"You're tough, I'll give you that," Yushiro said, his voice mocking. "But this is the end."
Sierra's eyes narrowed, filled with defiance. She pressed her remaining hand to her wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. She whispered incantations under her breath, calling upon every ounce of magic she had left.
"Status Boost."
"Blood Flow Reverse."
"Self-Reliance Magic."
"Bitter Strength Magic."
"Beast Phantom Magic."
Sierra poured all her remaining mana into these spells. Status Boost surged through her, enhancing her physical and magical abilities temporarily. Blood Flow Reverse, a lesser version of berserker magic, caused her blood to flow backward, raising her body temperature and granting her a temporary surge in strength and alertness, though at a great cost to her stamina and well-being.
Self-Reliance Magic, a healing spell, began to mend her wounds. Although weak due to her current state, the combined effects of Status Boost and other enhancements amplified its power, staunching her internal bleeding. Bitter Strength Magic, a spell that increased her power in proportion to her injuries, infused her with raw, painful strength, despite its severe drawbacks. Lastly, Beast Phantom Magic granted her the strength of a great bull and the speed of a unicorn.
With renewed determination, the battle resumed. Sierra, now fighting with only one hand, moved with a blend of grace and desperation. The clashing of swords and the crackle of magic filled the air. She parried and struck, her sword a blur of motion, but it was clear she was struggling. Her opponents also used various types of magic, enhancing their strength, sending shockwaves and debris flying everywhere.
Sierra created an earth wall with her magic to protect herself from the pistol girl's long-range attacks, then attacked and defended simultaneously. The three attackers pressed their advantage, their attacks relentless. Sierra's breaths came in ragged gasps, her body aching with the effort. She knew she couldn't hold out forever, but she had to buy time, had to keep fighting.
As the battle raged on, Sierra's mind raced with desperation. "Please," she thought, her heart heavy. "Please, someone come."
Her vision blurred with exhaustion, but she refused to give in. Each movement was a testament to her unyielding spirit. Her swordsmanship, though hampered by her injuries, was still a force to be reckoned with. She blocked a strike from Yushiro, only to be forced back by a combined assault from Kenya and Jorin. The ground beneath her feet trembled with the impact of their attacks.
The pistol girl, having discarded her useless weapon, now joined the new gun. She moved with deadly precision, aiming for Sierra's vital points. Sierra barely managed to deflect a strike aimed at her heart, the force of the blow sending her staggering backward.
"Is this all you've got?" Kenya taunted, his spear spinning in his hands. "You should have stayed down, goblin."
Sierra didn't respond. She couldn't afford to waste energy on words. Instead, she focused on the rhythm of the battle, the ebb and flow of her enemies' movements. She had to find a weakness, an opening.
"Earth Spikes!" she cried, slamming her hand into the ground. Sharp stone spires erupted from the earth, forcing her attackers to dodge and disrupting their formation. She used the momentary chaos to launch a counterattack, her sword slicing through the air with newfound vigor.
But the effort was taking its toll. Each spell, each strike, drained her mana and strength. Her vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges. She felt the burn of fatigue in her muscles, the sting of unhealed wounds.
"Come on, Sierra," she muttered to herself. "Just a little longer. Hold on."
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The minutes dragged on like hours. Sierra's thoughts grew hazy, her focus slipping. Yet she fought on, driven by sheer willpower. She parried another blow from Yushiro, then lashed out with a desperate slash that forced him back.
But the tide was turning against her. The combined might of her enemies began to overwhelm her. Jorin's ice magic created slippery patches that threw off her footing. Kenya's spear darted in and out, seeking weak points in her defense. The pistol girl, found gaps in Sierra's guard, inflicting painful, shallow wounds.
As Sierra's strength waned, a cold dread settled in her chest. She couldn't hold out much longer. Her vision blurred, her movements slowed. Her opponents sensed her weakening state and pressed their advantage, their attacks growing more ferocious.
Yushiro used warp magic, teleporting right in front of Sierra. It was likely the final attack that would end her life. Sierra shut her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. Seconds passed, but she felt nothing.
Puzzled, she opened her eyes to see a young green man blocking Yushiro's sword with one hand. Her heart leapt with recognition and relief. "Elder Semiath?" she called out. It was the eldest goblin, appearing youthful thanks to Scarlett's blessing.
In Semiath's left hand were two severed heads, those of Jorin and Karva from the North team. He had already killed them, which explained his delayed arrival. Unfortunately, the elven girl Layra had slipped away.
Yushiro's face twisted with rage. "You, how dare you kill my subordinates!" he shouted, his expression ugly with anger.
Semiath snorted. "Heh... you killed almost everyone here. Now that your friends are dead, you're angry?"
Sierra took a deep breath, feeling a momentary relief. But the battle was far from over.
"Maker, Sonya, go for that goblin girl. Kenya and I will handle this guy," Yushiro ordered.
Sierra, despite her injuries and exhaustion, took a few steps back and readied her stance.
"Just let me get close to her, it will be over then!" Maker shouted.
Yushiro and Kenya charged towards Semiath, while Maker lunged at Sierra. The barrier was close to falling; it had been almost nineteen minutes.
Semiath, despite the barrier's weakening effects, proved more powerful than Yushiro and Kenya. Their combined assault was met with unmatched skill and strength. Semiath parried and countered with ease, forcing them back step by step. His movements were fluid, precise, and devastatingly effective.
Sierra glanced at the roof where the girl with the pistol had been standing, but there was no one there now. "Where did she go?" she thought, anxiety gnawing at her.
Meanwhile, Semiath started to take the lead against Yushiro and Kenya. They were already exhausted from fighting Sierra, their movements sluggish and labored. Hope flickered in Sierra's mind. Maybe they had a chance.
But then, all her hope was crushed as the main figure entered the battlefield.
Swung... Chin... Chnn...
The sound of sword slashes filled the air, but no one saw the sword itself. All they saw was a man in a white robe with black and golden hair, wielding a unique white sword with a large red gem embedded in it. It was Prince Lórien. He rushed past Elder Semiath at an incredible speed, so precise it seemed like he moved in slow motion. He bent to his knees and sheathed his sword with a practiced, deliberate motion.
Everyone's attention was on him. Semiath stopped moving. As Lórien sheathed his sword, Sierra's eyes widened in shock at the unbelievable sight.
Elder Semiath's body fell into three pieces: his head severed from his neck, his abdomen cut in half, and his legs sliced at the knees. There was no doubt—Elder Semiath was dead. He hadn't even had a chance to speak his last words, showcasing Lórien's terrifying power.
Tears flowed from Sierra's eyes as she saw Semiath's body collapse. She rushed toward him, but before she could take a step, Sonya, the pistol girl, appeared before her. This time, she held a shotgun.
"Boom!"
The shotgun blast hit Sierra squarely in the chest, blood spurting from the wound. She turned to retreat, but as she did, Maker's hand plunged into her abdomen, his smile as bright as ever.
"Sword Prison: Straight Slashes," he called out.
In an instant, swords materialized out of thin air, piercing Sierra's body. Three swords impaled each of her hands. Six stabbed into her torso. Two pierced each leg, and one skewered each thigh.
Sierra looked like a macabre sculpture, pierced by dozens of swords. Despite the agony, she bent to her knees but refused to fall. Her spirit would not surrender. Blood flowed from her wounds, her breaths ragged and shallow. Pain wracked her body, but she stood tall, defiance burning in her eyes.
In a few seconds, her movements stopped. Her eyes shut, and her body went still. Everyone thought she was dead. At that moment, the barrier around the village also vanished.
"Hurry, we are departing. I already checked that area, Yumi Yamamoto isn't here," Lórien commanded, his voice tinged with both regret and anger. They had caused such a scene. What if Scarlett had fled with Yumi, planning to use her as a hostage for revenge later on?
Maker was the first to move, followed by the others. The chaotic scene grew eerily silent, their footsteps echoing in the void. Only Kenya lingered, approaching Sierra's seemingly lifeless body. "What a disappointment that y—"
His sentence cut off abruptly as his vision flipped upside down. Puzzled, he couldn't understand what had happened. "Why is everything looking upside down? My neck, it hurts so much!"
As his head detached from his body and flew away, he saw Sierra standing. The barrier had disappeared, and Sierra, though gravely wounded, was not dead. It was her true strength. With a single powerful lunge, she had severed Kenya's head from his body.
Everyone gasped in shock, but Sierra was at the end of her life. It was her last act of defiance, taking one life with her. An arrow imbued with wind magic suddenly pierced her forehead. It was from Lyra, the elven girl, the only surviving member of the North team.
With that, Sierra took her last breath and fell backward. The swords and arrows holding her in place stopped her body mid-air. She looked like she was sleeping on a bed of swords, but the cruel reality was that the swords pierced her body, suspending her in a gruesome display. It was a scene both cruel and unbelievable.
A tear of blood fell from Sierra's eyes as she died.
Yushiro bit his lip in anger, seeing Kenya's dead body. He was about to go back and slaughter the remaining villagers, but Lórien stopped him with a fierce look. "We killed their subordinates, and they killed ours. That's all. Let's go!" he ordered.
No one dared to say a word. They took Kenya's body, along with the heads of Jorin and Karva, for burial. The village, now a silent graveyard, lay still. The corpses of the villagers were abandoned, the silence so profound that even the faintest breath could be heard.
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Should I give one week to "reborn as an Yandere " And one week to "turned into a dragonoid? "