Chapter 39: CHAPTER 86. A MOTHER'S BURDEN
Chapter 86: A Mother's Burden
The battle escalated into a full-blown supernatural cataclysm, shaking the foundation of Lafrosa.
Michelle Hawthorne gritted her teeth as a searing arc of black lightning tore across the sky, narrowly missing her by a hair. She twisted in mid-air, deflecting the strike with a wall of compressed wind, her aura strained and split—half of it thrown toward defense, the other clinging desperately to the crumpled figure of Mira below.
"Move!" she hissed through clenched teeth, forcing Mira's limp form behind a barrier of hardened wind. But Mira wouldn't move. Her legs trembled. Her mind was a fog of obsession and guilt. Her eyes, wide and glassy, remained locked on Muna Ikemba, who descended like a goddess of wrath.
"You're still protecting her?" Muna's voice rang like a thunderclap. Her lightning coiled in monstrous arcs across her arms, forming jagged spirals of raw energy. "Even now?"
Michelle didn't answer. She couldn't—not when her breath came ragged, and her hands trembled with the pressure of maintaining her barrier and keeping Mira alive.
"I should've expected this from the Hawthornes," Muna spat, stepping forward mid-air, her boots crackling against the sky like stepping on glass. "Always more bark than bite. Discipline your child or I'll discipline her corpse!"
"Touch her," Michelle snapped back, "and I'll kill you."
"You're already trying," Muna growled. "And you're failing."
Muna surged forward again, her black lightning forming a spear-like weapon that twisted unnaturally in the air—imbued with her hatred, her maternal fury, and the bitter taste of betrayal. She hurled it with a savage snarl.
Michelle barely had time. She wrapped Mira in a cocoon of soulforged wind, throwing her away with a shout of pain as the spear impacted.
BOOM.
The sky exploded with pitch-black brilliance. The spear hit Michelle's shoulder mid-dodge, ripping a bloody trail across her flesh and shattering her balance. She spiraled downward, crashing through a district rooftop, rolling with violent force before regaining her stance.
The wind goddess was bleeding.
From above, Muna hovered, cold and wild-eyed. Her coat whipped in the wind. Her aura roared like a collapsing star.
"You're holding back because of her," Muna said quietly, voice devoid of amusement. "That's why you'll lose."
Michelle rose slowly, shoulders hunched, blood painting her right sleeve. "I didn't come here to kill you, Muna."
Muna tilted her head. "That's your mistake."
From the academy, panic erupted. The city's defensive council activated emergency sigils, and several instructors were mobilizing for intervention. Still, none dared approach the battleground.
Except one.
Marcus Ikemba.
A mist of frost preceded him. His figure stood still atop a rooftop, arms folded, white breath exhaled into the air. He said nothing yet. But his gaze fixed upon the battlefield—and on Muna in particular—with the quiet calculation of someone ready to freeze the storm if necessary.
But the fight wasn't over.
Because Muna hadn't finished. And Michelle, despite her injuries and burden, refused to fall.
And far behind the collapsing clouds, Ramses watched from a soul mirror.
"…Almost there," he whispered, lips curling faintly.