Chapter 118: The Tales of Cinder [12]
The flame generated powerful waves of hot wind, forcing the group to stand up once more. The air burned on contact, as if thousands of invisible embers brushed against their skin, drying their sweat in seconds and leaving a rough sensation in their throats.
That mysterious wind shifted direction the next moment, drawing the ash toward the flame. The dust, which had once floated aimlessly, began to spin in increasingly defined spirals, forming a dense vortex that crackled softly as it compressed. The sound was low, but constant, as if something were being crushed at its center.
The dust gathered in the middle, reforming the spectral figure of the princess.
Now she was smaller—around three meters tall instead of ten. Even so, her presence didn’t diminish; on the contrary, it became denser, more oppressive, as if all her power had been compressed into a more perfect form. She was freed from her chains, yet retained the same ashen appearance as before. There was only one small difference.
She floated above the ground as her body took on a more defined shape. The ash particles compressed with unnatural precision, aligning as if obeying an absolute will. Her feet touched the ground softly afterward, making no sound, and the hands that once covered her eyes slowly drifted to the sides of her back, like wings folding.
Her flaming hair crackled with a soft but constant sound, illuminating her figure with orange and reddish flickers. Her gleaming crimson crystal swords, as sharp as they were beautiful, reflected the firelight in irregular patterns. Her gray skin, marked by those glowing cracks of fire, seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting slightly.
Beneath her feet, the ash crystallized instantly, and beautiful gray flowers grew from the cracks in the ground. The flowers, made of translucent crystal, emitted a faint glow. Their petals opened slowly, producing a delicate chime as they brushed against each other.
Crystal petals fluttered around her, spinning with elegance, as if drawn by her presence.
Amid all of that, she raised both swords high and summoned two more in the hands that had been freed. The air vibrated when they appeared, as if space itself had been cut open to shape them.
Her eyes, once closed, opened—revealing they were completely golden, weeping active magma. The tears ran slowly down her cheeks, leaving a glowing trail that evaporated before falling.
’No... impossible.’
Mitsuki took a step back. The sound of his boot against the ground echoed louder than usual in that tense silence.
’A second phase... she...?’
He looked at Azel and Marco. Both were horrified by what they were witnessing. Their faces were tense, their eyes wide open. And Monar, though he couldn’t see it, could feel the sinister presence of the princess in the air—a pressure that tightened around his chest.
That’s how he realized she hadn’t died seconds ago.
And worse still, that presence held ten times more power than before.
"This isn’t right. It’s not fair..." Monar muttered, clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his skin without him even noticing.
The demon behind him laughed endlessly. Its laughter was deep, twisted, echoing inside Monar’s mind like an unending reverberation. It knew. It knew this would happen and said nothing. But what could be expected from a primordial demon? There was a reason its predecessor had been cast out of Paradise.
"Falsehood has become your sin," the princess said. Her voice was no longer a broken echo, but clear, firm... undeniable.
She drove one of her swords into the ground and raised her palm. The gesture was slow, deliberate, as if marking the beginning of something inevitable.
"And I will become your executioner."
The ground began to tremble violently. The vibrations climbed up the group’s legs, shaking their bodies. Weakened, Azel lost his balance and fell to the side, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Monar pressed his palms against the floor to steady himself, feeling the cracks beneath his fingers, while Mitsuki and Marco struggled to stay upright.
A second later, the walls began to move, as if they were sinking into the ground—but that wasn’t it. In reality, it was the platform they stood on that was rising toward the massive hole in the ceiling. Fragments of stone broke off and fell into the void as the structure groaned.
Ahead of them, the princess stared and spoke.
"This is how it ends..."
The platform stopped with a deafening crash, destroying the surrounding castle—a portion of it now lay in what had once been the backyard, while another stood beside broken marble and brick walls. Remnants of shattered columns and statues were scattered like memories of something once majestic.
Gray crystal spread wildly across the surroundings, expanding into irregular, sharp, gleaming shapes, transforming the ruined platform into a kind of battle arena. Some surfaces reflected the flames, distorting the images of everyone present.
In the distance, ash beasts lurking among the ruins and shadows watched the strange event. Their eyes glowed faintly in the darkness. They remained there, timidly observing from their hiding places, afraid of what stood at the center.
Mitsuki gripped his shotgun desperately. His fingers were stiff, almost numb. He looked in every possible direction, but found no escape. Only ruins, crystal... and death.
Then, the system screen and his tattoo displayed a message.
[ The system has been updated. ]
[ Do you want to view the patch notes? ]
’Now’s not the time for that!’
The system seemed to understand and moved straight to what mattered.
[ Enemy Analysis. ]
[ Name: Guinevere Cinderella, the Warrior Princess.
Level: ???
Stats: ???
Rank: SSS ]
The information appeared as a HUD before Mitsuki’s eyes, the letters glowing with a cold intensity.
Unfortunately, before he could react, the princess was already walking toward them. Her bloodlust was palpable, like constant pressure against the skin.
Nervous, Mitsuki raised his shotgun and fired. The blast echoed through the air, but the princess sliced the bullet in half with her sword as if it were nothing. The impact sparked briefly before vanishing.
She flicked her blade elegantly and kept moving. Her steps quickened, each one faster than the last.
A blood arrow, smaller than the previous ones, flew toward her, leaving a dark trail in the air—but the princess cut it cleanly in half with a single smooth motion.
Marco let out a battle cry and charged. He struck the princess with his sword, but she blocked it effortlessly with one of her blades. Then, in the blink of an eye, she spun and kicked him with brutal force, sending him flying into the crystal.
The crash echoed throughout the entire realm, multiplying in waves.
Marco lay shattered among the crystal, surrounded by fragments reflecting his broken form.
With nothing else to do, Azel fired the last arrow he had. The string vibrated weakly as he released it. But then he felt something strange in his abdomen—a cold sensation, followed by emptiness.
Looking down, he saw a hole... and behind him, embedded in the ground, was one of the crystal swords.
The princess stood with her hand extended. Clearly, she had thrown the weapon. Azel collapsed face-first, his strength gone.
Mitsuki witnessed it, stepping back as she approached him. His breathing became erratic.
’No—! You can’t! No...’
He heard Monar’s voice and turned toward him. The elf was just as broken as the others. He looked exhausted, his aura fading.
He truly could no longer endure the demonic magic for much longer. He could no longer strengthen his friends.
"I’m sorry..."
His voice was soft, sorrowful.
"I’m really sorry, Mitsuki."
He looked into his eyes... Mitsuki could see it clearly.
"It was a pleasure fighting by your side."
[ The skill "Premonition Lv. 1" has activated. ]
Sensing danger, Mitsuki turned and raised his sword instinctively. His reflexes moved before his mind could.
He met the princess’s crystal blade. The clash sent him flying into the castle columns.
His bones shattered, his muscles tore, and his desperate consciousness went dark in an instant, sinking into absolute silence.
Now, on his knees, Marco lowered his gaze. His breathing was heavy, uneven.
The princess stood before him and raised her sword.
"I thought I would live longer... You know, because I’m an elf. I never imagined I’d meet my end alongside my friends..."
He closed his eyes and accepted his fate. For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
But a groan of agony interrupted it. It was Marco, dragging himself across the ground. His fingers left marks in the ash.
With his last strength, he struck the specter’s foot twice... and then looked up at her.
"You damn bitch..."
The princess sighed... a soft, almost disappointed sound.
Her sword fell...
The crystal pierced through Marco, pinning him to the ground. Blood slowly spread beneath him, mixing with the ash into a dark, dull shade.
The sound of impact lingered in the air for a moment, as if the world itself refused to move forward.