Lady Freya looked at Heath Ada Levine in an appraising manner. “So I see the deal as this. I let you kill Milo, and you revive my nephew?”

When she received a quick nod of confirmation from Heath, Freya pursed her lips and added, “I see…but only on one condition.”

Freya’s words rubbed against Heath like metal scraping against granite. Keeping a calm outward appearance, he gave the ominous witch a broad, charming smile that definitely wasn’t there to mask any potential small, unconscious micro-expressions in his face.

Freya had a gut feeling. She hoped it wasn’t true, but she wasn’t feeling optimistic with the tone of voice that the darkness was whispering her in. She knew many things, even more so compared to her contemporaries.

She had summoned demons, incited the ire of Gods, visited the realm of spirits.

And there was one thing that she had learned over her lifetime.

Don’t ever mess with the void.

Even the Gods wouldn’t be able to protect her if she made a wrong move.

And right now, the Darkness was telling her that Heath was—at least in part—no longer of this world. That the void had corrupted him. That he was no longer a person of this world, but an agent of the void.

“I will only release you if you tell me why you want to kill Milo, Son of George.”

She wanted to know the why. It simply wasn’t normal. Milo was but an ordinary peasant.

Why was he after him?

[Peer Truth] at the ready, she awaited Heath’s response. If he delayed, then that meant only one thing.

So when Heath’s face turned long and gaunt, and he became silent, Lady Freya immediately knew the answer to her question.

Her arm pulsed, causing the black arms enwound around Heath’s neck to constrict. But before Heath’s neck could be crushed, an arrow found itself in her back.

Gasping for a breath of air that wouldn’t come, she collapsed to her knees and—subsequently—the ground.

Walking out from the shadow of a nearby bookshelf, an enchanted crossbow propped up against her shoulder, the drow smirked. Wearing leather armour that blatantly accentuated the curves of her body, rather than its ability to withstand attacks, the grey-skinned woman waltzed forward, whistling an upbeat tune. She used the curl of her foot to flip Freya over onto her side and smirked at her.

The drow spoke in an overly sarcastic tone. “Freya, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot you through the back with an arrow. I was aiming for Heath instead.”

The light in Freya’s eyes faded. Her face lost all tension. Her quivering body stilled.

Freya, the infamous [Witch], was no more.

The drow squealed in excitement when she saw the level up notification. She was adding to her stats when Heath yelled at the top of his lungs, interrupting her.

“Hurry up and release me!”

The drow frowned.

The black arm of arms, even after the death of its master, refused to let go of and give back the power it stole from Heath. He was utterly trapped.

The drow curled her lips up in amusement at the sight of the noble and arrogant [Exalted Empyrean] being completely helpless and trapped. She made sure to take in the image of the scene as long as possible. She unsheathed a curved sword from her belt and cut him loose.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

It was as Heath recovered and regained a sense of his body, the drow being all too eager to mock him for being a “whining bitch”, that a growing shadow pulled itself out from Freya’s dead corpse. In the span of a few moments, the creature ballooned in size, growing so large that it blotted out the light that shone from the hall’s grand chandelier.

By the time the drow noticed it, it was too late.

“Shit!” the drow cursed as she reached for her other curved sword.

Some magicians, specifically summoners, would often release a vengeful spirit hellbent on avenging its dead master.

A skin-crawling sound came from the black shadow once it fully exited from Freya’s corpse. It was akin to the sound of someone opening a door with rusty hinges.

By the time Heath had enough strength to stand, the drow was already entrenched into a battle with the shadow. Jumping on top of and across bookshelf to bookshelf, the drow used her twin blades to meet the blackened claws of the summon.

When enough distance was created between her and the black shadow, she slid another arrow into the crossbow and aimed for the head. When it came right through the other side, she grimaced.

Just one of those arrows was worth enough to buy about a third of a luxurious mansion.

“I’ll take care of the shadow!” The drow screamed as she backflipped through the air, dodging the black shadow as it swiped towards her.

Feeling as frail as a man on death’s door, Heath inwardly cursed.

Goddamnit, it’ll take me a couple hours before my strength returns. Now…where is he?

Heath followed the pull of [Track Location - Milo, Son of George] on his soul.

I’m coming for you, Heath growled with bloodshot eyes.

[00:02:55]

[00:02:54]

[00:02:53]

***

Milo ran down the stairs with his heart thumping out of his chest. It felt like his legs were made of jelly.

He hoped that his family was safe and that Ostin would stop anyone that tried to hurt them. By the time he was forced to leave the array console, he still hadn’t finished off all the [Inquisitors]. There were still a few stragglers out there.

Milo estimated that about half of the village had died in the attack so far. He couldn’t imagine the aftermath. But he might not even be there for the aftermath. There was a high-class mage chasing after him right now, and he wanted him dead.

He had overheard the conversation between Freya and the man before Freya was shot in the back and killed.

It was the reason he was here in the first place. It was bizarre.

Why him? He wasn’t remarkable or important in any way.

Did he know he was an Eternal?

Milo shook his head. That wasn’t possible…or was it?

It scared and confused him at the same time. His mind went back. Was there a link between now and when Kirkstead was originally attacked?

Milo, however, didn’t have enough time to think about such things as he heard a manic cackle from above.

“You can run little rabbit, but you can’t hide!”

Heath’s words caused Milo’s breath to falter momentarily. He then missed his next step, causing him to slide forward awkwardly. Luckily, he caught himself on the adjacent railing. When he looked up, Milo realised he had reached the bottom.

He ran under the marble arch and into the long corridor. Looking like veins running across the underside of a forearm, marble arches supported the roof every few meters. The corridor was about three meters wide and tall. If a fight was to occur, then Milo guessed that the wizard wouldn’t have a lot of wiggle room to keep himself out of the crossfire.

Once Milo reached the end of the hundred-meter-long corridor, stopping right before the thin film of gray fog that separated the hall from the statue’s chamber, je looked down at his reflection in the lapis-tiled flooring and donned the hood of his robe. In an instant, Milo disappeared. He had been planning to prank Ostin with the invisibility cloak when they were on their way out but due to the change in circumstances, that was no longer the case.

Just in time too—they had arrived.

Looking perfectly calm and stoic, Heath slowly walked down the corridor.

A humming sound echoed throughout the hall, coming from a disk of purple light that constantly rotated between Heath’s fingers. With [Fate Bullet] at the ready, Heath could kill in the blink of an eye.

When Heath stopped in his steps, Milo’s heart dropped.

Heath was several paces away from the fog. Milo was pressed against the wall only a couple of steps before the fog.

Does he know? Milo pondered.

He gulped.

Like a dog sniffing out his food, Heath proceeded to take a series of slow, careful steps, each one gradually bringing him closer and closer to Milo.

Heath now stood completely parallel to him.

Suddenly Heath shot a flurry of powerful purple lights through the grey fog that would have, beyond any point of doubt, obliterated Milo into nothing. Strangely, the loud hums of Heath’s projectiles immediately ceased as they passed through the grey fog. As if it was swallowing them.

Milo felt like he was going to suffocate if he held his breath in any longer.

It was when Heath took a step back that Milo could no longer stay still.

It was a good life! Milo yelled inside his mind. His body moved on its own. Milo jumped behind the old man, exploded forward and shoved him with all his power.

Normally, this would never have worked. Heath was a Level 100 [Exalted Empyrean].

But Heath was old. He was frail, his muscles were tight, and he had the balance of a leaf in the wind. His mind wasn’t as quick as it used to be. Heath stumbled forward into the fog.

But not without releasing a [Fate Burst]. Like a ripple on a water’s surface, a purple ring of light shot out from Heath in all directions.

Milo was split in half at the waist.

It was instantaneous and Milo didn’t feel any pain. It just happened. All the blood in him poured out from the bottom of his torso. Organs spilled out. White bone was exposed.

Blackness closed in from the periphery of Milo’s vision. His thoughts stilled. Time slowed down. Reality grew distant.

All at once, everything became very quiet.

[You have died!]

[Recalling Soul in 3…2…1]