Chapter 137: Payback 5
What the hell is happening..? The pain was so overwhelming that Damian lost control of several of his spells. The waygate that maintained the wormholes collapsed, and his golem staggered alongside him, nearly falling to its knees. Somehow, Damian managed to preserve the fire pillar, keeping Moondancer at a distance.
Esme attacked Vidalia? Damian's thoughts raced. He had suspected there might be a spy within Vidalia's inner circle, and he had considered Tristan or Aramis as possibilities, but Esme? She had been at the very bottom of his list.
Her kindness should have raised red flags, but after what he'd experienced from Makayla and the instructor maid, both of whom had shown him kindness and complicated his reasoning. But he had allowed himself to trust her worrisome act, believing in the goodness she displayed. He should have known better—there were no such thing as nice people. Just people with different goals.
"My Lady..."
"Commander..."
Both Tristan and Lysandrea rushed toward their fallen leader. The pugilist and Aramis had already changed their target, attacking Esme with a feral scream. Just like him, Vidalia was struggling to maintain control of her spells. Damian could feel the activation of Vidalia's emergency healing ring, but the sword was still lodged deep in her back, likely with some paralyzing effect.
Damian despite being not injured was sharing in her mind numbing pain through their bond. He was closer to Esme than anyone else, yet his body was wracked with inexplicable agony. He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to rush at her—not that it would accomplish much.
The pugilist and Aramis were already engaging Esme, so Damian stayed back, focusing on his spell through the excruciating pain. Somehow, he managed to keep Moondancer at bay as he retreated with his golem. He couldn't fight her alone—not in this state. Thankfully, Moondancer didn't seem interested in him, either, instead rushing to her companion.
Darkness seeped out from beneath Esme's feet, covering her body in a box-like barrier, slightly transparent with small holes for breathing.
"Why..? Why would you do such a thing?"
"We saved you... raised you... made you a worthy warrior..."
Tristan had arrived, and Lysandrea was just behind him. Both attacked the black box, expressing their disbelief and heartbreak. They had been teammates for so long, and this betrayal angered and saddened them beyond words. Damian himself felt like he had been played, and he had only known her for a few days.
But this wasn't the time for questions. Threadripper was growing increasingly aggressive, purple bindings straining and breaking. The paralysis was wearing off—his third-rank body was too resilient for mana poisoning to be effective. Vidalia was struggling to power her spells again, but with so many traps already active and the pain mixing in, controlling multiple mana threads wasn't easy for anyone.
It required tremendous focus, and she was already stretched too thin.
Moondancer, seeing her opportunity, attacked with giant dark spears, trying to reach behind Threadripper while avoiding Vidalia's traps, flying on her winged beast. Damian dismissed all his spells except the fire pillar, using it to keep Moondancer away from Vidalia. However, he suddenly sensed multiple second-rank mana signatures emerging from the still-open shimmering blue waygate.
These newcomers immediately rushed to Threadripper's side, triggering traps and blowing themselves up without knowing what was going on. Some lucky ones survived and began attacking the people attackiing the black box housing Esme, who was smirking smugly inside.
"Why..? Why else?" Esme laughed at them, mocking their efforts. "Ashenvale has better chances of winning, and I will be a duke there once Threadripper helps me ascend to the third rank."
Her taunts stung, but Tristan and Lysandrea and the others were making progress in breaking the barrier. Moondancer, however, kept reinforcing it, using her magic to keep it intact. Damian had the urge to direct his fire pillar at Esme's stupid smirking face, but if he did, Moondancer would surely strike Vidalia, worsening her already critical state.
"You fool... He's deceived many before you with the same promise. No one can help you ascend. The gods are nothing if not fair... There are no shortcuts to greater power," Lysandrea said, pouring her heart and fire spells into the black box, her voice thick with emotion. She blinked back tears, perhaps for Vidalia, who was grunting in pain, blood flowing freely from her wound.
Damian, struggling with the unbearable pain, deactivated his wind spell, focusing solely on the fire pillar. Summoning all his strength, he pulled out another runic roll and threw it on the ground. Fortunately, it spread open as intended. Activating it, he guided the spells toward Vidalia with his mana threads.
This was his "healing special," a scroll containing five advanced healing spells he had secretly acquired from the healers at Vidalia's place.
With painstaking effort, Damian got up and took one step after another, each movement feeling like a blade through his gut. He screamed through the agony but somehow managed to reach near Vidalia. Gritting his teeth, he yanked the sword out of her back in one clean motion. She screamed, blood gushing from the wound, and Damian joined her, howling in shared pain.
He pointed all five healing spells at her, one for her front and four for her back, and activated them simultaneously. Instantly, a sweet warmth spread through his body. Though it was Vidalia being healed, it felt as though he was healing himself. After several seconds, the spells were complete, and Damian collapsed to his knees, utterly spent.
His mana flow from Vidalia had stopped, and just controlling such powerful spells with his meager first-rank mana pool had drained him completely.
He was on the verge of passing out when he felt a gentle, life-filled warmth flow into him through the bond. Opening his eyes, he saw Vidalia kneeling beside him, her hand patting his head with affection. She smiled down at him before turning away with a ferocious expression, her gaze fixed on the still-smirking Esme.
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