Chapter 391: The Beginning Of The End



"Are you insane? What are you even saying?"

"Watch, Zephyr," Helena interrupted him.

Zephyr turned towards Night Terror. Annette stood in front of the monster, with Ellis too, who did the talking.

He said:

"Sir Night Terror, I know you have been busy protecting me. And this guy really pissed you off. But please, can you let go of your grudge and protect all of us today?" He bowed.

Night Terror let out a low growl and exhaled almost like a sigh.

Ellis raised his head in joy and smiled heartily.

"Thank you so much, Sir Night Terror."

Annette turned her head to Helena and nodded.

"There... you have it."

Zephyr was still looking towards the monster, his expression puzzled at what just happened.

'It really is a monster that understands communication.'

The realization made him want to fight Night Terror more. Moreover, the monster had grown tremendously since their last fight; he wanted to brawl all the way.

But Helena was right. He raised his head.

'I guess surviving comes first.' Then he looked at her. "Drop your damned barrier."

In that instance, the sky above them gave another ominous groan.

The crack had widened to a gaping maw, and through it, they could now clearly see the writhing forms of countless monstrosities.

Night Terror's attention was drawn upward, his four eyes widening in what could only be described as recognition.

He let out a series of low, guttural sounds, his body tensing as if preparing for battle.

Zephyr, following Night Terror's gaze, cursed under his breath. "I've seen rifts before, but nothing like this. What's causing it?"

Helena stepped forward, her staff still thrumming with energy as she maintained the barrier.

"We are not entirely sure, but we think something or someone is forcing rifts open and intentionally collapsing a certain barrier."

"What? That makes no sense! You can't force open a rift!"

Helena shrugged. "Yeah, well, that's what we have, and we only have this information thanks to the Saintess' premonition."

Zephyr glanced at Helena and stared at the monsters.

Annette dashed towards it, flames propelling her legs. She collided into the monster again and began to batter its form, her fist clothed by searing hot flames that burned even her own

skin.

The serpentine creature managed to move despite her turbulent onslaught. Its multiple heads struck out in different directions, making it nearly impossible to approach.

One of Gilbert's men, a burly warrior wielding a massive axe, managed to sever one of the heads, only for two more to grow in its place.

The battlefield was chaos incarnate. The sky, once a comforting expanse of blue, now churned with darkness as more monstrosities poured through the widening rift.

The air filled with the cacophony of battle cries, monstrous roars, and the clash of steel

against otherworldly flesh.

Zephyr's crimson scarf danced through the air like a living thing, lashing out at airborne

creatures and pulling them to the ground where they could be dispatched.

His eyes blazed with an intensity that matched the ferocity of his attacks.

Each movement was precise, honed by years of combat, yet there was a wildness to his strikes

that spoke of desperation.

Night Terror moved like a living shadow, his form constantly shifting and reforming as he engaged multiple enemies at once.

His four eyes glowed with an eerie light, and wherever his darkness touched, monsters withered and crumbled.

Yet even the powerful entity seemed to be straining against the endless tide of horrors.

Helena stood at the center of the maelstrom, her staff a blur of motion as she spun and lashed

out attacks at her opponents.

Black bolts arced from her rod, slamming into creatures and leaving smoldering craters in their wake. Sweat poured down her face, her teeth gritted in concentration. Annette, still locked in combat with the hydra-like serpent, managed to glance upward at the

swirling vortex above them.

Her flames had scorched large swaths of the creature's scales, but for every injury she

inflicted, it seemed to grow stronger and more enraged.

Gilbert, his armor dented and splattered with ichor from a dozen different beasts, fought his

way to Zephyr's side. "We need to get into the rift, find its guardian, and close it from

within."

Zephyr's eyes narrowed as he considered the proposal.

It was risky, borderline suicidal. So much was pouring out of the rift; how much more was inside, waiting their turn to fly out? But they were rapidly running out of options.