The moment Stellan finished speaking, the temperature in the room dropped.
It wasn’t a gradual shift—it was as if the air itself had been stolen away, suffocated by the woman’s mere presence.
Then—she moved.
Shirone barely registered what happened next.
One second, Stellan stood firm, sword ready.
The next, he was airborne—his body slammed through the stone wall like a broken doll.
CRACK.
The deafening sound of impact echoed through the forgotten city.
The stone behind Stellan splintered, dust and debris crumbling around him.
Shirone barely had time to turn his head before—
BAM!
The foot into his stomach, folding him in half, the force tilted him up from the ground , and before he could even scream—
THUD!
Shirone crashed in the wooden door.
His vision spun, his bones screaming in protest.
His mind was sluggish, drowning in a haze of pain.
What… just happened?
His lungs refused to expand.
Breathe.
His body wouldn’t move. Get up.
The taste of blood filled his mouth. Blood. His own.
What the hell… was that?
The woman hadn’t even tried.
One kick—just one, and he was already half-dead.
A cough racked his body, shaking him from his daze.
His vision swam, pain stabbing into his ribs with every breath.
His mind scrambled to process, to react, but the sheer speed, the overwhelming force of her attack—it was unlike anything he had ever faced before.
His fingers twitched, weakly scraping against the cold stone beneath him.
Move. Move, damn it.
But his body was betraying him.
From inside the ruined building, a thunderous—
CRASH echoed as Stellan was sent flying through the cracked stone wall, his body smashing against the rubble before crumbling to the ground.
For a brief second, there was only silence.
"Ugh"
Then, a pained groan.
Stellan spat out blood, clutching his ribs.
His vision was unfocused, his breaths labored. But through the haze of agony, one thing was clear—they stood no chance.
She hadn’t even tried to fight them seriously.
Shirone’s heart pounded violently in his chest.
His limbs trembled as he forced himself to his hands and knees, blood dripping from his mouth. What is she?
No. He already knew the answer.
She is not human.
The oppressive weight in the air was suffocating.
Even though she wasn’t actively releasing any killing intent, her sheer presence alone made the air feel thicker, heavier—like the gravity around them had doubled.
Shirone tried to look up, but even that simple action sent fresh pain lancing through his skull.
She was walking toward them.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Like a predator approaching its dying prey.
Shirone’s breath hitched.
His mind raced, his instincts screaming at him to run, to do something—anything.
But what could he do?
What could they do?
His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, but his fingers barely had the strength to hold it.
He was shaking.
Whether it was from exhaustion, pain, or sheer terror, he didn’t know.
He gritted his teeth.
No. No. I refuse to go down like this.
But his body refused to listen.
She finally stopped a few feet away, tilting her head as she gazed down at them.
Her crimson eyes gleamed under the dim light, filled with something almost… amused.
"Hah… pathetic."
Her voice was smooth. Unbothered.
Like she had just stepped on two insects.
Stellan coughed violently, his body convulsing as he tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out beneath him.
He gritted his teeth, his frustration bubbling up in his chest.
Damn it… damn it, damn it!
He wasn’t supposed to be this weak.
He was supposed to be stronger.
He was the President of the Second Years—how could he be this powerless?
Blood dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes as he glared up at her.
But she didn’t even acknowledge his efforts.
Her attention was solely on Shirone.
"Tch. I was planning to take his body."
Her words sent a cold shiver down his spine. Shirone’s fingers twitched, gripping his sword tighter.
His body.
She had wanted to take his body.
The realization made his stomach churn.
"There was something about this boy," she continued. "His body… it’s special. Strong enough to withstand my presence. But now…"
She turned her eyes toward Stellan, her expression darkening.
"Because of you."
Her voice was laced with irritation.
Stellan stiffened. His fists clenched at her words.
Because of him?
Was she saying that if he hadn’t interfered, Shirone would’ve been completely taken over?
His stomach twisted. The thought alone made his blood run cold.
Shirone, his rival, his friend—turned into this creature’s puppet?
His grip on his sword tightened, his nails digging into his palms.
He didn’t care how strong she was. He didn’t care if she could kill them in an instant.
He wouldn’t just sit there and listen to this.
Even if he had no chance of winning—
Even if he was weak—
I won’t let her have her way.
But before he could act, the pressure in the air multiplied.
The very ground beneath them seemed to tremble in response to her growing power.
And then, she raised her hand.
Dark energy coiled around her fingertips, twisting and writhing like living shadows.
The sheer malice emanating from her palm made the world around them feel distant, unreal.
It was suffocating.
Shirone’s breath hitched in his throat. Stellan couldn’t move.
"And now, you will die."
Her words were final. Absolute.
This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.
A chill ran down Stellan’s spine. His mind screamed at him to move, but his body—his damned body—would not obey.
The energy in her palm pulsed, growing darker, sharper.
A suffocating weight pressed down on Shirone’s chest. His fingers trembled.
Is this it?
Is this how I die?
Weak.
Powerless.
Not even able to fight back.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes wild.
He refused to let it end like this.
He refused to die here, in this forsaken place, as nothing more than an ant crushed under someone else’s boot.
But the truth was undeniable.
He was weak.
All of his training, all of his efforts—what were they worth in front of a being like this?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The dark energy in her palm flared.
And then—
CLACK.
A sound cut through the suffocating silence.
The woman’s hand stopped mid-motion.
For the first time since their battle began, her expression shifted.
Her eyes flickered toward the source of the noise.
Stellan’s gaze lifted, his eyes locking onto the figure before him.
The stranger’s piercing emerald green eyes sparkled like polished jewels, framed by a messy tangle of black hair that fell across his forehead.....