Chapter 149: Cosmic World of Rosette
Abel walked calmly atop the endless sea of petals, his stride confident and assured after his recent breakthrough. Around him, a radiant stellar sphere floated, casting a soft, luminous glow that pierced the now-darkened world.
As he continued toward the distant castle, his mind lingered on his tower badge, which had relayed information on Elemental spirits once again. He was shocked that the message could be sent into this pocket world, and he wondered why the tower seemed to need it so much.
Strangely, the petals beneath his feet began to tremble. He paused, sensing something stirring beneath the surface.
Suddenly, with a resounding crash, a group of five crab-like creatures emerged, their grotesque forms adorned with flytrap-like claws and snail-like eyes perched atop moss-covered heads. Flowers sprouted from their legs, giving them an almost surreal, deadly beauty. The creatures locked their many eyes on Abel, their predatory gazes filled with hunger.
Abel’s lips curved into a smile, anticipation dancing in his eyes. He was eager to test his newly acquired abilities.
The crabs lunged at him, their massive claws snapping with lethal intent. Abel stood his ground, murmuring the name of his new rune spell, the words echoing with power: "Cosmic World of Rosette."
Instantly, starry mana surged from beneath his feet, expanding outward with a brilliant intensity. Stellar thorns began to materialize, spiraling into an intricate, cosmic domain around him.
Sharp and radiant thorns formed an ethereal barrier that pulsed with otherworldly energy, a warning towards anything looking to approach Abel.
As the thorns grew, they released a cascade of cosmic petals, each one floating gracefully in the air, surrounding Abel like vigilant sentinels.
The crabs, already mid-attack, found themselves ensnared in this celestial domain. Each movement they made triggered the domain’s retaliation—stellar thorns lashed out, and the petals unleashed a barrage of lethal cosmic energy.
The air was filled with a dazzling display of light and destruction as the crabs were torn apart, their grotesque forms shredded into pieces by the relentless onslaught.
Abel watched in awe as his new ability unfolded, the Cosmic World of Rosette proving to be a formidable weapon and a shield.
The domain was a symphony of beauty and destruction, each thorn and petal a testament to the power of the Rosette Celestial. He marveled at the sheer potency of his starry mana, which seemed to hum with renewed strength.
As the last of the crabs were obliterated, Abel retracted the spell, the cosmic thorns and petals dissolving into the air. The ground was littered with remnants of the creatures—moss-covered legs, shattered claws, and oozing goo.
Abel crouched down, collecting samples of interest, vials of their peculiar fluids, and fragments of their bodies for further study.
Satisfied with his victory and the spoils of his battle, Abel stood and resumed his journey toward the castle.
The looming structure wasn’t far now, and his mind buzzed with the possibilities of what lay ahead. He felt invigorated, his new powers giving him a sense of invincibility. Yet, amidst the excitement, a quiet curiosity lingered in his mind—who or what was the Rosette Celestial?
The mystery only deepened his resolve to uncover more secrets in this strange, enchanting world.
Further ahead, Ike's group stood before the grand gate of the castle, an imposing structure adorned with intricate golden flower patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light.
The gate loomed high, seemingly impenetrable, casting an eerie glow that illuminated the immediate surroundings. Though relieved by the light emanating from the castle, the group couldn’t shake the growing tension.
The darkness that had enveloped their journey left them on edge, each step weighed down by uncertainty.
Veiled Rot cast a wary glance toward the gate, his voice sharp as he urged Mr. Zero, “Hurry up and get this gate open. Whatever’s beneath us, it’s stirring. We can’t afford to wait.”
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Hollow Mask nodded in agreement, his frustration palpable. “The ground’s been shaking for too long. Let’s end this. I’m done with this cursed place.”
Ike chuckled darkly, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Patience, patience. Just a moment more,” he said, his tone dripping with cunning.
He and his sons—Mr. One, Three, and Five—stepped forward, each wielding their respective flags. With practiced precision, they planted the tips of their flags against the gate.
As the flags touched the surface, they began to glow, each one radiating its unique color. The gate responded, the golden flower patterns pulsating with life, as if awakening from a long slumber.
The group watched, anticipation mixed with unease. Suddenly, Mr. Zero turned back toward them, his expression twisting into a mocking sneer. “You really are a naive bunch,” he jeered. “Thank you for your hard work in assisting the Murman family, but this is where we part ways. The true inheritors of the Flower Princess will claim what’s rightfully ours.”
The betrayal hit like a punch to the gut. Ursa, Veiled Rot, and Hollow Mask exchanged furious glances, their anger boiling over. Ursa’s fists clenched, her voice a low growl. “You treacherous bastards…”
Veiled Rot’s eyes narrowed, his gauze-covered form trembling with barely contained rage. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed, his tone venomous.
But before they could act, the Murman family vanished, their forms dissolving into the shimmering gate. The portal closed behind them, leaving the rest stranded.
As if to mock their helplessness, the ground beneath them trembled violently.
From the depths below, four colossal crab-like creatures burst forth, their grotesque forms covered in moss and flowers, each claw resembling deadly flytraps. The air filled with the sound of chittering and snapping as the creatures advanced.
Hollow Mask cursed under his breath. “No time for grudges now. We fight.”
Ursa’s body began to shift, her monstrous werebear form emerging once more, muscles bulging as she prepared for battle.
Veiled Rot’s gauze unraveled, revealing his true, terrifying form, the coppery gas emanating from him thickening the air with a suffocating aura.
Hollow Mask’s body was already enveloped in the dark, pulsating energy from his mask, his form turning into a shadowy figure with a floating mask at its center.
The three stood back-to-back, their powers surging as they prepared to face the monstrous onslaught. The betrayal was still fresh in their minds, they pushed their anger aside, focusing solely on survival. The darkened world around them seemed to echo their fury and determination, the battle ahead promising to be fierce and unforgiving.
…
Abel continued his steady approach, the sounds of battle echoing in the distance. His gait was relaxed, almost indifferent, as if the chaos ahead was of little concern. The clamor grew louder with each step until he finally reached the scene of carnage.
The sight before him was grim. One of the colossal crabs lay lifeless, its moss-covered body sprawled across the petal-laden ground.
Nearby, another scene of horror caught Abel’s eye—Ursa's mutilated form, her body torn apart, limbs scattered like broken branches. The remnants of her were a grim reminder of the ferocity of the battle that had taken place.
Hollow Mask’s dark, shadowy form flickered weakly, barely holding together, while Veiled Rot, now back in his gauze-covered form, leaned heavily against the ruined ground, his breaths labored and shallow. The fatigue etched on their faces spoke volumes—they were at their limits, clinging to the edge of survival.
Both men snapped their heads toward Abel as he approached, their eyes wide with a mix of shock, hope, and desperation.
They couldn’t fathom how he had emerged unscathed, his demeanor calm, his presence radiating formidable power. It was clear he had faced his own battles and triumphed.
Veiled Rot, his voice trembling, called out, “Great lord... great king... you are our savior! Please, help us! We were betrayed... Mr. Zero and his group—they left us to die!”
Hollow Mask’s distorted voice echoed in agreement, the purple light of his mask dimming. “They took the flags... the only way through the gate. We’re trapped here, Blue. Help us—together, we can overcome this.”
Abel’s smile remained serene, almost amused, as he continued forward, his eyes briefly meeting theirs.
The two crabs still standing seemed to sense his power, their movements hesitant, as if wary of engaging him. They knew what he was—something far beyond the strength of those they had already fought.
Veiled Rot and Hollow Mask took this as a sign of hope. Their faces lit up with a glimmer of relief, believing Abel had come to save them.
“You are a hero!” Veiled Rot gasped, his voice cracking with renewed faith.
Abel stopped a few paces away, the serene smile never leaving his face. He reached into his robe, pulling out the red flag, its fabric gleaming ominously under the faint light from the castle. He moved toward the gate, the flag in hand, ignoring the pleas of the broken men before him.
His voice was calm, almost gentle. “I am no hero. Whatever happens to you now... it’s no concern of mine. Dead men don’t interest me.”
The realization hit them like a sledgehammer.
Veiled Rot and Hollow Mask’s expressions shifted from hope to horror as Abel placed the flag onto the gate.
The mechanisms groaned to life, as the flag glowed and opened a portal for his entrance. The two men turned slowly, their gazes meeting the advancing crabs, which now seemed emboldened by Abel’s indifference.
“No... no! You can’t leave us like this!” Veiled Rot screamed, his voice laced with desperation.
Hollow Mask’s shadowy form trembled, his strength waning. “You... you’re just going to watch us die?”
Abel stepped through the gate without a backward glance, his smile fading as the portal began to close behind him. The last thing Veiled Rot and Hollow Mask saw was the cold, emotionless expression on his face, a silent testament to their doom.
The crabs lunged, their massive claws and snapping jaws descending upon the two men. Their screams echoed through the air, cut short by the brutal sounds of flesh and bone being torn apart.