Chapter 395 Samael [2]

395 Samael [2]

"Annabelle!"

Celeste's voice was thick with worry as she called out. Panic clawed at her chest as she looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Just moments ago, they had been under attack, surrounded by enemies. But then, without warning, their attackers had fled, leaving them in a sudden and eerie silence. It should have been a relief, but instead, it filled Celeste with a growing sense of dread.

She turned to Annabelle, who had been unharmed until now. But something was terribly wrong. Annabelle's skin had turned ashen, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. Her eyes fluttered as she muttered a name, barely audible.

"E–Edward..."

The sound of his name sent a shiver down Celeste's spine. She clenched her blade, her knuckles white. "Amael?!" She called out, her voice tight with fear. "Uncle! Please, take care of Anna!"

"I–I will!" her uncle replied. He moved to Annabelle's side as Celeste took off, driven by a sense of urgency she couldn't explain.

Something was wrong. Deeply, terribly wrong. It was a feeling she couldn't shake, a dark premonition that seemed to gnaw at her very soul. She didn't know why, but she was certain that something dreadful awaited her.

She didn't have to search long. The screams led her straight to it.

The closer she got, the more intense the feeling of doom became. It gnawed at her resolve, whispering that she should turn back, that death awaited her if she continued. But she pushed forward, her determination outweighing the fear.

When she arrived, the sight before her froze her in place.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and death. The ground was slick with gore, littered with the remains of those who had fallen. Blood pooled and splattered across the earth, mingling with broken bones and mangled flesh. Distorted bodies lay strewn about, twisted and broken beyond recognition, their limbs contorted at unnatural angles. Every corpse wore an expression of sheer terror, their last moments of life captured in a gruesome display of horror.

The most horrifying sight of all was the swarm of leeches, their slimy, bloated bodies undulating as they slithered across the blood-soaked ground, drawn to the remains of the fallen. They latched onto the corpses, sucking greedily, devouring flesh and blood with a sickening eagerness.

"GYAAAA!!!!"

"H–HELP! GYAA!!"

"SAVE ME!!!"

The desperate cries for help echoed through the air, pulling Celeste from her shocked stupor. Her gaze lifted slowly, almost unwillingly, as if her mind knew that whatever she was about to see would be worse than anything before.

And then she saw him.

Edward stood amidst the carnage, a nightmarish figure against the backdrop of death. His appearance sent a wave of cold dread through her. His skin was ghostly pale, drained of all color, and his eyes—she couldn't see them. They were hidden beneath the shadows of his brow, leaving only his twisted, unnerving smile visible. It was a smile that didn't belong to the Edward she knew; it was the smile of a man lost to madness.

From his back, a mass of black, writhing tentacles emerged, each one alive with malevolent intent. They lashed out, striking down the remaining men with brutal efficiency. Some of the men attempted to flee, their screams mingling with the squelching sounds of the tentacles, but it was futile. The tentacles moved with unnatural speed, catching up to their victims and dragging them back into the fray.

Celeste stood frozen, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. For what felt like an eternity, she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. She was paralyzed, every instinct in her body screaming at her to run, to get as far away as possible from the horrors before her.

The leeches, the tentacles...?

If she was touched by any of them, she knew she would die. The certainty of it clawed at her mind, but there was something else, something even more terrifying.

It was the scythe in Edward's hand.

There was something deeply, terrifyingly familiar about it. A sense of imminent danger radiated from the weapon, a cold, creeping dread that felt like it was tightening around her heart. It was as if the scythe itself knew her, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something from her darkest nightmares.

Her body radiated with a blinding, pure white light, and her hair transformed to a snowy, ethereal hue. The power of Trinity Nihil infused her with renewed strength and clarity. She swung Trinity Nihil, severing the tentacle that had ensnared her and propelling herself toward Edward.

Four more tentacles erupted from Edward's back, their dark, writhing forms converging on her.

"Lend me your strength," Celeste's voice turned cold and her eyes became sharp.

Trinity Nihil responded to her plea, its blade glowing with an intense, divine light. With both hands gripping the hilt, Celeste brought the sword down in a powerful arc.

An icy wave of divine energy surged forth, spreading out in a crescent of freezing light. It struck the tentacles and Edward with an overwhelming force, encasing them in a solid, pure white ice. For a moment, the dark, sinister aura around Edward was subdued, the ice holding him in a frozen prison.

But the dark energy around Edward surged once more, battling against the icy confines. The ice cracked and shattered as Edward's sinister power broke free. His gaze, once hidden beneath a veil of madness, finally met Celeste's eyes. The twisted smile was gone, replaced by a more profound, unsettling expression.

Celeste's gaze narrowed. She wasn't focusing on Edward himself but on something beyond him, a presence that felt all too familiar and terrifying. Her white eyes, seeing more than just the physical realm, discerned a shadowy figure with a black blindfold and a distorted, malicious smile. This figure had its arms wrapped around Edward's neck.

"I won't let you," she muttered coldly. "Release."

Celeste's whispered command was barely audible over the chaos. As if in response to her will, Trinity Nihil erupted in a blinding flash of white light that surged upwards, piercing the sky. The brilliance of the light was so intense it momentarily overwhelmed everything else in the vicinity.

When the radiant flare subsided, Trinity Nihil had undergone a transformation. The sword's blade had lengthened, its white surface now even more lustrous and ethereal. The hilt was adorned with two delicate white wings that extended outward, their details gleaming with divine energy. The runes inscribed along the blade now glowed with a purer, more intense shade of white, enhancing the sword's celestial appearance.

Celeste, feeling the sword's newfound power thrumming through her, maneuvered deftly behind Edward. With a strong grip on the hilt, she swung Trinity Nihil towards the base of the tentacles. The blade cut through the source of the nightmare, severing the tendrils with precise efficiency.

In an instant, the tentacles and their base disintegrated into particles of white sand, scattered by the wind. Edward, now devoid of the grotesque appendages that had controlled him, fell to his knees. He was like a puppet whose strings had been cut, collapsing under the weight of his release from the dark influence.

"Amael..."

Celeste's face softened, a look of profound relief washing over her features. She let go of Trinity Nihil, which vanished in a shimmer of light, and knelt before Edward. Her eyes were full of concern as she examined his face. His color had returned, and the sinister black veil that had covered his eyes was gone.

"Amael!" She called out, her voice trembling with worry as she gently shook his shoulders.

Edward's head slumped forward, resting weakly against her. His condition was alarming; he was drained and vulnerable.

"I—I will take you to a healer, wait!" Celeste said, trying to rise with him. But then she felt a firm grip on her shoulders. Edward's hand was clutching her with almost an desperate strength, his grip painful but Celeste barely noticed the discomfort; her focus was entirely on him.

"Please..." His voice, though strained and hoarse, carried a deep emotional weight.

"Amael?" Celeste's gaze fell upon him, her eyes searching his face despite the shadows obscuring it. The broken tone in his voice was unlike anything she had ever heard from him before.

"Can I hug you a little...?" Amael's request was so fraught with vulnerability that it left Celeste speechless. She had never seen him so weak, so fragile.

"O–Of course..." She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The moment she gave her consent, Amael wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close with a tight embrace. Celeste felt a rush of warmth flood through her, but as she held him, she realized his body was ice-cold—far colder than it should be.

Sensing his shivering, she hugged him back tightly, trying to convey warmth and comfort. They remained there, kneeling amidst the carnage, wrapped in each other's arms, under the darkening sky. Celeste held Amael, allowing him to cling to her for as long as he needed. As his strength waned and his body began to slide down, she attempted to rise, but his grip on her clothing remained firm despite he fell asleep.

With a lovely smile, Celeste drew Amael's head closer to her chest, her arms cradling him gently. Her heart ached with an unspoken love, and as she looked down at him, her lips parted hesitantly.

"I...I really fell in love with you, Amael."