Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 630: Lelith

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 630: Lelith

Her sudden intrusion on the battlefield rang across the skirmishes, many halting their spells and weapons as they turned their gazes in a mix of shock, fear, awe, and adoration, for the woman's presence warranted such responses. She wore a white-laced shirt that lightly revealed the fair skin under her sleeves and a long black skirt that fluttered down to her ankles. Her long black hair draped down her back like a cape, and her deep blue eyes resembled icy glass, almost seemingly artificial. They were similar to his, devoid of emotion, carrying nothing, a void that swallowed all in her gaze.

The woman swung her scythe once, a smooth motion that swiped through five nearby Defiant members. They didn't know what had happened until their bodies parted in two. Screams ensued, not the kind that Demon heard many times on the dying in their last moments of anguish, but the cry of a child having a nightmare. Tears overflowed as the cries continued. All scratched at their eyes and writhed, becoming more unstable with every passing second. Something was wrong. This reaction was too unnatural for even those at death's door.

'It was terrifying...she doesn't want to recall it, grabbing her hair.' Avril's words rippled from the depths of his memories. 'The mistress...spreads fear.' The last parts of that memory resounded with Avril's anguished cries, similar to the suffering Defiants. Was it her power? Demon eyed the scythe, noting that it had entered the Meld stage, judging from the Ein layered on it. Briefly, their gazes met, and an ocean of blood surged behind her, a hallucination brought on by her overwhelming Ein and intent directed at him.

'Survival is difficult.' He thought. Several more Exalts followed behind her, powerful ones who far surpassed the fodder that threw themselves at his ship, presumably the trump cards. The Primaere Kerak probably guessed at interference and hid his main forces for the climax, the sneaky bastard. Demon mustered more Ein and poured it into the ship, pointless since it had already reached its full speed. The woman was gaining, culling down several more Defiants who all screamed in ear-piercing cries of agony, some dying before the life-threatening injuries could claim them.

Grade Nine Exolsia was too troublesome. Demon recalled when he first saw Gilbert Lockwood after his awakening in Ashen Grove, the mere presence causing him to never think of attacking that outlandish power head-on. He had considered how it might turn out in ambushes and trickery but discarded the ideas, useless against the might of Grade Nine. Now, one hunted him. Closing his eyes, he pondered, sizing up his chances, the great gale flowing on his back.

The Defiants countered, attacking the retinue of elites behind the woman, their own elites finally joining in. Unbothered by their attacks, the woman stuck on her path, not a step slowed or off by the ambush, none targeting her. More sea snails burst from the ocean, their shells having spikes long enough to impale a man, a more powerful breed. All the elites had been thrown into the chaos, spells thrown from all corners that landed on sturdy defenses, no one sacrificing an inch without taking from the enemy.

"Marcus, Kragg, Santen, divide up and prevent as many of the Defiants and Primal Council Exalts from reaching me. Restel, stay under Kragg's shadow and keep him sane." Demon rose and mounted Erden, who grunted, a grave expression on the old beast. He entered the Guise, a burning horn rising opposite the blue antler. No rational plan held any merit against the encroaching foe, leaving him no choice but to relinquish himself to death's door for a chance.

"I will gladly give my life to buy you time. We will keep that woman occupied for as long as we can." Marcus said, clenching his black dagger. Kragg didn't offer any snide remarks, gazing deeply at the woman. Santen clasped his hands together, a frown deepening, dragging his lips down.

"No. Ignore her. Your deaths won't slow her down at all. As you leave, throw some ranged attacks at her and run past, isolate her to me." Demon figured that with her superior realm and grade, she wouldn't break a sweat against them. "Go now."

"But–" Marcus clenched his teeth.

"I said go!" Demon raised his voice, and they complied, leaping off the ship and splitting off in different directions. Santen raised his hand and chopped down, his powerful attack splitting the ocean. Marcus punched, hurtling a barrage of scales, each thick as armor and sharp as swords. Kragg swiped his claws, lightning slashing across in claw marks. Their trifecta of attacks clashed against her. The ocean erupted and engulfed her in its high waves that rose from Santen's slicing motion, electrified by the lightning claws and scattered by the scales. She stepped out from the mists that formed from the devastation, platinum shards falling from her left cheek. Not a single scratch ruined her perfect skin.

She briefly turned her attention to them, lending her gaze to each one, her emotion still indiscernible on that cold face. Running away, Demon had already kicked the airship at her while they attacked, the core unstable from his activation of the self-destruct command. The core screeched inside the airship, light forcing its way through the gaps between the wooden boards. It exploded with the maddened chorus of thunderous booms, an inferno rising to the sky and burning into the ocean, steam wafting from the surface.

'Ready?' Demon asked.

'A few more!' Ignyres shouted.

He slashed his sword, throwing most of his Eirin into it in a devastating Omnireus concentrated by the Line. Seeing her block the blade with a palm, Demon found it absurd that the strength of a Grade Nine Exolsia was this immense, the gap quite hard for him to comprehend. She stood a realm above him, but he knew his loss was certain even if he was a Greater Marshal Exalt.

"If you struggle, that means there's still a chance for you to feel fear. I wonder what drives you to be so impertinent so I can take it and see your anguish." Lelith reached out her hand, looking dark as the two suns didn't shine toward it. She stopped and turned her head, swiping her hand to block a flurry of incoming arrows of brilliant light.

Demon turned to the untimely savior and saw it was Avila, anger reddening that familiar face, her teeth gnashing in clear sounds of grinding. However, it wasn't alright, not for him. Oscar's soul might break further upon seeing Avril's sister die. He could only wait for Lelith to keep stalling herself. Catching a breather, he witnessed the two women stare at each other.

"Slave?" Lelith tilted her head again. "When did you dye your hair? I didn't allow that."

"I am Avila Venelair, you wench! Mark my words: one day, I will kill you!" Avila nocked her arrow, ready to fire.

"Avila? Avila?" Lelith tapped her chin, deep in thought. "Right. That's not the name. Ah. It was Avril. I remember now. Are you related? If you know where she is, tell her to come back. Her absence is quite rude. I haven't finished her yet. She was so lively when she first came to me." For the first time, perhaps the most unsettling of a smile curled from her lips. Very slight, yet any crack in this woman's expression became more pronounced. "You know, when I get a slave, the first thing I do is get rid of their name. She was fun. Even after many years, she stubbornly remembered her first name. Slave is a perfectly fine name. Ah, I miss the fear she showed me, the glimpses of her village burning and loneliness from separating from her family. Ah, that's where I saw you."

"You...." Avila cried, tears flowing down her cheeks. She fired several more arrows, all easily broken by a casual wave of Lelith's hand.

"If I catch you too, that's a set of sisters. I can only imagine the fear as I place you in the same cell. But–" Lelith retracted her gaze and focused on Demon. "I have a job here first."

"You're too slow." Demon opened his hand, holding a bright flame in his palm. "I'll be the one to kill you."