Chapter 137 ‒ The Twilight Blade
Chapter 137 ‒ The Twilight Blade
The sky trembled beneath Zephryn’s wings, each beat like the drum of an approaching storm. She soared above Myrrak, feathers shimmering like moonlit waves, her eyes narrowed into twin daggers of focus.
Below, Myrrak coiled and twisted, his serpentine form half-hidden in a roiling green mist. His forked tongue flicked at the air, tasting the tension as his claws dripped venom onto the cracked ground.
Zephryn’s voice rang across the battlefield, low and sharp as a blade’s edge. “Look at you, Myrrak. A Primordial beast crawling behind a mortal’s schemes… How shameful.”
Myrrak laughed, a hollow, slithering sound that echoed in the mist. “Shame? Oh, dear Zephryn… you’ve improved. Those [Wind Cutter] strikes almost sing now.”
Zephryn’s wings flared. In a sudden blur, she darted forward, air splitting apart in gleaming crescents — [Wind Cutter]. The attacks sliced into Myrrak’s mist, forcing him to reveal his true shape for an instant.
She hovered, breathing steady, her talons flexing. “Abandon that wizard. There is still time to reclaim your dignity. A Primordial beast has no place serving mortals!”
Myrrak tilted his head, smirking as poison slid from his claws. “Are you seriously trying to talk me down? You’ve forgotten something important — talking people into doing things is my specialty. And my other specialty…” He paused, his grin spreading wider, eyes glinting. “Ambush.”
With a sudden lurch, he vanished, melting into a swirl of [Poison Mist].
---
At the edge of the battlefield, King Wing swung his sword with mechanical precision, slicing ghosts into drifting ash. His teeth ground together, sweat pooling beneath his armour.
A sudden shape darted from the mist — Myrrak, fangs gleaming as he lunged for King Wing’s throat.
Before the strike could land, a blur slammed into place. Steel clashed against claws. Tyler stood firm, both swords locked against Myrrak’s blow.
King Wing’s eyes flared with outrage. “How dare a bug like you think I need protection?!”
Tyler shoved Myrrak back, panting. “Shut up and stay alive, you idiot!”
A burst of flame exploded nearby, and Nellisa stepped forward, cloak flaring around her like a living inferno. Her lips twisted into a sharp smirk. “Oh? So proud, aren’t we, King Wing? How does it feel getting stabbed from behind?”
She turned to Tyler, eyes fierce and knowing. “We’ll hold the line. You — get that damned sword and finish this before we all become smoke and dust!”
Tyler met her gaze, his breath ragged. Then he nodded sharply and turned, vanishing into the chaos.
Tyler’s muscles screamed as he pushed forward, ghosts surging at him from all sides.
[Activated Skill: Dash]
The world stretched into streaks of grey and blue as he barrelled through the enemy line. His swords flashed, ghostly bodies erupting in clouds of cold light.
[Activated Skill: Firestorm]
Flames burst from beneath his boots, coiling upward and devouring the ghosts in a writhing cyclone. Ash swirled in the air like black snow, and Tyler broke through, eyes locked on the shimmering glow of the ritual circle ahead.
Yandeon stood at its centre, his ragged robes whipping in the hurricane of raw energy spiralling around him. His face contorted in pain and ecstasy, veins bulging, eyes bloodshot and glazed.
Tyler lunged forward — but a sudden barrier of translucent violet energy snapped into place. He slammed against it, bouncing backward and crashing to the ground.
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Yandeon cackled, arms shaking as he forced his hands into complicated shapes. “HAHAHA! You think you can waltz right up to me? Fool! This incantation… requires every shred of my focus and energy — that is why I cannot move from this circle! But even in this weakened state, you cannot touch me!”
From his outstretched fingers, thin streaks of corrupted energy lashed toward Tyler — not as powerful as before, but fast and venomous. Tyler twisted, rolling beneath one beam and slicing through another with his swords. Each close pass seared the air, leaving arcs of black lightning.
Ghosts swarmed in, shrieking as they closed the gap. Tyler snarled, eyes narrowing.
[Activated Skill: Ink Cloud]
A dense black fog exploded from him, swallowing the entire front line. Shadows warped and bent within it, ghosts slashing blindly.
[Activated Skill: Screech]
[Activated Skill: Spider Web]
A deafening cry thundered through the mist, cracking ghostly forms, and sending ripples up Yandeon’s protective barrier. The wizard, now bound by the spider silk, faltered, his chant stuttering.
Tyler surged forward, each step like a falling hammer. He leaped, both swords braced — and crashed through the barrier. Shards of violet energy flared and dissolved as he hit the inner circle.
With a roar, he sprinted forward and grabbed the hilt of the ice sword.
Frost burned up his arm, slicing into his veins like frozen hooks. He almost screamed, but his fingers locked around the hilt tighter.
Yandeon shrieked. “NO! YOU DARE?! Do you think you’ve won? I can use any soul! If this one fails, I’ll simply gather more, weak or strong — I’ll devour them all until I rise above gods!”
Tyler staggered backward, eyes wild. His breath rattled, his knees buckled as more ghosts clawed at him, pushing him from all directions.
He clenched the sword, feeling its cold fury gather in his core. In one desperate swing, he cleaved three ghosts in half. The blade erupted in a crystalline shimmer — [Freeze Core] triggered.
Ghosts near the blade instantly froze, their cries cutting short as they shattered into falling shards of ice.
Tyler pivoted, swung again — four more ghosts turned into brittle statues and crumbled in a silver explosion.
Suddenly, a massive ghost wielding a blunt iron mace lunged from the side. Tyler turned too late.
The heavy blow crashed into his guard, forcing him to parry with the ice sword. A jarring shock tore up his arm, the frozen steel vibrating in his hand.
Then — a voice exploded from the sword, shrill and thunderous.
[How dare you swing me around like that?!]
Tyler’s eyes flew wide, his head whipping toward the blade. But ghosts rushed again — he ignored the voice, stepping forward, blade low. He swung in a wide arc, cleaving through another dozen ghosts as if slicing through smoke.
The sword trembled again, this time its tone dizzy and indignant. [Do you even know what you’re swinging around, you graceless meat puppet?!]
Tyler’s lips curled into a feral grin, breath fogging in the cold air. “Yes… I do.”
He lifted the sword, letting moonlight shimmer across the frosted blade.
“Infernal Warden of the Underworld… Shindeon.”
The blade pulsed, as though it had taken in a long, staggered breath. Silence rang out between each pulse — a primal quiet, vibrating with ancient menace and indignation.
Tyler didn’t wait. He lunged forward, the blade trailing a ribbon of frost and spectral ash. Ghosts surged at him in another wave — he crashed into them, blade arcing through the mass, each strike releasing a booming burst of frozen mist.
With each swing, frozen shards exploded outward, piercing through ghosts beyond his reach. Tyler pivoted again, his boots crunching over splintered ice and spectral remains.
---
Around him, the battle roared on. Nellisa hurled fireballs until her sleeves smouldered, her voice cracking as she screamed incantations. Vitamin Ape swung his hammer, lightning rippling across his arms and crackling through lines of ghosts. King Wing, half-slumped and bleeding, dragged himself upright and thrust his blade again and again, eyes sharp despite the fatigue.
Further up, Zephryn clashed with Myrrak in a whirlwind of feathers and venom. Each strike between them thundered through the air, echoing like mountain avalanches.
Tyler barely heard them — his focus locked onto the rhythm of the blade in his hands, each swing echoing with a hungry, ancient pulse.
A final ghost lunged at him, skeletal jaws wide. Tyler twisted, driving the sword upward in a vicious vertical slice that froze the creature mid-scream. The statue crumbled into icy fragments before its head even hit the ground.
The sword shuddered, as if laughing through clenched teeth. [Release me immediately, you impudent mortal!]
Tyler scoffed, wiping blood from his visor with the back of his wrist. Why should I?”
The sword vibrated, its frost aura flaring brighter, almost like an approving snarl. [Hey — stop it already! Stop swinging me so wildly!]
Tyler shifted his stance again, gaze narrowing. The final ring of ghosts began to close in once more, a suffocating wall of moonlit phantoms.
Above him, Zephryn shrieked, her wings blazing with moonlight as she dove at Myrrak. The air bent and screamed under the force of her dive. Myrrak hissed, his poison fangs gleaming as he darted to meet her head-on.
Tyler rolled his shoulders, lifting the blade, frost pooling around his boots. Every heartbeat pounded through his skull like war drums.
I can’t stop now… I can’t fall. Not while they’re all still standing with me.
His fingers tightened around the hilt, the blade pulsing, almost as if it too was inhaling before a final charge.
Tyler smirked, breath catching in the frigid air. “Come on, then. Let’s finish this.”
And with one last explosive roar, he dashed forward, sword poised, his silhouette tearing into the moonlit horror like a frozen comet.