Chương 364: The Assassin and the Dragon

Snow fell thicker by the minute, blanketing everything in a white shroud that blurred the edges of the forest. The trees bent beneath the weight of ice, creaking softly as if whispering to one another. From far away came the muffled echoes of battle, distant explosions, screams, the clash of steel, a cruel reminder that time was running out. The group gathered near half-buried ruins, the cold biting through armor and flesh alike, fatigue heavy in every stare. They all knew what waited for them.

The Midnight Lord was still out there, and if they didn't face him now, there wouldn't be another chance. Luke drew in a sharp breath, the icy air burning his lungs. Somewhere in the forest, the Warden Generals thundered after the retreating maids, their roars cutting through the wind. Chaos ruled the battlefield, the kind that devoured reason and mercy alike. One mistake, one death, and the plan would fall apart. These were the strongest survivors of the tutorial; if one went down, the rest would follow.

"This is your plan?" Erza asked, her voice steady but edged with disbelief.

"Yes." Luke didn't hesitate.

"And before you say it, I know. There's no honor in it. It's cheating."

"It's downright dirty," she replied, lifting her gaze to meet his.

"But better dirty than dead." Her hand brushed the bracelet on her wrist. A metallic click echoed as it activated, and a black scythe materialized from thin air. Its handle was carved from the darkwood of the capital's forests, and the blade, an opaque, cold alloy, caught the faint reflection of the snow.

"Looks like I'll have to give everything I've got just to try killing that bastard," she muttered, testing the weapon's balance. The wind swept through the ruins, carrying the smell of smoke and fresh blood. None of them spoke. They all understood what that silence meant: it was time. Anne adjusted her grip on her weapon—a massive blade shaped like half of a giant pair of shears, its blue sheen glinting against the snowlight. In her other hand, she held a slender wand, its tip pulsing faintly with magic.

Without a word, she broke into a sprint toward the distant roar. Charlie followed close behind, her tattered cloak snapping in the wind like a torn banner. Across the clearing, Evangeline, Mason, and Jack caught the tail end of the exchange. A single look was enough to tell them everything.

"You stay on support," Mason told Luke, not waiting for agreement. The group scattered through the forest. Shadows twisted between the trees, and the snow crunched under their boots. The air was so cold it felt like every breath might splinter. Allison led the charge along the main trail. Undead burst from the frozen ground, only to be cut down by her precise strikes. Each fallen corpse rose again, not as an enemy, but as a monument.

Her Ice Sculptor skill turned the dead into grotesque statues, frozen towers humming with blue energy. Near them, her power grew stronger, a domain born from carnage. Luke sprinted beside her, pulling arrows from his quiver and loosing them in rhythmic precision. The sharp thuds of impact echoed against the giant form emerging from the mist, the Wyvern, the Midnight Lord, its eyes burning like coals. Charlie and Mason flanked from opposite sides.

The Wyvern's chest flared with fiery light as it opened its jaws, unleashing a torrent of flame that tore through the air. Allison countered with a freezing breath, and when the two elements collided, the impact made the air tremble. The ground split beneath them, and a wall of steam rose into the storm. Erza burst through the fog, spinning her scythe in a wide arc. Dark threads whipped out from the blade, wrapping around the wyvern's left leg. Charlie's spectral chain caught the right.

The two of them pulled hard, straining to unbalance the beast—and for a brief, glorious moment, it worked. The dragon roared, thrashing wildly, its fire breath veering off course and setting the forest ablaze. Luke seized the opening and unleashed a rapid volley of arrows. His mana plummeted fast. [Mana Points (MP): 4639/5100] On the far side, Evangeline emerged from the smoke, shadows coiling around her as she sent a wave of black mist toward the creature's face.

[Predator's Mark activated] Luke raised his hand, the air rippling around him. Blood seeped from his pores, mingling with mana until it coalesced into a pulsing arrow. [Mana Points (MP): 3639/5100] The Acid Blood Arrow shrieked through the air and struck the wyvern square in the face. A burst of viridian light followed, spreading a corrosive mist that began eating through its scales. The creature's next roar split the air like thunder.

"What the hell are you doing, human? You'll burn through all your mana!" hissed Franky, the small serpent coiled beneath his cloak. Luke sprinted between the trees, pulling vials from the necklace at his chest.

"That's what potions are for." He downed seven in quick succession, the bitter taste burning his throat. Each one restored 150 MP, but his body could only absorb up to 1, 000 before reaching its limit. After that, no potions of mana, health, or any kind would take effect until the cooldown of twenty to thirty minutes passed. Drinking them now was pure strategy. [Mana Points (MP): 4639/5100] Only six left. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The Midnight Lord staggered within the green haze, its scales melting away. Erza leapt again, body fluid as water—some skill clearly triggered. Anne darted along the beast's flank, landing sharp, precise strikes. Allison spun her katana, summoning icicles that rained down one after another, shattering across the wyvern's hide. Luke checked his mana bar, mind already crunching numbers. I need at least four thousand to kill the Midnight King… and five hundred more for the Demon Predator's Hands. Six potions left.

That means I can only burn about nine hundred mana here, no more. Enough to handle the Midnight Lord and still have something left for the Witch. He clicked his tongue.

"Having low mana sucks."

'If you hadn't dumped everything into vitality, you wouldn't be whining now.' Artemis replied dryly in his head. Oh, now you're judging me?

'Of course. If you die, who else am I supposed to judge?' Luke snorted, lining up his aim again. Another series of arrows flew, their impacts blending into the wyvern's screams, the explosions of magic, and the endless whisper of falling snow. The ground shook under the monster's weight. Each beat of its wings sent a blast of snow and ash into the air. Its roar made the entire forest vibrate. Allison dropped to one knee, pressing a hand against the ground.

Frost spread outward in a serpentine pattern, a thin blue line racing beneath the snow straight toward the beast's legs. When the wyvern took another step, the earth erupted in a forest of crystal. Spears of ice impaled it from below, lifting the massive body for a fleeting instant before it spread its wings and hurled itself skyward. Snow scattered in circles as the shockwave rippled through the air. High above, its chest began to glow—molten red, pulsing like a heart ready to burst.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Jack yelled.

"Improvising!" Luke shouted back, weaving through the trees. He slung his bow over his shoulder and drew his kukris. The wyvern's outline burned against the clouds, a shadow wreathed in fire. It dove in a blazing arc, slamming into the ground before the stone bridge. Luke moved in from the flank—swift, silent, almost one with the snow. Charlie charged head-on, her sword held like a lance.

Both of them knew the timing: the wyvern had just unleashed its fire, which meant that for a few precious seconds, it would be vulnerable. He activated his stealth skill, and the enchantment woven into his armor shimmered faintly before fading into a ghostly hue. Sliding under the beast's massive body, Luke drove his short blades deep into its burning flesh, striking again and again with mechanical precision, like a relentless insect tearing through armor. From the front, Charlie's blade found the creature's neck.

One of her hands ignited with energy, and when she struck, the impact cracked through the air like distant thunder. Her sword pierced through the wyvern's snout, black blood spilling over the snow in a steaming torrent. Luke didn't stop stabbing. Every blow made the beast convulse, wings thrashing, claws digging furrows in the ice. Then its chest began to glow again. The heat surged so fast the air rippled. Luke rolled free from beneath the monster an instant before the flames erupted.

Erza and Anne sprinted forward side by side. As the fire roared toward them, Anne raised her wand and a golden barrier bloomed into existence. The torrent of fire slammed against the barrier, protecting them, and scattered into a thousand dying sparks that drifted through the air. Erza spun her scythe and drove it into the creature's flank, the blade screeching against scales. Watching her, Luke remembered—Anne's class. Healer. That's how she'd conjured a shield strong enough to block dragonfire.

He pulled back into the trees, crouching behind a trunk. A ray of green light shot through the smoke and hit him; it was healing magic, and warmth spread through his chest. Jack.

"Can you do what Anne just did?" Luke asked, still tracking the wyvern through the haze.

"Walk up to a dragon's mouth and block its breath? Not a damn chance," Jack panted. The Midnight Lord roared and took to the skies. The entire forest shuddered under the gale of its wings. Trees bent and splintered, branches snapping like bones. Then, from the shadows beneath it, long, black arms burst upward—dozens of them—wrapping around its legs and torn wings, holding it midair. Evangeline stood among the ruins, her eyes glowing through a haze of violet mist. Her epic skill in full bloom.

The wyvern thrashed and roared, fighting the bindings. Erza seized the opening. She spread her fingers, and threads of spectral silk shot from her hands, coiling around the creature's body in intricate loops.

"Now!" Evangeline shouted. The entire team surged forward. Luke fired a volley of arrows straight into the monster's face. Allison swung her katana, releasing waves of ice that exploded across its scales. Mason charged from the side, his flaming sword tearing new cracks through the armor of flesh and bone. Charlie rose into the air, then dropped like a meteor, driving her blade into the creature's snout before hammering down with Steel Fist. Each blow made the ground quake.

Luke let loose five more arrows, every one burning through his mana reserves. The wyvern thrashed violently, ripping free of the shadow arms and surging upward into the storm. Its chest glowed once more—the fire building to critical mass. The next blast fell like a living wall of flame. Jack raised his trembling wand, and a translucent dome flared to life around them. The inferno slammed into it, spreading outward in waves, but cracks began to spiderweb across the barrier's surface.

"I'll blow out the fire!" Allison shouted. She drew a deep, trembling breath. The moment the dome shattered, her freezing breath slammed into the torrent of flame suspended in the air. For an instant the two forces canceled, and the sky split with a blinding white flash. Then the wyvern dove like a missile. Allison took the full brunt of it. Luke was thrown clear, smashing into branches as his bow slipped from his hands. He rolled in the snow, coughing, and ripped a healing potion from his pouch.

The beast hunted like a wild animal, ripping trees free by the roots as it streaked past. He flung himself behind a thick trunk, lungs burning. The wyvern passed so close the air seemed to vanish. And then something inside him shifted. A strange, cold calm settled over him, as if the danger itself were just part of him. A spark lit in the back of his mind. A call—an instinct to hunt.

"Franky…" he whispered.

"What is it?" the small snake coiled beneath his cloak hissed, voice tight against his skin. Even weakened, the Beast Lord did not flee. It kept its promise—to fight at Luke's side until the end.

"You said you wanted to help me, right? Even if you're small?"

"Yes," came the quiet reply. Luke opened the familiar interface. [Corrosive Venom (Ultra-Rare)]: The Jormungandr releases a controlled venomous fluid from its fangs, capable of coating a target without corroding it immediately. The venom, thick and adhesive in texture, clings to the surface for a few moments before triggering its corrosive effect.

"Coat the tip of my arrow in venom," he said.