Chapter 145: Forgotten Souls (2)
Dylan was the first to react. His jian flashed like steel lightning through the frozen air, aimed at the specter of the woman with the twisted neck as her diaphanous hand reached for his throat. The blade passed through the translucent form without resistance, as if cutting through icy smoke.
A spectral moan echoed—pained, frustrated—but the entity didn’t retreat. Its ghostly fingers brushed Dylan’s skin. A deathly cold bit into his flesh, leaving a bluish trail.
"Fuck!" His voice was muffled by the suffocating silence.
Maggie yanked the shaft of her weapon, the chain-linked blade following its trajectory with violent momentum as she lunged at the child phantom crawling toward her ankles. The blade passed through the small silhouette without disturbing its vaporous outline. The soul emitted a crystalline, terrifying laugh before redoubling its efforts.
"Your weapons are useless!" Élisa shouted, her voice strained from mental exertion. Sweat poured from her temples despite the ambient cold. "These creatures are intangible—your blades will only pass through them."
She spread her arms, palms turned toward the ravenous specters. A halo of emerald energy, faint yet palpable, burst from her hands. It expanded into a shimmering bubble around them. The souls crashed against the psychic barrier with a hiss of rage. Invisible impacts left luminous cracks in the force field. Élisa grimaced as if struck in the gut.
"The barrier won’t hold!" She clenched her teeth, each word a superhuman effort. "Run... west! I can’t... hold much longer—" She gasped, mentally repelling a wave of entities trying to merge with her shield. "GO! NOW!"
Dylan grabbed Maggie’s arm, snapping her out of her stupor. They charged toward the well, leaping over crumbling stones. The blurred silhouette standing by the well’s edge turned its head toward them—slowly, too slowly—as if time itself resisted its movement. Its eyeless sockets seemed to absorb the light.
"Don’t look at it!" Élisa bellowed, her shield flickering under the concentrated assault. A violet fissure split the air, allowing a ghostly hand to slip through, nearly grazing Maggie’s neck.