I Can Purify Corruption Through Intimacy in the Apocalypse

On the other side of the plaza, Ava caught the signal and allowed herself a small smile before turning back toward the group.

“We’ll start now.”

For the first time, Thane slipped naturally into the role of an expedition leader. His posture straightened slightly, voice firm and grounded as he issued instructions.

“Alright, Kira, take point,” the half-dwarf said, his gaze moving across the enemy formation. “Lady Ava, stay right behind him. If possible, try to draw the shorter one toward the left or right. I’ll move to the opposite direction with Isolde and Sylphie and keep the beastkin occupied. That should give Lucien a clear opening to reach the elf.”

“Got it.”

Kira answered immediately. Tightening his grip around the hilt of his bastard sword, he stepped out of the alley and into the open plaza.

The instant he did, movement rippled through the group of Hollowed.

“They're all standing up,” Sylphie whispered, tightening her grip on her staff.

She was right.

The Inferni rose first, lifting the broadsword from his lap in a single smooth motion. Beside him, the beastkin pushed itself upright, its massive frame unfolding to its full height. The elven woman also stood, the crystal atop her staff catching a faint glimmer of the muted morning light.

Ava's attention, however, remained fixed on the fourth member of the group.

Unlike the others, the shorter man never fully stood.

Instead, he settled into a low, unnatural crouch, one knee pressed against the stone while the other leg stretched behind him. His fingertips brushed the ground lightly as though testing it, while the serrated shortswords in his hands angled downward, their tips scraping faintly across the plaza floor.

Ava's eyes narrowed slightly.

“…Looks like he’s about to bolt,” she murmured, a faint grin tugging at her lips as excitement flickered in her crimson eyes. She rolled one shoulder and stepped forward. “Kira, I’ll take point for a bit.”

“Huh?” Kira blinked before glancing toward the crouched Hollow. A moment later, understanding dawned across his face. “Uh, alright.”

Without hesitation, he shifted aside and yielded the lead, trusting her judgment as Ava moved to the front of the formation.

With easy confidence, Ava strode into the plaza, rolling her wrist as she brought her rapier up and pointed it toward the crouching Hollow.

“Come on,” she called, her tone light and teasing. “Show me how fast you are.”

It had been a while since she'd been able to use her bloodline abilities properly.

Ava wasn't the type to seek out battles for the sake of fighting, but that didn't make the past several weeks any less frustrating. Ever since escaping the Hollow Realms, she'd repeatedly found herself in situations where these skills couldn't be used effectively or simply weren't enough to matter. The Hollow Knight had been the most obvious example.

This, at least, felt different.

Maybe this one can help me work some of the rust off.

Her eyes remained fixed on the crouching Hollow.

The way it held itself told her almost everything she needed to know. One knee pressed against the ground, body coiled tightly, muscles loaded like a spring ready to release. It was clearly preparing to launch itself forward in a straight burst of speed.

If she met that charge head-on, even she would get pushed back.

Fortunately, that had never been the plan.

A quiet huff of amusement escaped her.

Thane wanted me to pull him left or right, didn't he? I can do that much.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when the Hollow moved.

CRACK!

Stone shattered beneath its feet as the creature launched itself forward with explosive force, sending chips of rock skittering across the plaza.

At the same instant, Ava focused on a patch of shadow several meters away. She didn't truly see the destination so much as feel it—a place where she already existed in her mind, waiting to step into it. Darkness rippled around her boots, and with a soft fwoosh, her figure blurred before dissolving entirely into the surrounding shade.

Shadow Step flowed seamlessly into Shadow Merge.

The shadows welcomed her like water accepting a drop of ink. Color drained from the world, sound became distant and muted, and the bright stone plaza transformed into a landscape of shifting silhouettes and softened edges where motion and intent stood out more clearly than physical details.

Even within the muted world of shadow, Ava could follow the Hollow's movements clearly enough.

The creature continued charging toward the position she had occupied only moments ago, committing fully to its initial attack without the slightest sign of hesitation.

Ava's grin widened.

Stupid.

As the Hollow closed the final distance, her rapier slipped upward from the darkness in a clean, precise thrust.

“—!”

The Hollow twisted violently in the middle of its charge, trying to redirect itself away from the blade. Unfortunately, the adjustment came too late. Its own speed worked against it, momentum dragging its body off-line as its boots scraped harshly across the stone with a shrill skreeech. For an instant, it looked as though it might lose its footing entirely before managing a rough, stumbling recovery.

By then, Ava had already appeared fully.

Darkness flowed away from her as she reformed several meters to the side, well outside the Hollow's immediate counterattack range. She stood there casually with her rapier resting at her side, looking far more entertained than threatened.

“You might be fast,” she said conversationally, as though they were discussing the weather rather than trying to kill one another, “but you don't account for sudden deviations.”

The Hollow crouched again, its head twitching slightly as it tracked her.

“With that kind of speed, even a tiny mistake becomes fatal, see.” Her smile turned sympathetic. “Though I suppose that's not particularly useful advice anymore. You don't exactly have the capacity to learn from it.”

A soft laugh escaped her before growing into a brighter, genuinely delighted chuckle.

“Don't die just yet. It's been a while since I fought someone in my lane.” She lightly spun her rapier once and settled back into her stance. “I'd like to see how I measure up.”

***

From his position near the alley, Lucien watched the exchange unfold with no small amount of awe.

She really is experienced...

He didn't know exactly how long Ava's race lived, nor how old she actually was, but every movement carried a level of refinement that only came from countless battles and years of practice. There was no wasted motion, uncertainty, and hesitation from them. Even while joking around, she maintained complete control of the fight.

But I probably shouldn't waste time admiring her.

Forcing himself to refocus, Lucien pushed the thought aside and swept his gaze across the battlefield, quickly reassessing the positions of everyone involved.

The Inferni was fully locked onto Kira. Thane and the others were successfully drawing the beastkin’s attention. And the high elf—she was carefully scanning her surroundings, her gaze sweeping over each ally and then briefly toward Lucien’s group, repeating the pattern at intervals.

Let’s hope she doesn’t look back.

Activating Void Cloak, Lucien felt darkness settle around him at once—not draping itself over his body so much as recognizing him and quietly making room for his existence. His presence seemed to blur at the edges, as though the world itself had become slightly uncertain about where he was.

He had about 104 CP. After activation, it dropped to 89—Void Cloak consuming 15 CP upfront and 1 CP per minute to maintain. The effect reduced his visibility by roughly thirty percent, supposedly enough to blur recognition if he stayed careful.

Keeping low, Lucien slipped forward.

Rather than moving in a straight line, he weaved between sightlines, using the angles created by the surrounding buildings and the distraction of the ongoing battle to conceal his approach. His target remained the high elf. If he could get close enough, a single Corruption Strike should end the fight before she had a chance to react.

As he closed the distance, however, something caught his eye.

The staff...

The dark bluish crystal mounted at the tip of the staff seemed to contain faint strands of light swirling within its depths. At first, Lucien assumed it was merely a trick of the morning shadows, but a second glance revealed distinct colors moving within the crystal itself—gold, green, and black threads twisting around one another in slow, deliberate spirals before separating and joining again.

Threads?

He remembered hearing that enchanted staves could attract Threads more efficiently than the body alone, increasing both spell stability and power.

Is that what I'm seeing?

The thought lingered only briefly as Lucien continued advancing. The sounds of battle echoed across the plaza behind him as Kira's bastard sword crashed against the Inferni's broadsword with a ringing clang. None of it seemed to draw the high elf's attention. She remained focused on her allies, apparently unaware of his presence as he closed the distance to six meters, then five.

Lucien's hand drifted toward his weapon.

Suddenly, every thread inside the crystal stopped.

Lucien’s instincts flared instantly.

This is bad—

Before he could react further, the high elf drove the base of her staff into the ground behind her without so much as turning around.

Thump.

The impact wasn't particularly loud, yet it detonated inside Lucien's senses like a burst of lightning. A blinding flash engulfed his vision, washing the world in white as though a flashbang had exploded directly inside his head.

"Ngh—!"

For the briefest moment, he saw nothing at all.

By the time his sight returned, the high elf had already turned to face him.

Her expression remained eerily calm as she held the staff close to her chest, both hands gripping it with practiced precision. Around the dark crystal, strands of golden and obsidian Thread were now clearly visible, weaving around one another in tight spirals before suddenly lashing outward in a single controlled movement.

The threads elongated and hardened into a whip.

Crack!

Lucien immediately threw himself diagonally backward. The attack sliced through the space he'd occupied a fraction of a second earlier, missing him by mere inches as it snapped through the air with enough force to leave a faint afterimage behind.

The reach wasn't excessive—roughly five meters at most—but it was enough to force him completely off his planned approach.

His boots scraped across the stone as he landed in a low recovery step, one hand brushing the ground to stabilize himself while his eyes remained fixed on the elf.

At the same time, movement from the corner of his vision made his stomach sink.

The beastkin had noticed him.

Its massive head turned in his direction, dark eyes locking onto him immediately.

Lucien clicked his tongue under his breath.

I figured this might happen, but... it's still annoying.