The Polar Storm’s aftereffects still swirled in the night wind, shards of ice crystal glittering like stardust under the moonlight.
Nearly the entire front courtyard of the manor had turned into a frozen wasteland. Even the guards who had retreated far from the battlefield were still shivering from the biting cold.
Xing Yue stood amidst the snow, her chest rising and falling slightly, still feeling a lingering thrill.
Across from her, the Fire Shield Gaierte had summoned was already tottering under the erosion of the chill wind. His gray robe was caked with frost, icicles hung from his grizzled beard, and he looked like an old tree frozen solid.
Anyone could see he didn’t have much longer. One more spell from Xing Yue and he would collapse, completely losing combat capability.
Xing Yue didn’t let the exhilaration of battle cloud her judgment. She knew it was about time to stop.
“Wind Spirit, please answer my call.”
“First-order magic, Gust Spell.”
Xing Yue raised her hand, a pale green light dancing at her fingertips—the color of an active elemental spirit.
But just then, the pale green light flickered at her fingertips, like a dying flashlight’s last struggle. Then… it went out.
Xing Yue froze.
She looked down at her hand and tried to move her fingers.
Nothing happened.
“Huh?”
Xing Yue blinked, bewildered.
On the other side, Gaierte was panting heavily. He had already braced himself to take the next attack, holding his Bone Staff horizontally, fire elements swirling around him, ready to unleash a defensive spell at any moment, awaiting the incoming—possibly final—magic.
But the anticipated attack never came.
Gaierte slowly raised his head and looked at Xing Yue in the distance.
That silver-haired girl just stood there stupidly, staring at her own hand, the light on which flickered unsteadily.
Xing Yue tried to chant again.
“Wind Spirit, please answer my call.”
“First-order magic, Gust Spell.”
The pale green light flickered at her fingertips once more, then dimmed.
Nothing happened.
“This is…”
A glint flashed in Gaierte’s cloudy eyes. “Mana exhausted?!”
He didn’t hesitate.
The Bone Staff swung violently, and the Fire Shield instantly exploded into a sky full of sparks, sweeping away the remaining chill!
“Fire Spirit, please answer my call!”
His voice was hoarse but sharp: “Second-order magic, Lava Jet!”
The red light at the staff’s tip began to gather again. This time, it was denser and fiercer than ever before. Crimson flames burst forth from the Bone Staff, coalescing above his head into a burning stream of lava!
Gaierte swung the Bone Staff, flinging it like a fiery cannonball, trailing a scorching tail as it shot toward Xing Yue!
“Tch—!”
Xing Yue’s pupils contracted. She leaped backward instinctively, crossing her arms in front of her.
Boom—!
A blazing fireball exploded. Stones flew, heat waves surged. Xing Yue was thrown to the ground by the shockwave, rolling several times before coming to a halt.
Where she had stood, a deep crater now lay, filled with molten lava.
“Cough, cough, cough—”
Xing Yue lay on the ground, somewhat disheveled, gasping for air.
Her silver hair was disheveled, her black-and-red dress burned with several charred holes, and red burn marks had risen on her exposed arms.
That was close…
Before she could feel relieved, she looked up to find another Fire Arrow already hurtling toward her!
Xing Yue rolled again, narrowly dodging the attack. The Fire Arrow exploded on the ground beside her, and stone chips flew past her cheek, leaving a thin scratch.
She struggled to stand, but her legs gave way.
Oh no!
Xing Yue realized she had bitten off more than she could chew.
Her current state seemed to be Mana exhaustion…
At this point, it wasn’t just that she couldn’t cast magic—her strength was also draining rapidly.
Xing Yue managed to prop herself up on one knee, looking up at Gaierte not far away.
The old mage had stopped attacking.
He stood there, the Bone Staff hanging at his side, a turmoil of extremely complex emotions churning in his cloudy eyes.
Gaierte was also looking at Xing Yue.
This silver-haired girl, who moments ago had been so spirited, beating him to a pulp, was now kneeling on the ground in a sorry state—silver hair disheveled, face smeared with dust and blood—a lamb to the slaughter.
She was so young.
So beautiful.
So… merciful.
Yes, merciful.
Gaierte’s fingers clenched slightly.
He recalled that during the fight, although she had suppressed him the entire time, she had had many opportunities to press her advantage but never followed up. She had dragged the battle into a turn-based stalemate, and she hadn’t used any truly lethal magic from the very start.
It wasn’t like she was toying with him.
It was… she was holding back!
Holding back from beginning to end!
Gaierte was well aware that if she had wanted to defeat him, she could have secured victory long ago.
Perhaps, as she had said from the start, her target all along was only that wicked Baron, and she didn’t want to hurt anyone else.
But such mercy on the battlefield was too fatal.
Gaierte’s gaze passed over Xing Yue and landed on the fat, bound figure behind her.
Jiefulun was still unconscious, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth, completely unaware of what was happening outside.
Gaierte closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He knew what kind of beast Jiefulun had done. Many avengers had come before, but most were blinded by hatred, and in the end, he had granted them the release of death.
Yes.
Death was a release for those avengers.
Gaierte didn’t want to be a ruthless executioner either, but if he chose mercy and let those avengers go, what awaited them would be Jiefulun’s brutal atrocities.
Especially for a young, beautiful girl like Xing Yue…
If she survived and eventually fell into Jiefulun’s hands, her end would only be more miserable…
When he opened his eyes again, only a cold resolve remained in those cloudy orbs.
He raised the Bone Staff.
The red light at the tip glowed again.
“Miss.”
His voice was hoarse, but eerily calm: “I don’t know what grudge you have against Lord Baron, and I don’t want to know.”
“But since you chose to come for revenge, you must be prepared to die.”
“So…”
“Rest in peace.”
Xing Yue’s pupils contracted slightly.
She looked at Gaierte’s aged face, at the fire burning in those cloudy eyes—not anger, not hatred, but something more complex, more weighty.
Forced by circumstance, yet truly wanting to kill her.
Xing Yue gritted her teeth, trying to push herself up from the ground, but her legs wouldn’t obey. The weakness from Mana exhaustion flooded her like a tide, making even standing difficult.
Seeing Gaierte approaching, the fierce red light on his raised Bone Staff growing even brighter, Xing Yue suddenly smiled.
She let out a light sigh, then—with zero startup—she raised her hand and flashed a light directly into his face.
“Watch your eyes!”
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