Chapter 80 - Mission Successful18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Vy8e7dY3D
As the beast's massive body crashed onto the icy ground, a thunderous boom that sent tremors through the desolate landscape, Cillian stood atop the carcass, a solitary figure amidst a sea of frozen desolation and crimson-stained snow. His body trembled with bone-deep exhaustion, every muscle screaming in protest. His breath came in ragged gasps, each exhale a plume of white against the frigid air. Blood dripped from a myriad of cuts across his face and body, painting his black attire in macabre shades of red and black. He remained standing only by sheer force of will, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him.
Cillian stood huffing and puffing in the bloodied ice land. With a heavy sigh, Cillian glance down at the watch on his right wrist, a high-tech device that seemed incongruous with his ancient surroundings. The screen flickered to life, displaying a series of statistics, starkly illuminated against the bleak landscape:
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MISSION SUCCESSFUL
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7000 Frostmaws (10ft tall & 300m width)
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DEFEATED IN 3.5 HOURS
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A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he read the report, a fleeting moment of satisfaction quickly replaced by a wave of bone-deep weariness. He closed his eyes, allowing the cold to wash over him, a desperate attempt to numb the pain that wracked his body.
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Then, a voice boomed from above, resonating through the icy wasteland like a thunderclap. It was a voice of immense power and ancient authority, a voice that commanded respect and obedience.
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"Your service has pleased me, son of Minsan. I trust this minor diversion did not unduly tax your considerable skills."
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Cillian bowed his head respectfully, his black hair falling across his bloodied face. The words were not a request but a summons, and he dared not delay.
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"As always, Lord, I remain at your command."
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With that, Cillian turned and began his descent through the icy labyrinth. He visualized the architecture from the 3rd image. The path was treacherous, a winding maze of jagged ice and hidden crevasses, leading towards a distant portal shrouded in shadows. He moved with a practiced grace, his steps sure and steady despite his exhaustion. The weight of his responsibilities pressed down upon him, a constant reminder that his trials were far from over.
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As he reached a lower level, where there were stairs carved into the side of the icy cliff, he spotted two figures waiting for him. They were silhouetted against the dim light emanating from the ice walls, their features obscured.
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"Cillian."
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The voices were familiar, a mix of warmth and authority. It was Roxana, Luxana's mother, her bright orange hair a beacon in the gloom. Beside her stood the man who had forced Cillian into a contract with Minsan, his expression as unreadable as the ancient stone that comprised their surroundings.
Roxana nodded her head, a silent signal for Cillian to follow them. They turned and began to ascend a series of stairs carved into the ice, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.
Following Roxana's silent invitation, Cillian navigated the remaining steps. The passage grew narrower, and the air became heavy with an unnatural stillness, as if all sound was absorbed by the cold, stone walls.
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"The Azones and Alizahs will clash in three days, near Romania's border," Roxana stated, her tone brisk and devoid of warmth. "The recent distortions complicated my connection with you. Confirm: did you mark Luxana as planned?"
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Cillian hesitated, a flicker of something that might have been regret flashing across his face before he masked it. "My apologies, Master. I failed to secure her."
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Roxana's expression tightened, but she quickly regained control. "Adequate. You have seventy-two hours to correct this deficiency, the consequences for failing me are dire. War preparations consume my time. Richard, you will oversee his progress in my stead." She flicked her wrist in acknowledgment to the unreadable figure beside her.
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Her electric blue eyes, so like Luxana’s yet colder, more calculating, drilled into Cillian. "Do not assume my absence permits improvisation. Stay focused on what is required. As a Key, you must've already learned to manipulate the lock."
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Cillian lowered his gaze, his voice carefully neutral. "Indeed, Master."
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“Excellent.” Roxana concluded. "The agreement we made stands. If the Alizahs gain victory, trigger the binding; sacrifice both yourself and Luxana to secure our ultimate triumph."
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Cillian straightened, the fire in his eyes snuffed out, replaced by an expression of dull resignation. “As you command, Master.”
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With a final, curt nod, Roxana turned and disappeared into the depths of the fortress. Cillian was left alone with Richard, the silence broken only by the soft hiss of the glacial wind.
The air in the room hung thick with tension, a palpable force that seemed to press against Luxana's skin. Cillian's grip on her head was unyielding, his fingers tangled in her hair like roots seeking purchase in fertile soil. Their faces were so close that she could count the flecks of gold in his aquamarine eyes, could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across her cheeks. The world had narrowed to this moment, this proximity, as if nothing else existed beyond the space between them.
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Luxana's body responded instinctively to the sudden shift in balance. Her right hand shot out, landing on Cillian's inner thigh, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric of his trousers. Her left hand remained clenched in the bedsheet, knuckles white with the force of her grip. The silk was cool against her palm, a stark contrast to the fire that seemed to burn where she touched Cillian.
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Then, without warning, the world tilted on its axis. Luxana felt herself being yanked from the depths of Cillian's vision, as if she were a fish being reeled in from the darkest depths of the ocean. A violent gasp tore from her lips, her body jerking as if struck by lightning. The sudden shift left her disoriented, her mind reeling as it tried to make sense of what had just happened.
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But there was no time to recover, no moment to catch her breath. Before she could even blink, Cillian's fingers dug into her scalp with a vicious, unrelenting force. The change in him was instantaneous and terrifying. His aquamarine eyes, once reminiscent of calm tropical waters, now bled into a monstrous red, glowing with an unchecked aggression that sent chills down Luxana's spine. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming the man before her into something feral and dangerous.
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A sharp, searing pain erupted through her skull as his nails tore at her scalp. The sensation was so intense, so unexpected, that a strangled cry escaped her throat. It felt as if someone had set her head on fire, each nerve ending screaming in agony. Instinctively, her hands flew to his, fingers wrapping around his wrists in a desperate attempt to pry them away. The skin-on-skin contact was electric, charged with a potent mix of fear and adrenaline.
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But her efforts only seemed to make things worse. Cillian responded by digging deeper, his nails now breaking through skin with a sickening ease. A warm trickle down her forehead made Luxana's stomach churn - blood, her own blood, seeping into her hair and painting macabre patterns on her skin. The coppery scent filled her nostrils, mingling with the scent of fear and sweat that permeated the air. A wave of nausea crashed through her, her body trembling beneath his unrelenting grasp like a leaf in a storm.
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As the pain pulsed through her skull, Luxana's mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. 'This is all because of mana extraction,' she realized, gritting her teeth against the agony. 'Why the hell does he become so aggressive when mana is extracted from him? Others tend to faint or lose consciousness, yet he's completely opposite and ends up killing the other person? This demon boy!'
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The pain was unbearable, like molten iron being poured directly onto her scalp. Her fingers tightened around his hands, her breaths coming in frantic, uneven gasps. The world seemed to narrow, tunnel vision setting in as her body focused all its energy on survival. Through the haze of pain, a thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. 'If extracting mana from him drives him insane, injecting mana should calm him down, right?'
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Luxana didn't hesitate. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she launched herself backward, wrenching out of his grip. The sudden movement sent shockwaves of pain through her skull, but she pushed through it, driven by pure survival instinct. Air rushed into her lungs as she landed hard on the mattress, her body bouncing slightly from the impact. She lay there for a moment, panting heavily, her hands pressing against her pulsating head. The silk sheets beneath her felt cool against her feverish skin, a small comfort in the midst of chaos.
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'How am I supposed to inject mana?' she thought frantically, her mind racing. 'I don't even know how exactly mana is controlled.' But her thoughts were cut short by the sight before her. Cillian, his blood-red eyes filled with nothing but violence, pounced like a predator on its prey.
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In an instant, her body was slammed into the bed, the force of impact knocking the air from her lungs. Cillian's weight pressed her down, pinning her to the mattress with terrifying strength. His fingers, strong and merciless, wrapped around her throat, squeezing with a force that made spots dance in her vision. Luxana's hands flew to his once more, her nails biting into his flesh in desperation. The world began to dim around the edges, panic rising in her chest like a tidal wave.
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'Should I unleash my flames?' she wondered, her thoughts becoming hazy as oxygen deprivation set in. 'No, no, no, it won't do.' Just then, something within her clicked. Her body acted before her mind could catch up, driven by some primal instinct for survival.
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She clenched his hands tighter, willing something—anything—to happen. And then, as if answering her silent plea, it did. A radiant reddish-white glow bloomed from where her hands met his, the light pulsing and flickering like a dying star. It spread across his fingers, his wrists, crawling up his veins like liquid fire. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying, a dance of light and shadow that seemed to defy the laws of nature.
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Slowly, miraculously, the pressure around her throat loosened. The suffocating weight lifted, allowing precious air to rush into her lungs. Luxana gasped, drinking in the oxygen as if it were the sweetest nectar. As the last of the glow faded, Cillian came into view, transformed once again.
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His breath was ragged, uneven, but different now—grounded, aware. The crimson in his eyes dulled, fading, retreating until they were once again the aquamarine she recognized. His pupils dilated as confusion flooded his features, replacing the mindless aggression that had possessed him moments before.
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"Huh?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, laden with confusion and dawning horror. His head jerked from side to side, panic settling into his bones as he took in his surroundings. Then his gaze dropped—to where he sat atop Luxana, his hands still loosely circling her throat.
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His entire body stiffened, as if turned to stone. Horror dawned upon his face as realization struck like lightning, the full weight of his actions crashing down upon him. He scrambled back so fast he nearly fell off the bed, his breath hitched, hands trembling violently.
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"I'm—I'm—I'm sorry," he stammered, voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. His body shook as he backed away, curling into himself at the corner of the bed. His arms wrapped around his legs, his face burying into them as violent sobs wracked his body. He hid from her, from what he had done, shame and self-loathing radiating from every pore.
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And throughout it all, Luxana hadn't shed a single tear. She lay there, catching her breath, her mind whirling with questions and revelations. The pain in her scalp throbbed, a constant reminder of what had transpired. But as she watched Cillian break down, she felt something unexpected stir within her—not fear, not anger, but a complex mix of emotions she couldn't quite name.
The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow over the room, bathing the space in a soft, silvery light. Long shadows stretched across the rumpled bedsheets, a silent testament to the violent struggle that had unfolded moments before. The once pristine white sheets were now twisted and tangled, bearing the imprint of bodies locked in conflict.
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Luxana lay there, her chest rising and falling as her breath slowly steadied. Her mind was a maelstrom of questions and revelations, each thought crashing against the next like waves in a storm. The throbbing pain in her scalp served as a constant, pulsing reminder of the encounter. It echoed through her senses like a sinister heartbeat, each throb sending a fresh wave of discomfort through her body.
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Her eyes, still wide with the lingering effects of adrenaline, fixed on Cillian's huddled form. He had retreated to the corner of the bed, his body curled in on itself as if trying to disappear. His shoulders shook with each muffled sob, the sound barely audible but unmistakable in the tense silence of the room.
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As she watched him break down, an unexpected emotion stirred within Luxana. It wasn't fear or anger as one might expect after such a harrowing experience. Instead, it was a complex mix of feelings she couldn't quite name - a cocktail of empathy, amusement, and something darker that lurked beneath the surface.
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The room was eerily quiet, save for the sound of Cillian's stifled cries and the distant, muffled hum of the night outside. The contrast between the peaceful world beyond the window and the chaos within the room was stark and unsettling.
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Then, without warning, a sudden sound broke the tense silence. It started small, almost imperceptible, but grew quickly in volume and intensity.
*PFFT*
*PFFTTT*
The unexpected noises erupted from Luxana, starting as small, stifled sounds before exploding into full-blown laughter. "AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Her voice shattered the somber atmosphere, filling the room with a jarring cacophony of mirth.
Luxana's body convulsed with laughter, her hands clutching at her stomach as she rolled from side to side on the bed. The mattress creaked and shifted under her movements, the sound mingling with her uncontrolled guffaws. Her face, moments ago a mask of shock and pain, was now contorted in an almost manic expression of hilarity.
The abrupt shift in mood was surreal, bordering on the absurd. Here, in a room still charged with the aftermath of violence, Luxana laughed as if she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. Blood still matted her hair, the metallic scent lingering in the air, yet she howled with laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.
To be Continued...
