"What the hell are you babbling about?!"
Tione gripped her injured shoulder. For the first time, her face—which usually maintained the elegant facade of a perfect lady—contorted into a hideous, vicious snarl.
"I'm going to tear you apart, and then I'm going to slaughter that fake!"
"AAAAAH! I'm going to cut you to pieces!"
In the distant ruins, Tiona pushed herself back to her feet. Her eyes were bloodshot as she hoisted the massive double-bladed Urga. Like a frenzied beast, she charged at Childe once again.
"Tch. Who gives a damn about those scrubs?" Bete spat out a mouthful of blood, his mouth still running with insults meant for his own comrades. "If they get killed, it's just because they're weak. The weak have no business being adventurers in the first place."
Yet despite his harsh words, his movements were more frantic and desperate than ever before.
His silver silhouette blurred, transforming into a streak of light nearly impossible for the naked eye to track.
"Tempest."
Ais chanted in a low whisper.
The emerald gales enshrouding her body seemed to sense their master's unyielding fury, surging with an unprecedented, violent intensity. The immense wind pressure whipped her silky golden hair high into the air, revealing a pair of piercing golden eyes.
"Got a plan yet, Finn?"
Gareth wrenched the lightning spear out of his shoulder, ignoring the sudden spray of blood. He swung the Grand Axe, unleashing his earth-shattering magic, Ardeus, straight at Childe.
"Just like old times. I'll bring up the rear."
"You won't be able to hold him off alone."
Finn's gaze darted frantically between the two battlefields.
He knew exactly what Gareth was suggesting. In countless desperate situations in the past, his dwarven best friend had always used his impenetrable body as a shield, standing between the Familia and certain death.
But this time was different.
Given Childe's speed—which bordered on outright teleportation—there was no running away. This man wasn't like the mindless monsters that only knew how to blindly give chase.
He was a hunter reveling in the thrill of the hunt.
There was no way he would let his battered, cornered prey escape. Leaving Gareth behind to stall for time was a completely unrealistic fantasy.
If they truly left Gareth alone this time, Finn would lose his oldest friend forever. The Loki Familia would permanently lose one of its most unshakeable pillars.
"Don't even think about it."
Childe seemed to see right through Finn's intentions.
He didn't give the Braver a single second to strategize. Several bolts of dark purple lightning crashed down from the sky, accurately sealing off all of Finn's escape routes. Forced into a corner, Finn had no choice but to raise his spear and rejoin the siege, entirely stripped of the time needed to think.
For the Loki Familia, the situation was no longer merely "disadvantageous."
They were sliding straight into the abyss of total annihilation.
On the other side of the battlefield, the despair was even more palpable.
Anakitty and the second-string elites were rapidly falling one after another. After a brief moment of shock and terror, the remaining lower-level Loki Familia members found a resolute, suicidal light burning in their eyes.
"For our comrades!"
"We are the Loki Familia!"
It was unclear who shouted first, but the surviving dozen or so Level 2 and Level 3 adventurers mustered the very last of their courage. Gripping their weapons tightly, they launched a tragic, desperate charge at the "Aiden" standing amidst the pools of blood like the Grim Reaper himself.
They knew they were marching to their deaths.
But they also knew that standing behind them were the defenseless mages—their friends, their family.
However, the only thing waiting to welcome them was a flurry of cold, merciless crimson slashes.
"Aiden" didn't even bother to move from his spot.
He simply stood there, casually swinging his fiery sword. Every single motion unleashed a blazing crimson crescent capable of tearing through anything in its path.
A muscular Beast Person adventurer carrying a tower shield roared as he led the charge. The steel shield—sturdy enough to withstand the direct charge of a juvenile wyvern—was silently sliced apart the moment it made contact with the blade of light, yielding like a hot knife cutting through butter.
In the very next second, the adventurer behind the shield was cleaved completely in half, heavy armor and all.
An agile Cat Person girl attempted to flank him from the side, but "Aiden" possessed terrifying intuition. He swung his blade out of pure instinct.
The curved scimitar in her hands melted into molten metal the second she tried to parry. An instant later, half of her body was vaporized by the blistering heat of the sword aura.
Spears were snapped, battle axes melted. Before this absolute heat and unparalleled sharpness, leather, chainmail, and plate armor offered no more protection than ordinary cloth.
The crimson slashes ran rampant. Wherever they swept, severed limbs were sent flying into the air.
Hot blood sprayed outward, only to be instantly flash-boiled into a fine red mist by the scorching air.
Some adventurers didn't even have the chance to scream before the life left their eyes, their bodies rigidly collapsing to the ground the moment the blade passed through them.
This was the very first time.
It was the first time Lefiya had ever so vividly witnessed her comrades dying right in front of her.
They weren't dying of exhaustion in a grueling battle against monsters, nor were they tragically perishing in the devious traps of the deep floors.
They were being slaughtered in droves by a "person."
Her pupils violently contracted as her mind went entirely blank. She stood rooted to the spot, entirely paralyzed, feeling as though the sounds of the entire world were fading away.
What shattered her spirit even further was that the executioner carrying out this massacre wore a face she was incredibly familiar with—a face she even harbored a faint, budding affection for deep in her heart.
Terror, fury, sorrow, utter confusion... Countless negative emotions burst through the dam of Lefiya's mind like a catastrophic flood.
Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her teeth chattering with a sickening click.
Finally, all of those emotions coalesced into two of the most primal urges—hatred and unadulterated rage.
"AAAAAAAH!"
A blood-curdling shriek tore its way out of the depths of Lefiya's throat.
Her azure eyes were webbed with broken blood vessels. Raising her twin staves, she began chanting with reckless abandon.
"Unleashed bow of light, stave of the sacred tree, I am the master of the bow. Snipe, fairy archer. Pierce, absolute striking arrow!"
Arcs Ray!
It was a single-target, anti-personnel magic boasting automatic tracking properties.
Even in the grips of this extreme terror, rage, and hatred, Lefiya managed to maintain the very last shred of her rationality as a mage.
Rather than choosing a wide-area annihilation spell that required a longer chant and risked friendly fire, she opted for this highly concentrated, incredibly fast single-target magic.
A golden arrow of light, condensed from the entirety of her wrath, took form at the tip of her staff. With an ear-piercing screech as it tore through the air, it shot straight toward the impostor currently harvesting lives.
However, against "Aiden," her magic was completely useless.
He didn't even need to use Silentium Eden. A simple crimson slash intercepted the golden arrow in mid-air, instantly shattering it into scattered motes of golden mana.
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