Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Battle to the Death

Elise was no stranger to battle. She had once challenged the armies of the gray dwarves, faced the assassins of the dark elves, and even engaged in a direct confrontation with a mind flayer. Yet, compared to the clash unfolding before her now, all of those seemed like mere child's play. Though no enemy had yet revealed themselves, and the attacks thus far had consisted only of traps, the screams and explosions echoing in her ears made Elise feel as though she were stepping into the very heart of hell.

Dust billowed before her eyes; hopeless cries rang in her ears; the ground trembled faintly beneath her feet. It was chaos incarnate—a battlefield in its most frenzied form. If not for the calm unique to spellcasters, Elise might have already lost herself entirely, unable to find her way out.

“Hurry up, this way—come this way!” someone shouted.

The distant screams were fading, but no one had the luxury to care. After the latest round of traps, only six or seven survivors remained. Even the tiefling leader was stumbling ahead of Elise, clutching a dagger and casting wary glances about. On the other side, the serpentfolk captain fared little better. Whether from injury or some other cause, his breath was ragged, eyes bloodshot, and his grip on his sword appeared unsteady.

“Captain, are you alright…?” Elise asked softly, glancing at the serpentfolk beside her. Something was clearly wrong, but she couldn't pinpoint the cause. At her question, the captain shook his head like a drunken man, as if trying to clear his mind.

“I don’t know, my lady, this damned—watch out!”

Before he could finish, the serpentfolk captain lunged forward, his twin blades whistling as he struck the dust before them. In that instant, a massive black figure leapt from the cloud—springing like an athlete to avoid the fatal blow, twisting in midair. Its razor-thin tail lashed out at the captain, who managed to contort his supple body backward at a ninety-degree angle, narrowly dodging what should have been a killing strike.

At the same time, the tiefling leader was not idle. Sharp claws tore downward, mercilessly rending the helpless body of a serpentfolk warrior. The monstrous creature gave a guttural roar, but quickly recoiled, scampering up the wall to evade the tiefling's flashing dagger.

“Damnable beast!” The tiefling leader licked his cracked lips, twisted his wrists, and sent a volley of venom-coated daggers flying toward the monster on the wall. The creature reacted instantly, leaping aside the moment the weapons left his hand, evading the attack once more.

Sensing the danger, Elise leapt into action. Deep down, she still feared the depths of the dungeon, but she was no fool—she would not wait for an enemy’s blade at her throat before fighting back. All she could do now was struggle to survive, to cling to life for as long as possible. As for what would happen next—she could only hope for the best.

“Sua…”

Elise stretched out her hand, magical power swirling between slender fingers, twisting and shaping with her gestures into a torrent of formidable energy—ready, at her command, to burst forth like a flood and sweep away all before it.

But before her incantation could be completed, a whip of lightning, swift as a thunderbolt, lashed out at her. At the sight of the elemental force made manifest, Elise’s expression darkened. She thrust out her hands, abandoning her half-spoken spell, and the magic she had been weaving became a blaze of crimson flame, swirling into a shield before her.

The lightning whip struck the fiery barrier with a resounding crash. The roar of fire and thunder echoed through the tunnel, making ears ring. Elise’s slender body staggered backward, blood beading at her lips, her face pale as paper. The assault itself was manageable, but the backlash from forcibly breaking off a spell mid-cast was not to be taken lightly. Only her quick reflexes had saved her, allowing her to transform the spell into a shield. Had it been anyone else, the backlash alone might have been their undoing.

The blast of energy drove everyone back a few steps and scattered the dust. Even the black monstrous creature was forced to leap away from the raging flames. As the haze cleared, the scene snapped into focus: ahead, the huge black beast prowled, while not far behind it stood a young girl in a noble’s gown, lightning crackling at her fingertips—the very one who had attacked Elise.

“Now!” Elise’s eyes gleamed as the creature was forced back. She wasted no time, swiftly making a pulling gesture as if drawing a bow, and began chanting once more.

“Ar…Nai!”

Her fingers flicked, releasing a crimson arrow of fire that shot straight for the advancing monster, striking it squarely. The beast screamed, rolling on the ground as frost spread from the wound, freezing most of its body and slowing its movements.

Yet Elise did not press the attack. Instead, she displayed a speed uncharacteristic for a spellcaster—befitting her half-vampire heritage. With a single bound, she vaulted over the massive creature, racing straight toward the girl in the noble gown. If Elise's instincts were right, this girl was the linchpin of it all—strike the leader, and the chaos might end.

“Demonic flame?!”

Seeing Elise dispatch the monster so easily, Enoia was taken aback, but then a sly smile curled her lips. As Elise charged, Enoia made no move to evade; instead, she raised her right hand, conjuring the lightning whip once more and lashing it out like a viper.

As the whip was about to strike, Elise’s form suddenly blurred and split into four—Mirror Image.

Unperturbed, Enoia twisted her wrist, bringing the whip crashing to the ground. With a thunderous boom, the lightning surged outward, dispersing the illusions like bubbles and tracing the outline of the hidden true body with dancing arcs.

By the time Enoia noticed, Elise was already upon her. Before she could react, the half-vampire’s hand pressed down on her shoulder.

“Sebzl!”

With Elise’s chant, crimson flames roared to life, engulfing her prey.

Victory! Elise could not help but smile with delight at her success.

But her joy was premature.

A pale, delicate hand reached from the flames and struck Elise’s chest. An icy, deathly chill surged into her body like a hammer blow. Elise screamed as she was sent flying like a ragdoll, crashing to the ground.

“My lady!” the tiefling leader cried out in alarm. Elise had moved so fast that he hadn’t been able to follow; in the blink of an eye, she was at the enemy’s side. What happened next unfolded too quickly for even him to act. Only when Elise was hurled away did he charge toward her fallen form.

But before he could reach Elise, he spun around, his daggers weaving a net in the air. There was a sharp ring of clashing steel, and a slender black blade withdrew, blood spraying. The last thing he saw was the mocking smile of a dark elf emerging from the shadows.

Everything… was over.