Chapter 107: Unexpected Turn

Lady Mushroom’s head rolled across the frozen ground, her green eyes glazed with shock coming to rest toward the sky.

At that moment, Winter was still in Ice Ghost Form, standing there motionless as he witnessed the decapitation of his ally, powerless to intervene as his opponent’s speed surpassed his own by leaps and bounds.

The air split violently when he cancelled the skill immediately, rematerializing in his physical body with a savage roar of rage that echoed throughout the clearing.

Winter lost all combat composure. The icy mana exploded from his body in a chaotic blue typhoon, his green eyes blazing with a brilliant light completely devoid of human sanity or rational thought.

A massive ice sword took shape in his hand, surrounded by a raging blue current, while the upper atmosphere tore open to manifest dozens of giant ice spears charged with extremely heavy blue mana, causing the atmospheric pressure to double.

"Die, you bastard!"

With a sky-rending scream, the spears launched all at once toward the Grey Crow like rain falling from the heavens.

A mocking smile formed on Varkhane’s distorted face in his massive grey form.

Sensing the lethal energy saturated inside the spears, Varkhane didn’t risk facing them directly. He veered in mid-air, utilizing his momentum and speed to cut through the gap between them like a flashing spark, while the ice spears plunged into the earth behind him, each impact exploding ice and rock in violent circles.

At the exact same moment, Varkhane surged upward with immense power, while Winter leaped up behind him, pushing whatever strength remained in his body toward the sky.

The two soared like arrows, their attack trajectories converging until mere inches separated them.

Varkhane raised his broadsword, the suffocating grey aura wrapping around its blade, while Winter brought down his colossal ice sword with everything he had left.

BOOOOOOOM!

The two swords collided in the high sky.

BOOOOOOOM!

The grey and blue auras detonated at the point of impact, releasing a massive shockwave that engulfed everything around them. Within seconds, the frozen trees within a thousand-meter radius shattered, turning to dust scattered in the air, while the earth cleaved beneath them, forming a wide crater as if a volcanic blast had struck the heart of the forest.

Even the weaker Morveth hiding across the region found no time to escape; the crushing pressure pulverized their bodies, smashing them amid the chaos.

Yet amid that destruction, the two blades remained locked.

Winter pressed with all the force left in his body, but his arms began to tremble under the opposing weight.

He had entered the Fallen rank only recently, whereas Varkhane had spent years honing his body and experience amid countless battles.

The difference between them was showing now as the grey aura pressed harder.

Fine hairline cracks appeared on Winter’s ice sword, spreading from the point of impact like a web of frozen veins.

Winter attempted to drive the sword downward, but his fingers trembled.

CRACK!

The ice sword shattered into crystalline shards in the air.

Winter’s eyes widened in shock, and Varkhane seized that moment. With a smile of victory and overwhelming confidence, Varkhane lunged through the void and delivered a sweeping horizontal slash with his grey broadsword.

"Remember this in your next life... choose your opponents carefully."

The grey blade sliced through Winter’s neck with terrifying smoothness.

For a moment, everything seemed still.

His head separated from his body, rising into the air while his eyes remained open, fixed on the sky as though they had not yet processed what had happened. Below, his severed body crashed to the earth, hitting the ice and stone violently before his head tumbled and landed a distance away.

Varkhane landed heavily afterward, stones shattering beneath his feet.

As soon as his feet settled, his grey form began to shrink.

His massive body gradually contracted, his wings folded, and the grey aura retreated from his body and vanished, returning him to his black-feathered form once more.

However, the moment he returned to his natural state, his body betrayed him.

A harsh exhaustion washed over him, and he felt his mana drained to a terrifying degree. His legs trembled under the weight of pain, unable to maintain his balance, and he buckled to his knees before collapsing onto his back over the frozen earth, right beside Winter’s severed head.

His chest rose and fell violently, every breath leaving his teeth burning and ragged. His muscles throbbed with agony from within, as if pushed past their limits and left to pay the price all at once.

He raised his trembling hand, wiping the sweat mixed with blood residue from his forehead, then turned his head slowly.

His eyes came to rest on Winter’s head lying near him.

Then a faint, broken chuckle escaped his lips, quickly turning into a heavier laugh despite the pain gnawing at his body.

"Damn it... I haven’t had to use the third form in a very long time..."

"But..." A broad smile stretched across his face despite his ragged breathing, "that was fun."

He turned his head to the side, looking with ecstasy at Winter’s severed head resting centimeters away from him, a victory smile of bitter mockery carved onto his lips:

"You could have become someone truly strong... if only you had chosen a suitable opponent—"

Varkhane stopped mid-sentence.

His tongue froze, his eyes locked onto Winter’s severed head.

Not a single drop of blood flowed from the severed neck, nor did a single drop stain the stones beneath the head.

Then, Winter’s eyes snapped open.

His pupils widened slowly, and a cold green glow ignited within them, growing brighter until it illuminated the features of his face.

The corner of his mouth twitched, then lifted until his lips parted into a wide, twisted smile that did not resemble the smile of a sane human being.

"Ha... Hahaha..."

The smile turned into a demonic cackle, but it emanated from the motionless head in a muffled, unnatural voice, making the scene far more terrifying than a mere scream.

Only then did Varkhane’s smile vanish completely.

And before Varkhane’s exhausted mind could process what was happening, dense strands and webs of glowing green threads erupted simultaneously from the severed neck and the severed head.

The threads intertwined like living, floating veins, pulling the head through the air in a strange, sickening display until it reattached to the body.

The tissues knit together and fused rapidly, skin and bone returning to their places as if the head had never been severed from the body at all.

Moments later, Winter stood on his feet once more. His body was completely intact, without a single wound or trace of the cut, as though what had transpired moments prior had never happened.

As for Varkhane, he remained sprawled at Winter’s feet, staring up at him with wide eyes.

His features froze in a shock he could not conceal, appearing for a moment utterly incapable of even moving his body.

"Impossible..."

He kept staring at Winter, his eyes trembling slightly as he took in his perfectly intact neck.

"How... how are you still alive?"

Winter stood tall above Varkhane, who was sprawled out on the barren ground. His long hair fluttered behind him as he looked down at the Fallen warrior with lethal indifference, uttering not a single word.

Varkhane trembled, his eyes darting between Winter’s completely intact neck and his emotionless face, desperate for an answer or explanation for what had just transpired. But Winter remained as silent as stone, refusing to grant him even a single word to ease his shock.

Suddenly, the darkness shrank among the ruined trees.

A black shadow shifted across the ground, gliding with blinding speed through the wreckage before rising from the smoke.

From the debris of the battlefield emerged a dark figure wrapped in a mysterious cloak, his face concealed beneath a polished silver mask through which only a pair of green eyes glowed with sharp emerald light.

In his grip, he wielded a colossal black scythe. Along its razor-sharp blade pulsed a dense, near-black emerald aura that radiated a heavy pressure.

And he was not alone.

Stepping smoothly right behind the cloaked figure was Lady Mushroom. She wore her distinct mushroom cap, leaning lightly on her staff which towered over her small frame—without a single mark on her neck, as if her head had not rolled across the frozen dirt mere moments ago!

The final thread of Varkhane’s composure shattered. His eyes widened in absolute disbelief as he tried to drag his exhausted body backward, but his limbs refused to obey.

His voice escaped in raspy, broken gasps:

"Im... impossible! How... how are you two still alive?! I severed both of your heads... HOW?!"

Malrik came to a halt before the sprawled veteran, slowly raising his black scythe until the emerald blade rested directly against the exhausted Crow’s neck.

A mocking smile formed beneath the silver mask, his deep, calm voice dripping with deceit:

"I appreciate your valiant effort, my friend, but unfortunately... this must end here and now. There is still another target to eliminate, and I don’t have time to waste on explanations."

"If you are obedient... I might let you join us. I will make you immortal, just like them. What do you say?"

Varkhane’s racing pulse stilled for a fraction of a second, his exhausted eyes gleaming with a greedy, desperate hunger as he stared at the blade resting on his neck. The promise of immortality—and the sight of Winter and Lady Mushroom standing whole after being decapitated—was an irresistible temptation to a body that refused to yield to death.

Varkhane swallowed hard, asking in a raspy voice filled with surrender:

"What... what do you want me to do for you?"

A soft, cold laugh escaped from behind the silver mask.

Slowly, Malrik tilted the black scythe, drawing the emerald blade away from Varkhane’s neck.

The Crow exhaled a deep sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly. For a brief moment, he genuinely believed he had bargained for his life, standing on the threshold of joining this incomprehensible power.

But he never saw what happened next.

Malrik’s multiplied attributes surged all at once, driving the dark blade in a lethal horizontal arc that sliced through the air faster than Varkhane’s eyes could ever track.

SWOOSH!

Before Varkhane’s eyes could even register the movement, the dark blade had already severed his head.

His head flew through the air before crashing onto the frozen earth, his final expression one of pure shock and disbelief.

His eyes remained wide open, staring blankly into nothingness.

Silence blanketed the barren battlefield. Malrik stood silently, his black scythe shrouded in a dense emerald-black aura that radiated from the blade like a dark, living flame.

His green eyes glowed beneath the darkness of his silver mask, staring coldly down at the commander’s corpse as he muttered in a dry, suffocating voice:

"All you have to do... is die."

******

Author’s Note:

This Chapter was exhausting and quite long—it took almost the effort of writing two Chapters, but I genuinely had a lot of fun writing it.

If you enjoyed the Chapter, don’t forget to support this author.

Love you all!