Chapter 474
The woman’s brow arched, a clear expression of surprise etched on her delicate features. She had seen him, sensed his presence, his gaze piercing the distance. The sight of her, the unexpected encounter, sent a jolt through his demonic form, a strange mix of recognition and raw, primal hunger.
His demonic form, no longer content to stand amidst the ruins of the battle, surged with renewed purpose. The ground beneath his feet, the remnants of the dragon beast’s body, liquified into a grotesque paste of meat and blood, sinking into the ice. He launched himself into the sky, his demonic form propelling him upwards with explosive force, leaving a trail of dark, swirling energy in his wake.
He became a falling star, a crimson comet streaking across the frozen sky, his trajectory fixed on the distant mountain, the woman, and the strange, red wolf. His abandoned sword, lying amidst the wreckage, shuddered, responding to its master’s will. It pulsed with demonic energy, then propelled itself into the air, a dark, gleaming projectile following its owner’s path, a silent promise of violence or maybe something else.
The woman and the wolf exchanged a curious, almost perplexed look as the prince’s form, a fiery descent, drew nearer. The wolf, its red fur slightly ruffled, gave the woman a sidelong glance, a silent accusation.
The woman, noticing the look, tapped the wolf lightly on the head. "This wasn’t my fault," she repeated, her voice calm.
The wolf, rubbing its head, grumbled, "You said watching the ’barbarian’ would be enlightening."
The woman shifted her gaze, a faint trace of annoyance in her eyes. "The demonic scent was...unexpectedly potent. It piqued my interest."
The prince, now almost upon them, brandished his enlarged odachi, the blade engulfed in swirling flames. He swung, the movement a clear, unyielding attempt to bisect the mountain and the woman along with it.
The woman remained seated, her posture unchanged. With a subtle gesture of her hand, a massive ice hand, formed from the mountain itself, rose to intercept the prince’s attack.
The clash of demonic flames and icy construct sent a shockwave through the mountain, a brief, violent eruption of steam and fractured ice. The prince, momentarily thrown off balance, landed heavily on the shattered ice, his demonic form still radiating intense heat. He stood, his gaze fixed on the woman and the wolf, his expression a mixture of surprise and intrigue.
He had expected fear, perhaps even a desperate attempt to flee. Instead, the woman remained seated, her posture composed, her expression a cool, almost clinical observation. The wolf, though its red fur bristled slightly, held its ground, its eyes fixed on the prince with a curious look.