Chapter 710: Combo Technique

"Astrid Calliste... it’s you again..."

A chill, razor-sharp icicle pierced up through Brennild’s chest from below, yet it didn’t interrupt her speech in the slightest, as if the ice magic had struck not her lungs, but a lump of air utterly unrelated to her.

Several meters away, Astrid, hearing that familiar tongue again, felt none of the joy of meeting an old acquaintance in a foreign land. Her snow-white delicate face was cold as frost; her crimson pupils quietly fixed on Brennild, suspended midair with an icicle through her body, and her tone was light, almost careless.

"It has been a few years."

Since that truly farewell in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, time has passed. If this "god" hadn’t repeatedly stirred war in the shadows, plunging the lives of two nations into misery, Astrid would almost have forgotten she existed.

Her gaze traced the blue-white icicle upward. Astrid noticed that there was no blood gushing from the wound in Brennild’s chest, only a dense, pitch-black liquid, thick as crude oil, staining the ice.

This spell... didn’t seem all that useful.

A sliver of cold intent flashed in Astrid’s eyes. She had no interest in reminiscing further. Under the pull of her mental power, frigid ice-element particles were about to detonate inside the black-haired girl’s body.

Sensing the violent energy contained within the icicle, Brennild’s lips curled faintly. She extended a hand from within her robe and lightly touched the icicle before her.

In the next second, the violently trembling ice particles exploded as Astrid expected, yet this fierce frost shockburst did not harm Brennild at all. Instead, the moment the ice particles touched that pitch-black liquid, they disappeared in great quantities, as though swallowed by darkness.

"You lowly exist who are only fit to look up at us are still as savage and crude as ever, beasts who have never been civilized."

The black hole in her chest was rapidly filled by swarming dark-element particles saturating the air. The Arcanist mage’s death just now served perfectly as nourishment for her recovery. Brennild softly exhaled, lowered her eyes toward the silver-haired beauty not far away, and her gaze paused at the deep-blue brooch on Astrid’s chest.

"Grace’s brooch... you actually obtained it..."

"...No wonder there was a strange aura in that ice spell."

Before her words even fell, the girl’s hand slowly brushed the still-standing remnant ice sculpture. The crystal-clear ice crumbled inch by inch beneath Brennild’s fingertips.

"But with that, you think you can challenge me?"

In her ink-black pupils, Astrid’s figure was reflected; within the bright irises was nothing but arrogance and mockery. Brennild clearly had no intention of talking further either. The dark-element particles that had been predicted to conceal her presence gathered again at her side, gradually converging like a tide.

"After you die, I’ll savor your soul properly. I’ll see what method the famous Imperial Regent used to bypass the shackles of the gods, and what insolent heart you crawled out of to dare use the same language as me."

And to speak it so fluently, as if it were common.

That alone was what Brennild found most intolerable.

As her words ended, the corrosive flood of dark elements around Brennild crashed toward Astrid like a waterfall. Wherever it passed, not a trace of light remained, even the frost on the ground melted naturally beneath it.

Sensing the severe threat of that spell, Astrid chanted at high speed in her mind. Layer upon layer of ice-element shields condensed at once before her, spreading outward from within.

White ice crystals built themselves step by step into a stable prismatic structure. Under the impact of the dark-element torrent, millions of ice particles were scattered, yet the barrier still maintains its outward firmness.

The deep-blue brooch pinned to the surface of her black satin dress continuously overflowed with a chilly aura. The ice particles in the space seemed to be mobilized by it, becoming easier to control than usual, and harder to shatter under external force.

The black tide swallowed forward, completely sealing off Astrid’s area. Brennild raised her hand; several black threads intertwined and merged, quickly forming a pitch-black magic scepter that dropped into her palm.

Within her mental vision, the protective dome of ice particles fights without pause against the erosion of black fog. Every moment, the two elements collide, accompanied by lingering traces of mental power.

Using the same origin magic as hers... so she does have some strength...

From the first exchange, Brennild roughly judges Astrid’s realm. By the common magic ranks humans had established, this silver-haired regent was likely at the level of an early tier Arcanist mage, the same tier as that person she had beaten senselessly outside the Imperial Capital back when they were still not fully grown.

If Astrid could not also chant origin magic, then with only this level, Brennild, who had already recovered part of her strength, would not have regarded her at all. The magic system built from the human common tongue was simply too inefficient. Using such complex, obscure language to communicate with the laws of the world was taking the long way around; it was not worth fearing.

But considering Astrid’s ability to bypass the gods’ shackles, there must be a hidden trump card behind her that Brennild didn’t know. Arrogant as she was, she still did not dare to be careless.

Astrid had to die here, preferably buried together with Lyra. Once those two nuisances disappeared, there would no longer be any existence capable of threatening her on the path of divine revival. And Moserria, now with rudimentary faith, could reclaim its full divinity and become a complete god of this era.

With that thought, the pitch-black scepter, formed of her remaining divinity and ultimate darkness, grew ever more dim and lightless. Brennild poured a vast amount of mental power into the black fog around Astrid.

Origin Magic: [Nightfall Descends, All Breath Extinguished].

A thick aura of death infected the ice-element particles, piercing through one arcane factor after another, attempting to strike the innermost support.

On the other side, Astrid, whose affinity for dark elements was exceptional, also caught the danger. Her hands, wrapped in slender black gloves, tapped slightly against the inner ice wall, connecting with it through mental power to sense the outside.

As an imperial high official, Astrid rarely fights in person. Although the quality of her mental power had broken through to the Arcanist realm, due to a lack of combat experience, once an actual fight began, her true combat power was indeed a notch below Lyra, below some ordinary Arcanist mages.

However, that so-called "a notch below" was premised on her not using at all the immense magical resource foundation afforded by her noble status, and the ancient magic incantations she could chant.

If both came into play, Astrid’s immediate combat power might not be inferior to Lyra by much.

Just as Brennild watched the black fog intently, preparing to continue chanting the unfinished lines, a sharp ice spike suddenly shot out from within the dense mist, stabbing straight toward Brennild’s face.

She still has the strength to attack?

The strike came fast and fierce. Brennild had no time to dodge; she could only immediately draw upon part of the black fog at her side to block.

The ice spike slowed slightly upon contact with the fog, yet it remained in a high-speed offensive state. In Brennild’s vision, those ice particles interwoven with dark elements carry properties that puzzled her. Astrid had deliberately wrapped some dark elements around the spike’s tip, disguising it to continue breaking through the fog.

In doing so, not only was the ice’s inherent kinetic force effectively preserved, the fog’s influence on it was also greatly weakened.

To achieve such exquisite control, Astrid’s affinity for ice elements must be extremely high, and her mental manipulation equally refined, plus Grace’s brooch’s mobilization of ice particles.

That brooch might not compare to the [Sword of Light] in Lyra’s hand, which represents half the rank of the God of Light, but having been worn by Grace for years, accompanied by a deity who held dominion over frost, it naturally carries a trace of divine aura and possesses special magical effects.

Watching the ice spike hovering before her, Brennild’s lips rose into a mocking smile.

So what if she has Grace’s brooch? So what if she can chant origin magic? Mortals are still mortals.

To challenge her with this level of mental power was nothing but a fool’s dream.

She raised her hand and tapped the ice spike as if knocking on glass. As she watched the crystalline spike protruding from the fog shatter along its length, nearly spreading to the ice dome’s defense itself, Brennild’s thoughts shifted. Her lips parted, expelling a wisp of black breath. Driven by her mental power, it crept along the shattered ice towards Astrid.

She could feel it: Astrid’s affinity for light elements wasn’t as outrageous as Lyra’s. And with Lyra currently occupied with another enemy, unable to spare attention here, this disease cloud, accumulated with a portion of her plague authority, would, once it hit, likely strip Astrid of combat capability on the spot.

If she could taste the soul while the target was still conscious, the memories obtained would be more complete.

As Brennild thought this, she raised her gaze to watch the black breath. The cluster of dark-element particles she had temporarily drawn forward to block Astrid’s ice spike hung stagnant before her. As a result, the warning black fog around her was not replenished immediately, leaving an extremely insensitive, hollow gap.

Under the cover of the sun-blocking black tide, the slender maid’s sword reflected not even a shred of moonlight, it didn’t even make the faintest sound of air being split as it parted the fluid.

Back when Astrid unleashed the entry-Arcanist ice spell, [Nail of Dragonic Chill That Pierces the Body], Elise had already concealed her aura, slipping behind Brennild during the gap when the two exchanged words.

At this moment, most dark-element particles were drawn to Astrid at the front. The failed strike just now had greatly relaxed Brennild’s vigilance, so much so that she even forgot to pull back the surrounding fog, focusing all her attention on her opponent. It gave the head maid a once-in-a-lifetime window for assassination.

"...You?"

Before the cold blade even cut flesh, Brennild, an ancient being intimately familiar with death, felt the intense danger the instant she turned her head.

The star of death flickered overhead; the shadow underfoot seemed already brewed into a deathly cloud.

Elise’s sword came from behind Brennild. All her mental power was hidden on that inch of blade edge, meant to erupt at a single point and break the target’s black fog defense.

In truth, she had indeed relied on powerful concealment to wait for this sudden opening.

The instant the tip touched the robe on Brennild’s back, it did not produce scorching sword aura scattering outward like Lyra’s, nor did it bloom into a meat grinder’s razor wind blades to shred prey. Elise Simply, calmly, pushed the tip into the target behind the left chest, like carrying out, per orders, a routine duty within the head maid’s responsibilities.

There was no resistance at all. Robe and flesh were like tofu freshly soaked in water, pierced through in an instant.

Under normal assault procedure, it should have ended there. But Elise had seen how Astrid’s [Nail of Dragonic Chill That Pierces the Body] had pierced Brennild’s chest, and how Brennild nothing had shattered the ice sculpture as if it had happened, landed, and organized a counterattack.

This was far from enough.

The hand gripping the maid’s sword tightened, completing the thrust fully, then she forced the blade upward, slashing diagonally to sever Brennild’s spine and neck.

Such thoroughly, wrapped in layers of black fog, was naturally invisible to Astrid’s naked eyes. But judging by the weakening aura outside, their plan should have succeeded.

A primeval deity who governs the authority of death shouldn’t die so easily. The question was how much impact this strike had truly dealt with Brennild.

Softly chanting, Astrid fused ice and wind into a cold tide that drove back the surrounding black fog. Even the wisp of the disease cloud was sealed within ice. Astrid’s vision cleared instantly, her bright red pupils reflecting the figure standing behind Brennild, a black-haired, mature woman in a black-and-white maid outfit.

On the maid’s sword, Brennild, whose heart and brain had been destroyed, seemed, in that very instant, to turn into nothingness. Her pale skin gradually became transparent, turning into a flowing shadow. Where sword and shadow meet, thick black fog soaked into the metal, wetting the blade.

Sensing the threat, Elise didn’t choose to resist with mental power head-on. She immediately drained all mental power from the blade, avoiding any soul-level contact with Brennild.

"Move, Elise. Now."

Seeing something was wrong, Astrid issued the command at once. The head maid, hearing it, immediately left her position and flickered behind Astrid at maximum speed, without even retrieving her weapon.

In the very next instant, Brennild’s mutilated remains heaved violently as a dense, murky black current of air swept toward them like an advancing tide. Astrid pressed her left hand against her chest, the lace-edged cuff brushing her curves, while she rapidly recited her incantation.

[Land Without Wind], [Everfrozen Frost Fortress].

Two origin spells rose in succession. With Grace’s brooch’s assistance, Astrid used insubstantial elemental particles to bear Brennild’s counterstrike in place of Elise’s individual mental power.

Yet the target of the enemy’s attack... did not seem to be them.

The thick black fog sped across the snow. In no time, it found a suitable vessel.

The mage who had ambushed Lyra ten minutes earlier and was cut down by her outburst lay in frozen earth, his corpse drenched in blood.