Chapter 219 : Chapter 219
Chapter : 219
The moment Lewen swallowed the capsule, the air twisted.
An instinctive whisper screamed that something utterly horrific—something that should never happen—was unfolding.
《That lunatic!》
Albedo’s horrified cry rang clearly in Theo’s ears.
He could not help but agree.
After everything they had gone through to finally remove the curse—he chose to take it again?
There was no other way to describe it. It was madness.
Theo threw aside his staff and rushed toward him.
“Senior! Senior!!”
He called out desperately, but Lewen stood frozen, unable to hear anything, gasping for breath.
《This is dangerous.》
“I know!”
There were only two possible outcomes now.
Either he would endure the curse…
or be consumed by it.
And if it was the latter—
That would be the worst possible scenario.
“Iris Viden!”
Morodin’s furious shout echoed distantly in Theo’s ears.
Iris herself seemed to be in shock, staring blankly at Lewen as he collapsed.
Even someone like her—who always planned several steps ahead—could not have predicted this.
“Kuh… huff…!”
“Lewen…”
Iris murmured, stunned.
The emotion Theo felt as he watched her was cold, seething anger.
“When you tortured him with your own hands, where was that reaction? And now you look surprised to see him suffer?”
The sarcasm slipped out before he could stop himself.
He knew it would change nothing—yet the emotions surging inside him could not be contained.
“If it were me—”
Before Iris could approach, Lucian stepped in front of them, now fully conscious.
The Holy Sword struck the ground, and his sharp hostility once again turned toward Iris.
“I will subdue her like this.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Thanks to Zephyros.”
Perhaps she had realized time had been reversed—
Iris’s fighting style had changed.
Unlike before, when she aimed for instant death, she now inflicted small wounds, steadily piling on damage.
It was relentless. Almost suffocatingly persistent.
Though at the moment, she seemed too distracted by Lewen’s condition to press her assault fully.
“Stop being a nuisance and get out of my way, Hero.”
Her sharp warning cut through the air.
“He is my son.”
“I will not move. And I will not let you pass.”
Lucian’s voice was resolute—like when he had declared victory.
Iris, instead of reacting emotionally, merely flexed her fingers and muttered:
“If you will not step aside, then I will remove you myself.”
Her killing intent surged, as if she would attack at any moment.
“Lucian, can you buy me some time?”
“How long?”
“Thirty minutes.”
Not long—but not short, either.
Curses were deeply connected to demonic magic.
Even if it was the Curse of Ouroboros, Theo believed there had to be a way—if he combined his knowledge and demonic principles.
And if there was no way—
Then he would sacrifice even his memories to bring Lewen back.
Lucian looked at him silently for a moment, then lifted the Holy Sword and pointed it at Iris.
“Just trust me.”
“…Thanks, Lucian.”
Thirty minutes.
That was all Theo had.
And within that time—
He would bring him back.
---
---
The absence of two out of ten weighed heavily on the rest.
For Lucian especially, the loss of Theo—the mage who had supported them from the rear—was significant.
He took a slow breath and tightened his grip on the Holy Sword.
Perhaps because Iris was growing impatient, her attacks became even more ferocious.
The moment she stepped forward, Zephyros returned to the battlefield and unleashed a gust of wind.
A horizontal blade of wind struck Iris, forcing her sideways and disrupting her balance.
Seizing the opening, Lucian and Pell attacked simultaneously.
Lucian slashed horizontally from the right, while Pell brought his blade down from above—
Their attacks crossed in front of Iris like a perfect cross.
These two were the most dangerous opponents.
And yet—
Driven by impatience, Iris stepped forward between their blades.
Her skin split, blood scattering—only to evaporate instantly, blocking their path.
Even as she staggered, she pressed forward.
But Lilia and Laurel blocked her once more.
“…How persistent.”
Their attacks came in tandem.
Laurel lunged low, sweeping her foot toward Iris’s abdomen.
Lilia struck from above, aiming for her jaw.
There was no escape.
Avoid one, and the other would land.
So Iris chose to take the hit.
She let Lilia’s fist strike her jaw, tilting her head upward.
The impact snapped her head back, blood filling her mouth.
But that movement allowed her to narrowly avoid Laurel’s kick.
Better to take less damage than more.
She would not go down so easily.
As her upper body bent backward, Iris drove her elbow into Lilia’s leg.
Lilia’s balance broke, her body pitching forward.
‘This is bad!’
Just as Lilia shut her eyes—
Laurel grabbed her by the collar and hurled her away.
It was rough, but Lilia landed safely, as though accustomed to it.
Without hesitation, Laurel threw a punch at Iris’s face.
THUD!
The second blow struck cleanly.
For a brief moment, Iris’s vision went white.
“…Tch.”
Under normal circumstances, such an attack would not even faze her.
But now—
Her diminishing stamina was dragging her down.
Her mind felt as though it might go blank from the pressure.
Even now, Lewen was dying second by second.
As Iris forced herself forward, Laurel gritted her teeth.
“Just fall already!”
Her kick struck Iris’s head with a brutal impact.
Yet—
Iris merely staggered.
Still standing.
“…This is ridiculous.”
Laurel swung again, desperate—
But Iris caught her arm.
“If anyone should be saying that, it is me, child.”
She slammed Laurel’s head downward.
“Guh!”
“…What a thick skull.”
Muttering, Iris forced a drop of her own blood into Laurel’s mouth.
Then she threw her toward Lilia.
“You had better deal with that quickly.”
“Damn it!”
Just incapacitating two of them had taken this much effort.
No wonder they were upperclassmen of the Academy.
As Iris stepped forward—
Cecilia’s rapier struck.
A single, precise thrust.
But Iris anticipated it, raising her arm to block.
Thud.
The blade pierced her arm.
She prepared to snap it—
—but the ground shook beneath her feet.
“…Touching someone’s junior… How rude, Lady of Gold.”
Paralysis poison?
Not enough to be decisive—just enough to create an opening.
And someone seized it.
Hartaine’s greatsword came crashing down.
He struck the ground, creating a heavy shockwave, then charged as Iris staggered.
BOOM!
Their shoulders collided.
He tried to overpower her—
but she caught the blade with her hand.
As she prepared to break it—
Pell moved.
From afar, twin lances of holy light struck her wrist, disrupting her motion.
That momentary imbalance was enough.
Hartaine withdrew.
…How much time had passed?
The thought gnawed at her.
For the first time—
Iris felt as though she was running out of time.
“You will not step aside quietly, will you?”
“Of course not, heretic.”
Hartaine’s hostility was sharp.
Naturally—negotiating with a heretic was the gravest sin for an Inquisitor.
Iris blinked slowly.
She had subdued them one by one—but only briefly.
The Hero… the Magic Girls… they were already returning.
Unless she killed them outright, they would keep rising like cockroaches.
“…Instant kills will not work.”
Even if she tried again, “time” itself would interfere.
“…How troublesome.”
Her last resort—the capsule—had been swallowed by her son.
Now it had become her weakness.
She could not advance.
They would not let her.
…Was this how those she cornered had felt?
Should she give up?
Offer her neck willingly?
It felt as though the coiled serpent within her was asking.
Her answer—
“Of course not.”
Stopping here?
Absurd.
Iris Viden was a creature of obsession.
If she were the type to stop when blocked, she would never have begun.
Resolve burned in her eyes once more.
And then—
Someone stepped forward.
“Iris… noona.”
That quiet voice—
felt strangely nostalgic.
“…And what brings a traitor here, acting so shamelessly?”
“We started this story.”
“So we have come to finish it ourselves.”