Chương 284: Resurgence IV
As Cassius's astral energy infused fist descended with lethal intent, crimson threads erupted from the ether, weaving through the air with impossible precision. They coiled around the fist, halting its deadly momentum as if mocking the very laws of nature.
Cassius's eyes widened, his fury crackling in the tense silence. "How dare you, Alyssara!" he spat, his voice laced with venom.
The blood astral energy surrounding him surged, expanding outward like a tidal wave. His intent to kill me remained undeterred, but the crimson threads held firm, resisting him with an almost playful defiance.
And then she arrived.
Alyssara Velcroix stepped into view, her pink hair cascading like silk as she moved with an elegance that belied the violence she carried. She danced forward, her movements as fluid as water, and in the blink of an eye, she was atop Cassius, her form impossibly light yet devastatingly precise.
Before I could even process what was happening, there was a gaping hole in Cassius's chest. The wound didn't bleed—it pulsed with void-like energy, as though something fundamental had been torn from him.
But Alyssara wasn't finished. In a blur of motion too fast for my eyes to follow, her astral energy unleashed a symphony of destruction. Though I couldn't see the individual strikes, their results were clear: Cassius's body contorted and fractured under the relentless assault, each blow dismantling him at a cellular level. The once-proud vampire prince was reduced to a broken shell, barely held together.
Finally, Alyssara's crimson threads returned, binding Cassius like a marionette in her web. His astral energy flickered and dimmed, trapped and subdued by her unparalleled power.
"Hello~," she chimed, turning her gaze to me. Her cyan-green eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker, something far more terrifying.
A chill ran down my spine, colder than any fear I'd felt facing Cassius. The predator before me was no mere vampire. She was Alyssara Velcroix, the Crimson Dancer, the Cult Leader of the Red Chalice.
Cassius, for all his strength and malice, was gone. And yet the air felt heavier, the danger far greater. Because now I was standing before something far more monstrous, something far more unpredictable.
Alyssara smiled, her threads twitching slightly as though alive. "You look pale, Arthur," she teased. "Surely you're not scared of me?"
Damn it, she looked unhinged now—her cyan-green eyes gleamed with a manic light that sent every rational thought in my head spiraling into chaos.
I was screwed. Totally and utterly screwed.
Her gaze shifted to Rachel, and my body moved before my brain could catch up. Instinct took over. I threw myself over Rachel, shielding her as best I could.
A sudden, brutal force struck my back, sending a shockwave of pain through every nerve in my body. I collapsed onto Rachel with a guttural groan, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs.
"Arthur!" Rachel's voice was frantic beneath me, muffled but desperate, as I struggled to remain conscious. My vision blurred, and my limbs felt like lead.
She hit so damn hard. My thoughts raced, panic and pain mingling as I tried to move, but my body refused to cooperate.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Cecilia and Seraphina among the other students. They looked ready to jump in but hesitated, their fear paralyzing them. I couldn't blame them. What could they do against someone like Alyssara?
Absolutely nothing. Trying to help would only end in more blood spilled.
"You really did try to protect her," Alyssara chuckled, her voice a sickly sweet melody as she sauntered toward us. She could have easily killed Rachel before I even moved; that much was clear.
No, she had held back, slowed herself down deliberately. She wanted me to react this way. She wanted to toy with me.
Alyssara crouched beside us, her crimson threads materializing with a casual flick of her fingers. They wrapped around me, binding me like a puppet in her hands, their texture alien and unyielding. I couldn't move, couldn't resist. These were the same threads that had stopped Cassius's astral energy—what chance did I have?
Her lips curled into a dangerous smile as she pulled me away from Rachel, her strength making it look effortless. I gritted my teeth, my body screaming in protest.
"You're such a sweet little knight, aren't you?" she cooed, her tone dripping with mockery. She licked her lips, her gaze a predator's locked onto prey.
The threads tightened, and for a moment, I thought I might pass out from the pressure. But she wasn't focused on Rachel anymore. She had what she wanted: me.
I summoned what little strength I had left and channeled a burst of wind mana, pushing Rachel back and away from Alyssara's reach. It wasn't much, but it was all I could do.
Alyssara didn't even glance at her. Rachel's escape didn't matter to her in the slightest.
No, her focus was entirely on me.
"I finally have you, Arthur," she whispered, her voice as soft as silk and twice as suffocating. A shiver rippled down my spine, not from the cold but from the weight of her words, heavy and inescapable.
"What do you want?" I spat, my voice laced with equal parts defiance and desperation.
Her cyan-green eyes glowed with something primal, something obsessive. "I want you," she said, her tone intoxicatingly sweet yet venomous at its core. "I want to break you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left of you that doesn't belong to me. Completely. Utterly. I've never felt this way before… this love."
Love. She called it love. But it was something far more twisted. Hearing her say it only made the knot in my stomach tighten further.
"Get away from him!" Nero's voice roared across the cavern, cutting through the haze of her words like a blade. He stood firm, his eyes blazing with resolve as his hands moved in intricate arcs, summoning an onslaught of spells. Elemental forces tore through the air, a storm of fire, ice, and lightning, all converging toward her.
Alyssara didn't even bother to glance at him. Her crimson threads coiled and snapped, each one moving as though it had a mind of its own. They intercepted the incoming spells with effortless precision, unraveling the magic like a master undoing a tangled knot. Sparks flew, lighting up the cavern in a macabre dance of destruction.
Her smile grew. "Admirable. But pointless," she murmured, her gaze never leaving mine.
Nero wasn't deterred. His expression darkened, and his mana surged with renewed fury. He clasped his hands together, drawing every ounce of power from within. The air around him vibrated with raw energy, thick and suffocating.
"Arthur!" Nero yelled, his voice strained but unwavering. "Stay alive!"
I felt it before I saw it. His mana crystallized into a massive spell circle that hovered above him, glowing with the intensity of a dying star. The runes etched into its surface pulsed with otherworldly light as his ultimate spell—an 8-circle pinnacle—took form.
The cavern trembled under the weight of his magic. This was Nero's peak, the culmination of his strength and skill, a spell capable of leveling mountains and rewriting landscapes.
"Permafrost Inferno," Nero intoned, his voice echoing with finality.
The spell unleashed a torrent of blazing ice and burning frost, a paradoxical force that surged toward Alyssara with a roar that shook the very ground. It was a storm that defied nature itself, its brilliance momentarily drowning out the oppressive glow of the Red Sun.
But Alyssara remained unmoved. Her smile faltered, only to be replaced by something far more terrifying: indifference.
She raised her hand, and the cavern dimmed as another spell circle formed above her, its complexity far surpassing Nero's. The markings of a 9-circle spell burned into the air, radiating an aura so suffocating it made my knees buckle.
"Oblivion Weave," she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of doom.
The air tore apart as her spell unraveled Nero's Permafrost Inferno. The clash was cataclysmic, the combined energies of their spells creating a shockwave that rattled the walls and sent cracks splintering across the ground. But it wasn't a contest. Her magic consumed his entirely, reducing it to nothingness in the blink of an eye.
Before Nero could react, crimson threads erupted from the remnants of her spell. They coiled around him like vipers, piercing through his defenses and binding him in place. His eyes widened in pain as the threads tightened, cutting into his flesh and magic alike.
"Run, Arthur," he rasped, his voice strained as he turned to me. His eyes met mine, and in that fleeting moment, they spoke a thousand words. Words of regret, of duty, of sacrifice.
Then, Alyssara closed her fist.
The threads constricted. Nero's body convulsed, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might break free. But the light in his eyes dimmed, and his body went limp as the threads shredded him apart, leaving nothing behind but a faint trace of mana in the air.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My body felt like it was being crushed under the weight of the reality in front of me.
"Well," Alyssara said, dusting her hands as though she had simply finished tidying up. "That was disappointing."
Her gaze returned to me, sharp and unwavering. "Now, where were we?"
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