In the midst of the chaos, with Lustria’s cries echoing in his ears, Lassim’s instinct converged into a singular moment of clarity. The realization that his halberd, for all its power and reach, offered him no advantage in this close, desperate struggle against the viper-like falcon.
The beast’s relentless assault, its talons and beak a blur of venom and violence towards Lustria, pushed Lassim to the edge, igniting a fierce determination within him. With a surge of raw, pure anger, he recalled his weapon into his inner heart world, then stepped into the danger rather than away from it.
His hands, illuminated by crackling arcs of lightning, reached for the falcon with a speed borne of desperation and fury.
The contact was immediate and electrifying. Lassim’s grasp locked around the falcon’s scaly neck, the electricity from his hands coursing through its body. His hands and fingers began to bleed as the sharp and scaly feathers cut his hands. The creature writhed and shrieked, its venomous form convulsing under the onslaught of elemental power.
For a moment, the deadly and venomous falcon faltered, its grip on Lustria loosening.
He slammed the viper-like falcon against the ground, shattering it, with cracks spreading from the impact. "Sirium, now!" Lassim roared, his voice cutting through the night, commanding and desperate.
Sirium, who had been circling, waiting for an opening, understood instantly. With a shout of his own, he surged forward, his weapons drawn back for a decisive strike. The blades came down with all the force Sirium could muster, his entire weight on the twin-blades’ edges, aimed precisely at the junction of the viper-falcon’s neck and body near where Lassim’s fingers firmed pressed down.
The execution was flawless. The falcon’s head was severed cleanly, its body going limp in Lassim’s iron grip. The creature’s luminous eyes dimmed, and its once terrifying presence faded into nothing more than a lifeless heap on the forest floor.
Lassim released the creature, stepping back as if waking from a trance. His hands, still tingling with residual lightning and bleeding severely, dropped to his sides. He panted heavily, the adrenaline that had fueled his actions still in full force, leaving no room for relief and exhaustion.
Lustria, freed from the falcon’s deadly embrace was severely injured, slumped to the ground, unmoving. Her face and arms torn and bloodly. Her veins were steeping in a green venom, weaving through her and visible from the outside like a spiderlike web under her skin. Sirium was immediately at her side, assessing her wounds with a mix of concern and determination.
"We need to treat these wounds, now," he said, looking up at Lassim, his voice steady despite the ordeal. "You need to take her back to town immediately!"
"We’ll get you fixed up, Lustria," Lassim promised, his voice a low murmur as he quickly abandoned all other thoughts and picked her up in a princess-style carry.
"My family can heal her at our infirmary in Myriad Spirit City, but I don’t know if she’ll make it that far. Her condition looks bad."
"There was an apothecary in town that I saw. I reckon they have a healing potion that can stabilize her enough for you to take her back to the city for treatment. Go ahead, you’re much faster than I am. I don’t want her to die." Sirium, urgently replied.
"Be careful on the way back." Lassim took off in the fastest sprint he had ever managed in his life so far, but took care to shield Lustria from the excessive movement to not worsen her condition.
As Lassim dashed through the thick underbrush along the river back to town, every second felt like an eternity. The moonlight guided his path, but the shadows seemed to cling to him, as if the forest itself resisted their escape. Lustria’s breathing was shallow, her life hanging by a thread, each labored breath a silent plea for haste.
The apothecary’s shop in town seemed agonizingly far at this moment. Lassim’s legs pumped harder, his own body pushed to its limits. The wind howled past him, and the trees blurred into a dark tunnel that led to salvation or despair.
All the while, his cultivation technique was still active. The rain had long stopped, yet his twin spirits were angry inside. They were angry at their weakness and felt all of Lassim’s pain. The newly awakened and yet truly unborn spirits knew nothing of the world. They only felt the horror and agony that Lassim was currently experiencing from the worry about potentially losing Lustria.
They wished they could be stronger so that Lustria wouldn’t have ever been in this situation. They were seething at the world and themselves for this situation they were thrust into. The lightning cloud overhead was slowly growing larger. It had reached 200 meters in diameter and the lightning was like snakes, weaving through the layers of the dark cloud.
Thunder was softly booming every few steps Lassim took.
Arriving at the edge of town, the apothecary’s sign, a simple potion bottle hanging from a creaky signpost, was in sight. Quickly bursting through the door, Lassim’s sudden entrance startled the apothecary, an old man with wisps of white hair framing his puzzled face.
"Help me, please! She’s been poisoned by a viper-like falcon and is dying. I’ll pay whatever you want, but please do you have anything that can stabilize her? I can get her proper treatment in Myriad Spirit City but she won’t last that long!" Lassim’s voice was frantic, his arms cradling Lustria as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
The apothecary, wide-eyed at the severity of the situation, hurried over. "Lay her down here," he instructed, gesturing to a makeshift cot on the counter. With practiced hands, he examined Lustria’s wounds, his brow furrowing in concern.
"This venom...it’s potent. I have something that might help, but it’s only a stopgap until you can get her proper treatment." The old man shuffled to his shelves, his hands moving with surprising speed as he retrieved a small vial filled with a luminescent liquid.
Returning to Lustria’s side, he uncorked the vial and carefully administered the potion to her lips. "This should slow the venom’s spread and ease her pain," he explained, his voice a mix of hope and caution.
As the potion took effect, a faint bit of color returned to Lustria’s cheeks, and her breathing steadied slightly, but the venom was still thickly coursing through her veins. Lassim let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his gaze fixed on her more peaceful face.
"Thank you. I promise I’ll be back to pay you for your help," he whispered, his gratitude immense.
The apothecary nodded solemnly. "Take her to see a healer immediately. Time is of the essence."
With Lustria now slightly stabilized, Lassim wasted no time. He lifted her gently, stepping back into the night with a renewed determination.
The journey back to Myriad Spirit City was a tumultuous blend of urgency and elemental upheaval. As Lassim dashed across the landscape, his emotions—a turbulent storm of worry for Lustria and anger at his own weakness to protect her from the unexpected assault—manifested in the skies above.
The cloud that trailed him grew exponentially, from a mere 200 meters to a vast expanse of 1 kilometer over the course of the hour long journey, its dark underbelly roiling with ferocious thunder. Lightning, no longer mere serpentine flashes playfully swimming among the clouds but now terrifying dragons of pure elemental and violent energy, tore across the heavens, a mirror to his inner turmoil.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
Approaching the city gates, the normally stoic and unflappable guards were taken aback by the sight. The once-clear night sky now played host to a supernatural storm, centered on a single figure racing towards them with a severely injured companion in his arms. Their initial hesitation, fueled by the fear of unleashing whatever wrath the storm harbored upon the city, barred the gates to him.
Reaching the guards, he was met with raised spears and wary eyes. The guards, sturdy and imposing, stood firm, their expressions a mix of caution and concern as they eyed the swirling tempest above.
"I need to get through! She needs immediate help!" Lassim shouted, his voice raw with urgency, gesturing his chin to Lustria in his arms.
"Stand down! Stop and announce yourself! Your storm is a threat to the city! Disengage your technique now!" The lead guard, a towering man whose presence commanded respect, stepped forward. His voice carried the weight of authority, and the subtle release of his own elemental power, earth-based from the looks of it, added a threatening undertone to his words.
"What!? I can’t! She’ll die if I don’t get her help right now!" Lassim’s desperation was palpable, but his lack of willingness to control the storm only served to heighten the guards’ apprehension. It was actually fully under his control, but how could he explain that with his emotions running wild?
"Protocol dictates that no one is allowed entry in such a volatile state. Calm your storm, or we must consider you a threat to the city’s safety," another guard chimed in, his stance defensive yet ready to act. Their collective elemental pressures, a mix of fire and earth, bore down on Lassim, trying to douse his seemingly erratic situation and the storm it called.
The demand was ludicrous to Lassim. The very idea of halting the tempest, an extension of his raging emotions and stopping his very cultivation technique that empowered him to move faster than mortals, seemed impossible in the moment. His anger boiled over, his shout resonating with the thunder above, "I am trying to save her life!
Do you want her death on your hands because of protocol?" His voice was intertwined with the roar of the thunders, almost as if the thunder was amplifying and resonating with his shouts.
The standoff intensified, the guards’ resolve stiffening against Lassim’s pleas. The charged air between them crackled with the tension of impending conflict, the city gates a battleground of wills.
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Inside the grandeur of the Rohese estate, the head butler, a man of impeccable posture and unshakeable demeanor, hastened to Frederyc and Elisa’s chambers. Without ceremony, he disturbed the couple’s rest, urgency clear in his tone. "Master, Mistress, your grandson causes a stir at the city gates. The situation... it’s quite unusual."
Frederyc and Elisa, roused from sleep, extended their spirit senses towards the city gates. The chaotic energy, a maelstrom centered around their grandson, painted a clear picture of distress and danger. Without a word, they exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them, and in an instant, they vanished from their room.
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Just then, a disturbance in the elemental energies of the area shifted the tense atmosphere. The distinct presence of two powerful figures manifested, their arrival silent but their fury felt by all.
Fredryc and Elisa Rohese appeared in a blink, their expressions stern. Without a word, they assessed the situation, their disappointment in the guards clear.
"Enough," Frederyc’s voice cut through the tension. "He is our grandson. Stand down." With a gesture, the storm above reluctantly began to dissipate, his strength overpowering Lassim’s elements evident and awe-inspiring.
Elisa moved to Lassim’s side, her gaze softening as she looked at Lustria. "Bring her. Quickly now." Her voice, though gentle, carried an authority that brooked no argument.
The guards, recognizing their superiors, high nobles within the city’s upper echelon, immediately lowered their weapons and stepped aside, murmurs of apologies and respect filling the air.
Frederyc, with a nod to the head butler who had followed them, commanded, "See to the guards. Ensure there are no repercussions from this incident."
As the Rohese family vanished with Lassim and Lustria in tow, teleporting directly to the Rohese family infirmary, the head butler turned to the guards, his demeanor one of calm assurance. "Let’s calm the city. There’s nothing to fear now. Our family will handle this."