NOVEL WEB Chapter 229: Destroy The Cursed (46)
The battlefield trembled under the relentless clash of steel, flame, and energy clashes. The skies were choked with smoke, lit occasionally by searing arcs of energy as the heroes fought tooth and nail to hold their ground.
Of the four Dreadknights that had descended upon them, three already lay slain—massive husks of twisted armor and corrupted flesh now littering the war-torn plains.
Each had taken the combined might of the Elite Hero Forces to bring down, their deaths bought with sweat, blood, and sacrifice.
But the fourth still remained.
Unlike its fallen brethren, it wasn't tearing through squads of soldiers or wreaking havoc across the field.
No—it was locked in single combat. Its towering form moved with frightening precision, its every strike brimming with destructive power.
And the one standing against it… was Kael.
The Dreadknight's massive fist shot forward, colliding with a glowing blue drill of pure energy. The air screamed as the two forces clashed, shockwaves exploding outward and scattering debris like shrapnel.
For a heartbeat, Kael held the line, teeth gritted, veins bulging from the sheer effort. But the difference in strength was merciless. The drill shattered into fragments of dissipating light, and Kael was blasted backward.
He crashed into the ground with bone-rattling force, his armor dented, his lungs burning. A thin line of blood trickled down his lips as he staggered to his feet. His knees shook, his vision swayed, but his spirit refused to break.
Fighting a Dreadknight was beyond him—he knew that. But someone had to try.
Kael had stepped forward not because he was the strongest, but because he was equipped with gear that surpassed most standard elites.
The Blue Gauntlet was glowing faintly on his arm, it had allowed him to amplify his energy drills beyond their natural limits. At first, his sudden offensive had caught the Dreadknight off guard. He had landed several devastating blows, cracks forming along its armor.
But the moment the creature turned its full attention on him… everything changed.
The fight had become a desperate struggle for survival.
Kael gave it everything he had, cycling through every skill, every ounce of strength his body could muster.
His drills screamed against the abomination's armor, his battle cries echoing across the plains. But nothing struck deep enough. Nothing caused real damage.
And worse, his reckless bravery had cost lives.
When a handful of heroes had rushed in to aid him, Kael had shouted for them to fall back. But his warning came too late.
The Dreadknight's hand moved like a guillotine, cleaving through the air—and then through flesh. Five heroes fell in an instant, their bodies collapsing lifelessly at Kael's feet.
The sight seared itself into his mind. His chest tightened with fury and grief. His eyes burned.
Now he stood broken, his armor cracked, his garments beneath torn and soaked with blood.
Wounds slashed across his body, bruises blossoming on every inch of his skin. His reserves of energy were nearly gone. His body screamed at him to collapse, to surrender.
But he remained standing.
Hatred flared in his gaze as the Dreadknight approached with slow, deliberate steps. Its crimson eyes glowed from within its helm, radiating nothing but cruelty and contempt.
"You… wretched monster…" Kael rasped, blood dripping from his mouth. His voice shook with both rage and despair.
The Dreadknight tilted its head, as if mocking his defiance. Then, with terrifying calm, it raised one massive hand.
Darkness swirled around it, the air rippling as raw annihilation gathered in its palm.
Kael's heart sank. His instincts screamed the truth—there was no escaping this.
And yet, as he stared at the end barreling toward him, Kael felt no regret.
At least… he had done something. At least his efforts had bought time, had lessened the burden on his comrades. He had made an impact far beyond what he ever thought himself capable of.
He had grown stronger. He had used that strength not for glory, but to support the heroes in their desperate stand.
If this was his end, then so be it.
His gaze flicked across the battlefield one last time. The A6 were here. All of them except Blazer and Null. The elite of the Tryst Guild had joined the fray as well. And above all…
The Fire God himself—Han Trystan—was here.
Kael's mouth curved into a faint, bittersweet grin. At least… my death will mean something, he thought. If he was going to fall, then he would fall as a hero, not a coward. The thought soothed him more than he expected—it wrapped around his soul like a final comfort. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the cold claws of death.
But then… nothing.
The suffocating aura that had been crushing him, the sheer oppressive weight of the Dreadknight's presence—vanished. It was as if the monster had dissolved into thin air.
Kael's eyes snapped open, confusion striking him harder than any blow. The battlefield before him was empty. The Dreadknight… gone.
His ragged breath hitched as his gaze swept the ground where the monster once stood. And then he saw it—gleaming faintly under the broken earth, no longer than a finger. He stumbled forward, every bone in his battered body screaming, and plucked it from the dirt.
A needle.
A silver needle, unassuming yet impossibly strange. Kael's heart thudded in his chest as he turned it over in his hand. What… is this supposed to mean?
TO be continued.....
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
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– Ultra