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The Dark Novels

In a world where the chosen one has defeated the demon lord and brought peace to the realm, now 500 years have passed since the demon's defeat. Aetheria, the world, appears peaceful, but is it truly so?

Q_Tip · Fantasie
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267 Chs

Chapter 117

Bilmoth couldn't believe what he was seeing. Enryu, the most powerful creature Kazon's bloodline could summon—a dragon with the power to destroy an entire world given enough time—was being fought and held back by a single mortal human. It defied all logic. *How is a human with another human in his arms able to do this?* he wondered, perplexed and astounded.

However, he didn't have much time to comprehend this as a minor spirit warned him: *Behind.* Bilmoth spun around and raised his left arm just in time to block a heavy swing from Mar. With a swift counter, he delivered a powerful punch to Mar's chest, sending the lycan staggering backward, gasping for breath.

*Left,* another warning came. Bilmoth quickly summoned the wind spirits to create a barrier, just as Orian launched a barrage of wind blades at him. The shimmering air deflected the blades, scattering them harmlessly. Bilmoth retaliated with a bolt of fire, using the minor fire spirits.

"Bang," Bilmoth heard, prompting him to quickly assess whether it was a feint. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, he used the minor earth spirits to erect a cobblestone barrier. The sound of cracking stone confirmed he made the right choice, as the demon's bladed claw struck the barrier, sending shards of stone flying.

Refocusing on Mar, Bilmoth saw the lycan attempt a feint, pretending to swipe with his claws but switching to a sudden, vicious bite. Not falling for the ruse, Bilmoth swiftly sidestepped and struck Mar in the throat with a precise jab. The lycan choked and stumbled, clutching his throat. Bilmoth didn't let up; he followed with a powerful front kick, his foot connecting with Mar's midsection and sending him flying backward, crashing into a pile of debris.

Even gritted his teeth, about to fire off another beam of mana, only to be stopped by Xain. "Don't. He'll just dodge it, and you'll tire yourself out further," Xain said, wrenching Even's arm downward with his uninjured hand.

Even glared at him in annoyance. "Then what do you want me to do!? Sit on my ass like an idiot!?" he exclaimed.

Xain grimaced, his mind racing as he observed the chaotic battle unfolding before them. *This would have been the perfect time for you to come back, Erkie!* he thought, lamenting Ercale's absence. Forcing himself to focus, he analyzed the situation, desperate for a strategy. *Think, think! What can you do to beat this guy? He has different colored balls floating around him that can fling magic, and he fights unarmed with terrifying skill and strength.*

His broken forearm throbbed painfully, reminding him of Bilmoth's overwhelming power. *Come on, just think!* he yelled at himself. Then, he suddenly noticed something, the woman lying on the ground in a pool of blood. *Is she...?* An idea struck him, a risky gamble that might turn the tide. *Better than nothing. I have to risk it.*

Turning to Even, Xain whispered urgently, "Wait for my signal and fire off that laser of yours, but lower the output if you can."

Even looked annoyed and angered by the fact that Xain was giving him orders but nodded and grumbled, "Whatever, I'll try."

Xain nodded, thinking, *Best I could hope for, I guess.* He turned back to Bilmoth, who had just finished fending off a coordinated attack from the demon and Mar. Bilmoth's movements were precise and powerful, each strike and block a testament to his prowess. The demon lunged with a bladed arm, but Bilmoth deflected it with a swift parry, countering with a punch that forced the demon to retreat. Mar, recovering from Bilmoth's earlier kick, attempted to flank him, but Bilmoth anticipated the move, spinning and landing a solid kick to Mar's ribs, sending him sprawling again.

Taking a deep breath, Xain steadied himself. *Here goes nothing,* he thought, before putting his plan into action.

Bilmoth blocked more blades of wind from Orian, growing increasingly annoyed at the constant attacks that prevented him from committing to a fatal strike. *Behind,* a minor spirit warned. Bilmoth turned just in time to block a front kick from Xain.

"What a pest!" Bilmoth snapped, deflecting the kick. Xain followed up with a left hook, but Bilmoth dodged it by backstepping. He prepared to counter with a bolt of fire, but Xain closed the distance rapidly. Bilmoth clicked his tongue in irritation, readying himself to react to either a punch or a kick. As Xain's right hand clenched, Bilmoth thought, *A feint, it has to be.* He knew Xain's right forearm was broken, and attacking with it would cause Xain more pain than it would inflict. Yet, as Xain's fist drew closer, Bilmoth realized Xain was committing to the punch. *What an idiot,* Bilmoth thought.

Xain's smile threw Bilmoth off, and he barely had time to react as Xain turned his punch into an elbow strike. Xain pivoted his body, shifting his weight to his left leg and bringing his right arm in a tight arc. The elbow strike caught Bilmoth off guard, clipping his jaw and disorienting him briefly.

"Now!" Xain yelled.

Even aimed his right palm at Bilmoth, unleashing a thinner beam of pure yellow mana. The attack shot towards Bilmoth with deadly precision. Everyone watched, anticipating the end of Bilmoth. However, Bilmoth, with sheer determination, forced himself to dodge the attack, the beam narrowly missing him and dissipating harmlessly.

"That didn't work, you damn pest!" Bilmoth shouted, his rage palpable.

Everyone tensed and Even yelled at Xain, "Great fucking plan, dumbass!" only to see Xain not tense but focused, his eyes not on Bilmoth but on the person lying behind him. *Come on, please tell me I was right!* Xain silently prayed.

As Bilmoth readied to retaliate, a minor spirit warned him again: *Behind!* Bilmoth's eyes widened. *Impossible!* he thought as he turned around. But all he could see was a pool of blood—and nothing else—until a sharp pain pierced through his back. The tip of a rapier emerged from his chest. Bilmoth spat blood, turning his head to gaze back at Mincs. In that fleeting moment, he saw a glint of hysteria in her eyes and a fragment of a manic smile.

At that moment, realization dawned on him. "You're an Ambrose?" he muttered through a pain-filled gasp. Mincs didn't respond with words. Instead, she channeled her magic through her rapier. A sharp burst of flame traveled along the blade, incinerating Bilmoth's internal organs before erupting from his chest in a bright, fiery explosion.

Mincs withdrew her rapier smoothly, allowing Bilmoth to fall to the ground. As his life ebbed away, he locked eyes with her. In those final moments, he thought, *I'm honored to have died by the blade of an Ambrose.*

Finally! This fight is over! Only like three more to go!!!

Au revoir!

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