Chapter 380: Trust
Time slammed into me with the force of a raging dragon, the stars winking out and letting the demons’ assault fall upon us. Spells exploded in every corner of the courtyard in a devastating display of raw magical power, but Adaptive Resistance absorbed it all. I barely even noticed as Korra broke the only attack capable of threatening us–the fireball launched by Gayron–with Discordant Strike.
Instead, I dropped to one knee, hacking violently as blood surged up my throat. Every fiber of my soul burned with overexertion, the stress of forcing a vision on top of bearing the weight of the shard’s mana. My vision grew dark and fuzzy as my lungs refused to take in oxygen, but the moment passed and I managed to swallow a shallow breath of air.
The following breaths came easier, and within a couple of seconds, my complexion lost some of its ashen color. The violent shockwaves and lights of the spells faded into the background as I finally cleared my lungs with a final bloody cough and dragged a sleeve across my mouth, wiping the thick trickle of red from my lips.
"Xiviyah, what happened? Did a spell get through?" Korra asked worriedly. She stood protectively in front of me, a water dragon curling around both of her forearms, not daring to take her eyes off the demons before us.
For their part, the demons encircled us like prowling wolves, many pacing recklessly on their clawed feet. A large blade demon crouched atop a roof made a high-pitched humming noise, scraping his two hand-like blades together like scissors waiting to cut. The silence prolonged until a twenty-foot-tall curse demon began to cast a spell, intending to bind our souls with a curse.
"That’s enough," Luke said, waving his hand in front of himself. The shadows clinging to the courtyard evaporated like summer dew, and the demons hesitated, glancing between him and us in uncertainty.
"Enough? They still live!" Gayron snarled, preparing another sixth-level technique. He paused after a second though, sensing Luke’s glare, and turned to face the Apostle of Curses. "Did that filthblood’s spell charm you or something? When will you stop stalling and kill them already? Don’t forget our mission!"
"Xiviyah," Luke said, ignoring him. "In the name of the Emperor of Curses, I recognize your right as the Oracle of Eternity and permit you and your companions to leave this city in peace."
Gayron’s jaw dropped, a look of abject surprise overtaking his features. The rest of the evolved demons looked equally shocked, though their expressions were much harder to read on account of their infernal forms.