" SERAPHINE! "
The shout of goblin number one snapped Seraphine out of her spiral of memories.
At first, she was stunned by the situation. Her mind was in a mess. It took her a moment to separate reality from fiction.
The unexpected influx of memories in the middle of the battle came as quite a shock to her. A fresh image of a golden-haired woman, her face hidden behind a curtain of darkness, still lingered in her mind.
The fleeting thought of the picnic was enough to make her heart squeeze with a sense of indescribable grief mixed with tormenting guilt and longing.
" SERAPHINE! MOVE! "
Under the relentless pressure of The Night Terror, Goblin Number One's shield broke in two. The gray creature heroically defended the two women behind him. It was his duty to Ramiel. He couldn't defy the man's orders even if he wanted to.
Although he didn't like it, he would give his life for them if necessary.
So far, everything was heading in that direction.
" Fuck! "
The Night Terror was ruthless in his actions. When he noticed how the shield, the quality of which left much to be desired, split in two, he sent two quick slashes in its direction.
The gray creature tried desperately to save his hand.
Hype
His short sword outlined a horizontal line, parrying one of the tails. However, with the other, he wasn't so lucky. It hit the remains of the shield, knocking the gray creature's limb upward.
The goblin's teeth gnashed in pain. The veins on its forehead came to the surface, and its muscles bunched up to the limit.
The pain from the torn muscle, which originated in its left shoulder, radiated throughout the rest of its body. The sudden stimulus paralyzed the creature's nervous system for a split second.
Crackle
Crackle
The distinctive sound of cracking bones echoed in the goblin's ears, accompanied by a dull kind of pain. He felt his forearm literally break in four places at once.
The contents of his stomach rose to his throat. An unpleasant aftertaste of a half-digested dinner settled in his mouth.
For a brief moment, his eyes were shrouded by a curtain of darkness, which also affected the creature's senses. The only thing he felt was a throbbing pain that blew his head from the inside out.
The Night Terror couldn't have dreamed up a better opportunity. In his mind, he thanked the big cat who was responsible for the successful hunt.
His secretive prayers had finally come true. He could solve three problems at once.
The gray creature's suffering face, twisted into a painful grimace, made the monster's heart leap with joy. It was responsible for his failure.
The annoying insect disturbed him just as he was about to decapitate the walking pile of bones. Like an uninvited guest, it jumped out of the shadows between Seraphine and his beautiful tails, blocking the perfectly aimed cut.
Fortunately, this was the last of the creature's heroic deeds. Without mana, it didn't pose the slightest challenge to the undisputed predator in the Forest of Night Ripples.
The mana gathered under the paws of The Night Terror, forming two spikes. Both of them were aimed at the heart of the out of balance goblin.
The sense responsible for detecting mana in the environment alerted one of the last of the Legion of Death, alerting him to the sudden movement of mana within the monster.
At the edge of his field of vision, he noticed the shadow under the cat's muscular paws moving.
Adrenaline bubbled through the goblin's veins in the face of danger. Feeling the grim reaper's gaze fixed on him, he let go of the steering wheel, surrendering it to natural instinct.
His mind worked at an alarming speed, burning neural connections between the gray cells. Within a fraction of a second, he was analyzing hundreds of scenarios... yet he ended up the same way in each one.
Death awaited him, not likely. Sometimes, it was immediate and painless... but more often, he died in agony, being torn to pieces piece by piece.
Losing all hope of survival, he noticed a brief flash of the falling half of the destroyed shield.
The goblin could have sat on the great Nenneke that he had never been so happy.
With a newly kindled flame of enthusiasm warming him from the inside out, he kicked a fragment of the falling shield toward the unsuspecting monster.
The air was filled with the furious roar of The Night Terror. In order to save his beautiful face, he had to disperse the spell by jumping aside.
The unpleasant sound of bending sheet metal reached the ears of the beings on the battlefield. The overgrown tiger showed not the slightest mercy. Its jaws crushed the piece of metal into a fine poppy.
This bought a few necessary seconds for the goblin, thanks to which it regained the necessary balance to continue fighting. Regaining stable ground beneath his feet, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive for now, and that was all that mattered.
But his happiness didn't last forever... looking at it honestly, it didn't last more than three seconds.
As he prepared to fend off the aggressor, another of The Night Terrors jumped out of his shadow.
It was the afla of the current group. Having regained a fraction of his strength, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He could no longer stand by and watch his subordinates behave like idiots.
Around the world, there is a proverb that goes: Hard times make strong people, and times of prosperity make weak and worthless people.
Apparently, years of living without adequate danger have worked against the overgrown tigers. The golden age has dulled their natural instincts and weakened their open-minded strength.
Over the years, they have become arrogant and dismissive of other species. In sum, they were headed for their destruction.
The monster's massive jaws jammed around the goblin's frail limb, tearing it from the rest of its body.
" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! "
A piercing scream escaped from the gray creature's larynx, filled to the brim with panic. A geyser of blood shot out of the fresh wound, painting the surroundings red.
The goblin wriggled on the ground like a screech, clutching at the severed stump.
Its irises were filled with the fear of death, and tears gathered in the corners of its eyes.
The goblin wasn't a cowardly race, but like all living things, it feared death. Faced with the Grim Reaper, courage hid in the darkest corners of the bunker, waiting safely until the crisis was averted.
Tears gathered at the corners of the goblin's eyes as he watched the dangling pieces of flesh. This time he knew he was screwed. There was no way he was going to make it out alive. Faced with certain death, his bladder couldn't stand the strain.
This was a common sight among hunters. The more experienced were used to it. Even the toughest individuals lost their dignity in the final seconds. Even the elite among the elite had their embarrassing moments.
There were only a handful of people who retained a shred of pride until the final seconds... You could count them on the fingers of two hands. And no, they don't include those who received instant death.
A huge shadow fell over the plunging goblin. In his eyes, it grew larger with each passing second. The gray creature's mind was seized by fear.
Its lip trembled uncontrollably, and its teeth banged against each other, making a distinctive sound.
Feeling the gaze of the hungry predator on him, he crawled along the ground toward the motionless Seraphine.
The fingers of his healthy hand dug deep into the ground, dragging his body, paralyzed with fear, behind him. At all costs, it tried to escape.
" Le - Leave me ... I beg - I beg you. "
Somewhere, he had Ramiel's orders... Somewhere he had whether the women would survive... All he wanted was to save his skin.
" Please ... help... "
Hearing the goblin's pathetic wail, Seraphine raised her head. The flames, mimicking her eyes, expressed helplessness. Like the goblin, she didn't have much mana left. At most, enough for one simple spell.
It was far too little to kill the three approaching monsters.
The necromancer was beating her thoughts on what to do. The chances of escape were zero. Even if, by some miracle, she buys enough time, no one will escape from here in one piece.
She couldn't find a solution no matter which side she looked at it from.
Her gaze shifted to Asme, who was holding her stomach. Seeing the horned beauty on the brink of death, a thought popped into her head.
It seemed to be the only rational decision.
' It will be better than letting her fall into their hands... '.
" Ugh... " Seraphine couldn't finish. Her hands went to the area around her head, trying to stop the pain that was driving her crazy.
A simple thought was enough to tighten the chains that bound her soul. She narrowly missed and would have ended up as a pile of worthless bones.
Seraphine went against the slave oath imposed by Ramiel. This was met with immediate punishment. Feeling that, in moments, her soul would be crushed, she abandoned the idea of killing Asme and Caera.
She wanted to spare the women unnecessary pain and suffering, but her actions only brought her more trouble.
When the suffocating pressure inside her chest disappeared, she fell to her knees. Although she didn't possess an ounce of flesh, Seraphine felt a cold sweat pour over her.
Anxiety rose in her heart. She had underestimated the power of the yoke binding her oath. One more wrong move ... and she would be lost forever.
The vision of being completely erased from the records of the universe terrified her even more than becoming the bite of the Night Terror. In fact, she wasn't afraid of the latter.
Seraphine raised her tired eyes. Before her eyes, the outline of a mysterious woman, hidden behind a fog, appeared.
Without knowing why, she felt sick at the sight of her low barracks. She had a strange feeling as if she had forgotten something important... something she shouldn't forget.
A part of her soul trembled with sadness.
The mouth of the mysterious woman moved soundlessly. The gesture meant little, but it was enough to ignite the flame of hope inside the necromancer's heart.
She clenched her fists tighter and rose to her feet. She straightened her back and straightened her form.
Several white strings sprouted from the inside of her hands and spiraled in a tangle with each other. They resembled a pair of snakes joined in a tender embrace, which turned into a short dagger.
The weapon, created by Seraphine, was the most ordinary dagger. It didn't require astronomical amounts of mana. On the contrary, a measly vapor was enough to create it.
If it is to cross the Styx, it will do so on its own terms. She will not beg for mercy from an inferior monster that she would have killed with a passing glance in a previous life.
Unwittingly, the Night Terror's muscles tensed. Despite his overt superiority, he felt a sense of awe toward Seraphine, who was standing opposite him.
The familiar aura of a ruthless ruler awakened a deeply buried instinct of self-preservation in him. If he wanted to end this, he had to be careful.
The heavy and gloomy Atmosphere in the air only reassured him of this. The Night Terror instinctively took a step back, waiting for his two subordinates to join him.
The longer he looked at Seraphine's calm silhouette, the more his fears filled him. The residual aura the woman exuded around him told him to stay away from her.
For a moment, he thought about withdrawing but quickly abandoned the idea.
The vision of admitting defeat to the pack leader made his stomach clench.
Maybe when the losses were minimal in the beginning, he would have avoided harsh punishment ... but now? When he loses 80% of his troops? He could only dream of a painless end.
Even if he brings back the corpses of the invaders, he will not be able to avoid unpleasant consequences. The only thing he can do is to make sure that the punishment is mild.
" Wrr... " With a short growl, he ordered his subordinates to leave the goblin alone.
The overgrown tigers reluctantly walked away from the gray creature, quietly pulling at the corner. The idea of abandoning their new toy didn't appeal to them, but an even worse option was to defy orders.
Having no other choice, they surrounded the lone standing necromancer.
Seraphine moved confidently ahead. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space.
She was surrounded by the subtle scent of death, which was a small fraction of her aura. In her current state, that was all she could afford.
Standing before the Night Terror, her dagger outlined an elongated arc in the air. Contrary to expectations, it was nothing glamorous.
At first glance, dozens of mistakes could be found here. Starting with bad posture, and ending with mindless waving of a piece of bone.
Although it promised to be good, it came out hopeless... Close combat wasn't one of Seraphine's specialties. For centuries, she hadn't manifested the right aptitude for it. Without mana and souls, she was nothing.
The monster felt pathetic. He couldn't believe what he saw. He couldn't fathom how he felt respect for such a pathetic creature.
Having had enough of playing cat and mouse, in one sweeping motion, he sent the woman's body into the vicinity of the defenseless Asme.
An embarrassed Seraphine bounced off the ground several times.
She had hoped for more...
Unfortunately, life isn't a manga where the main character wins through "an unexpected surge of strength, or the power of friendship. " Seraphine found this out the hard way... or in her case, the bones.
With one leap, The Night Terror found himself in front of Asme. It was finally time to unwrap the Christmas gifts he had been waiting for so much.
His powerful pressed the swollen head of the horned beauty to the ground. The moment it excited him to the limit.
In response, only a quiet moan escaped from Asme's bloodied lips. The woman didn't have the strength for anything else.
He could have abused the helpless victim indefinitely, but common sense prevented him from doing so. He had already seen what happened to his subordinates today when they got carried away by their emotions.
Keeping his cool, he increased the pressure exerted.
Just as he was about to turn the head of the horned beauty into a bloody mush, the roar of lightning striking the air pierced the space.
The Night Terror froze in place. His muscles, paralyzed by pure fear, didn't respond to the signals sent by the brain. Every cell in the body intuitively shook in panic, feeling as if death in the flesh had come to visit.
Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming force dent the ground. In a split second, he found himself on solid ground.
Night Terror whimpered like a beaten dog as he heard a cold voice filled with murderous intent.
" Haven't you gone... too far? "