25 Shadow Merge
Lia reclined on a queen-sized bed, her raven hair cascading haphazardly around her. Draped in a sheer black gown that revealed her milky white skin with an alluring hint of sensuality, she glistened like a gem.
Her eyes, reminiscent of precious stones, flickered with thoughts of her master. Though she held the role of a personal maid, Lia longed for more than just proximity—she craved to see his face daily.
"I wonder what he's doing?" The question echoed in her mind as she pressed her plump pink lips, furrowing her exquisitely carved brows, creating creases on her otherwise flawless forehead.
The torture of her desire overwhelmed her, prompting an anguished scream before she vanished. In the blink of an eye, Lia reappeared in the throne room, fixating on the vacant seat with a surge of longing. Every passing moment seemed like an eternity after glimpsing her Lord once more, only to have him depart again. A decade held no weight, yet now, each second scorched her skin.
"I want him," she whispered, her voice dissipating into the air. It was an unprecedented sight—a woman of supreme beauty and a distinguished race yearning for a man who had barely ascended to the mortal tier (Ist).
In an instant, her eyes widened as text materialized on her retinas.
[Your extreme devotion to your Lord has resonated with THE MOTHER, granting you the skill: Shadow Merge!]
[Shadow Merge: You will be liberated from the Night Castle's confines for thirty minutes daily, teleporting you to your lord's shadow.]
[A bespoke gift designed for Lia Hecate Athelstone. Prerequisite: Your tier will be suppressed to the Esteemed Tier (Tier 3).]
"Do not invoke my mother's name—I have long renounced it," Lia snapped, her furrowed brows and icy tone reflecting her disdain.
[Your name is inscribed in her blood, and THE MOTHER solely acknowledges this name.]
Frustrated by the system's brusque replies, Lia seethed. "Ahh! I detest that woman!" Her eyes blazed with red flames, emanating an intense aura that caused the room's candles to flicker.
"Lia, hurry. His life is in peril," a gentle, motherly voice resonated within Lia's consciousness. In an instant, her emotions shifted from seething hatred and anger to unimaginable worry and fear.
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With a resounding crash, Cristian tumbled a considerable distance, having thwarted the fire wolf's surprise attack, yet landing in a precarious position.
"Damn it!" he cursed as he noticed Sheila's faltering form. The intricate diagram faded as Sheila finally depleted the last traces of her mana, collapsing to the ground.
A deafening howl pierced the air, causing the wolves to echo the cry. As Cristian turned, he witnessed the Dark Lord undergoing a grotesque transformation. Muscles bulged, clothes shredded, and a bestial transformation ensued, accompanied by ominous growls. Bones snapped, his features contorted, and he metamorphosed into a full-fledged lycanthrope, its terrifying roars shaking the surroundings.
The lycan bolted forward with incredible speed, its menacing red eyes fixed on Sheila, while Cristian braced for the impending attack. Swinging his sword with unskilled yet determined movements, he forced the fire wolf to retreat.
Flames spewed from its mouth toward Cristian, the intense heat sending tingles across his skin, but he was resolute in damaging the persistent beast. Meanwhile, the lycan's attention remained fixed on Sheila, driven by a primal urge to tear her apart—the source of its vexation.
Sheila's vision blurred, watching Cristian's reckless charge toward the flames. Desperately raising her hands, she realized she was utterly drained of mana, rendering her powerless. Helplessly, she witnessed Cristian hurtling toward the inferno.
But just before he reached it, he leaped, stretching his hands, and seized the lycan's arm—a creature Sheila laid eyes upon for the first time. Simultaneously, his blade sliced open a deep gash on the fire wolf's back, eliciting a pained whimper from the beast.
A thunderous impact reverberated as both Cristian and the Lycan crashed to the ground, grappling fiercely. Cristian's eyes blazed with green flames as he invoked the Eyes of Truth and Mind, but instead of clarity, his mind became clouded by a relentless mantra screaming, 'KILL!'—a maddening assault on his senses.
Struggling against the chaotic thoughts, Cristian ceased the glowing effect of his eyes, creating a momentary separation between man and beast. He reached for Burning Fury several meters away, but the Dark Lord swiftly lunged, clawing at Cristian's sturdy abdomen, staining his once-white attire with dark, ominous blood.
Driven by agony and unrestrained rage, Cristian clenched his fists, delivering a powerful blow that sent the Dark Lord crashing to the ground. Grunting with exertion, he dragged himself toward his sword, feeling a resurgence of strength coursing through his weary body, but neglecting the vengeful wolf lurking nearby.
Erupting from the inferno, a towering two-meter-tall fire wolf capitalized on Cristian's weakened state, unleashing its colossal jaws upon him.
"Ahh!" His anguished cry, tinged with volcanic fury, pierced the night as the fire wolf sank its razor-sharp fangs into his shoulder, penetrating deeply, nearly grazing his bones. "You've sealed your fate," Cristian's voice took on a demonic edge, freezing the wolf in terror, but it was too late.
The Dark Lord's grin faded as his prized wolf, severed from the warrior, staggered away, its flames dwindling into feebleness, accompanied by plaintive whimpers. An internal clash between opposing forces raged within the beast, but the might of Decay eclipsed its inferior flames—an affinity beyond classification, beyond the reach of paragons.
"Firestorm!" The Dark Lord's howl pierced the air as the supposedly fallen warrior rose, swiftly beheading the beast. Flames danced in the backdrop, illuminating Cristian's exhausted countenance, his green eyes fixed on the decaying creature. Decay claimed its due, consuming its vanquished prey.
[Congratulations Cristian/Vladimir Athelstone for slaying a rare beast! Strength +5, Agility +5, Stamina +5]
[Level 16 reached, gaining two free stat points...]
[Level 17 reached, gaining two free stat points...]
[Level 18 reached, gaining two free stat points...]
[Level 19 reached, gaining two free stat points...]
"AHH!... MEDUSA!" The Dark Lord's shriek echoed, a manifestation of deranged madness. His eyes gleamed with lunacy, for Medusa was the lone wolf to have evolved in over a decade!
As his cry echoed, an icy chill swept the battlefield, dousing the flames, and a haunting hiss emanated from the forest's depths.
[A/N: Don't forget to vote comment and drop a review!]
