dying flame. The inevitability of his end pressed down on him, a crushing weight that he could no longer deny.
Selene raised her glaive one last time, the blade shimmering with an icy radiance that reflected her unshakable resolve. She stared down at him with a measured calm, a queen addressing a defeated usurper.
"Goodbye, prince," she said, her voice quiet but resolute.
The glaive descended, the final swing meant to shatter his form and extinguish his existence entirely. But just as the blade neared, crimson threads erupted from the void, weaving through the air with serpentine grace. They coiled around her glaive, halting its descent as though it had struck an impenetrable wall.
Selene froze, her eyes narrowing as a chill swept through the subspace—not from her own ice astral energy, but from something far more sinister. The threads pulsed with a malevolent life of their own, their presence heavy and oppressive.
From the shadows, Alyssara emerged, her figure stepping effortlessly through the distorted space as if it were her domain alone. Her pink hair shimmered like the edge of dawn, and her jade eyes, sharp and gleaming, locked onto Selene with a cold amusement.
Selene's fingers tightened on the hilt of her glaive, her body stiffening instinctively. There was no mistaking the overwhelming power radiating from Alyssara, a force so vast it dwarfed even Cassius's once-formidable strength.
"You've done well," Alyssara said, her tone light, almost mocking. "But I think the prince has had enough excitement for one day."
Selene's heart pounded, a chill creeping down her spine despite her best efforts to maintain her composure. This presence… it was monstrous. Absolute.
Alyssara tilted her head, her jade eyes gleaming with faint amusement. "I'll be taking him now."
And with a flick of her wrist, the crimson threads tightened, forcing Selene to step back as Alyssara loomed over Cassius, her power reshaping the battlefield with terrifying ease.
Alyssara stood above the battlefield, her jade-green eyes glowing faintly as her crimson threads wove through the air, a tapestry of blood and power. She barely needed to lift a finger as the threads snapped and slithered, dismantling the remnants of Cassius's shattered Domain and whisking him away from the battlefield.
The gulf between her and Selene was undeniable, a fact both women recognized without words. Alyssara didn't need to fight—she had no desire to waste her time or energy on Selene without reason. Selene, for her part, understood the futility of any confrontation. Without Magnus Draykar or Mo Zenith at her side, there was no point in challenging Alyssara.
"Like I promised," Alyssara murmured, her voice carrying with an eerie calm, "I won't kill you."
With a dismissive wave, the remnants of Cassius's Domain dissolved into nothing, the subspace folding in on itself like a crumpled sheet of paper. Her threads wrapped around her and Cassius, warping space in an instant. They vanished without so much as a ripple, leaving Selene standing alone in the wreckage.
Selene tightened her grip on her glaive, her knuckles white against the hilt. The oppressive aura that had enveloped her moments ago dissipated, leaving only the faint tremor of her own breath. She licked her dry lips and turned her gaze toward the distant sound of battle. Her mission was far from over, and the Void Vanguard needed her now more than ever.
With a measured exhale, Selene turned and strode back toward the fray, her posture steady despite the tension in her frame.
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Miles away, where the mountains met the sky, Alyssara materialized on a stark cliff face. The bloodied form of Cassius lay unconscious at her feet, but her attention was already elsewhere. Her jade eyes swept across the distant battlefield, watching as her crimson threads danced through the air like living things, plucking vampires and cultists from their struggles one by one.
"Not yet," Alyssara murmured, her fingers moving in an elegant, almost hypnotic rhythm as she controlled the threads with an ease born of mastery. The cultists and vampires had their uses. They were pawns on a chessboard she was carefully arranging, each piece serving a purpose.
Arthur had to grow.
"My Arthur," she whispered, her lips curling into a faint smile as her threads wove patterns in the air.
He was remarkable already—beyond remarkable, really. The strongest Integration-ranker in history, Arthur was an anomaly even by the standards of prodigies. Yet, as powerful as he was, he was incomplete. His raw strength and natural talent had carried him far, but his flaws were glaring to her discerning eye.
He lacked polish.
Arthur was brilliant, but reckless. His strategies were sharp, but his impatience dulled their edge. As a leader, he was passionate, yet unrefined. He had the potential to command armies, to inspire devotion, but his instincts needed tempering. Alyssara didn't just want Arthur to survive—she wanted him to thrive. To become everything he was meant to be.
If she didn't care, she wouldn't have sent him to face Vaelor, a foe who pushed him to his limits but did not surpass them. She could have sent him to face a high Ascendant-rank Vampire Elder, one who would have crushed him without mercy. But that would have been counterproductive.
Arthur needed refinement, not annihilation.
The vampires and cultists were perfect for that purpose. Their strength, their cunning, their relentless aggression—these were the crucibles in which Arthur would be forged. Through battles and hardships, he would learn the discipline and patience he needed to ascend to his rightful place.
Alyssara closed her eyes, her smile widening slightly. She would ensure he grew into the man she remembered, the man who had once stood at the pinnacle of the world. And when the time came, when he was ready, she would face him as his equal.
At that moment, their fates would intertwine in a battle worthy of the heights they had both reached. If Arthur triumphed, he would claim the future that lay ahead of him. If not, Alyssara would cage him, her obsession finally fulfilled.
But until then, there was work to be done. Her threads glimmered in the fading light as they darted back toward the battlefield, unseen and unstoppable.
The game was far from over.
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