The Novel's Sidekick

Chapter 96 52: Young Flame (4)

The False-ward was burning my skin even with all the snowstorms and icy wind blowing. After about seven or eight minutes, when we barely covered half the distance, my endurance was at the short end. So, I infused spirit energy around my body to soothe the burning a little.

However, the further I went, the further the heat rose. It melted away the thin layer of armament I formed to protect my skin. I needed to exert more energy just to keep myself going, which was a deal-breaker because I would need all the energy for this operation.

After only a couple of minutes more, Lord Penron noticed my dilemma. He considered the situation for a moment and opened his mouth. “Stop that old junk of tin,” he said, “I’ll carry you.”

I shook my head, however. “Lord Penron,” I said, “I’m glad to hear the offer, but we can’t delay any longer. I didn’t know how far it had reached by now.”

Well, I could endure the heat more, even if I had to grit my teeth to do it. Bits of snow struck against the suit, melting into droplets of water as it dripped down from the suit. I wondered how much hotter this suit would be if not for the snowstorm. I could literally fry on my chest, as for my back where the main mechanics of the suit were held, was even worse.

“Turn it off,” the elderly Knight repeated. “Even if you reach in time, you will be in no condition to carry on. What’s the advantage of that? Besides, do you think I’m going at my top speed?”

Lord Penron caught my right arm next and pulled me as his speed rose. It was not a lot higher, and after I decided to turn off the suit, it was somewhat slower than our previous speed.

The suit was releasing heat still, snow melted, slapping against it, as the temperature turned to normal in about a couple of minutes. I suppose I will reach our destination before the heat turns unbearable again if I start it off again.

I was about to tell Lord Penron to let me go when a surge of undulation in the air and spiritual aura hit a dozen miles away. It was nothing like the bombardment of destructive dark spells, but entirely silent, however, it brought a chill down my spine. The utter silence didn’t mean it was any less terrible. The silence of its doom ticked on my heart as I bit my lips. Looks like I’m late.

“What kind of abomination is that?” The elderly Knight said, praying with his free hand.

Still, the wrongness showed us the path to where we needed to get first. I was kind of hoping for any magical undulation, but not something like this, but this did the trick, but I hope it didn't do anything more that couldn't be undone.

“Lord Penron,” I called immediately, turning on the suit. “Leave me. You can reach there faster.”

The elderly knight considered for a moment and let him go, before departing towards the centre of all the undulations, rising further into the air. He rose fifty metres more and shot towards the source of the problem. I pulled everything off the suit too, but still couldn’t catch up to him, nor went higher in the air. This was the limitation of the first prototype suit.

The silent terror stopped within a couple of seconds and flashes of the light cast there as I grew closer. It would take me six-seven minutes at the least to reach there, which was a lot of time for anything to go wrong. As if it hadn’t gone wrong already.

The silhouette of Lord Penron vanished from my sight already. Well, with the snowfall and swirling wind, it's quite difficult to see anything within a dozen metres proximity. Still, with the destination at hand, I had no fear of getting lost. My only worry was the others. Shailyn, Noyar would be alright, but what about Yeriel? Could they save her in time? That hushed undulation of doom told otherwise, but . . . I can only hope at the moment.

The painful few minutes passed, and I was only about a mile away from where the outer gate had been opened. My intention was to shoot there at once, however, I noticed a burst of lightning a few hundred metres adjacent to it. A tree was burning in blackish dark flames even in the snowstorm, which called for all my attention.

Biting my lips, I shot there instead, the nail-sword ready on my good arm. I squinted my eyes, peering all over to find the sign of anyone there, surging my spirit energy inside the channels. I was prepared; the sword was ready, infused with spirit force, as I slowed down on the snowstorm.

It didn’t take long for me to find the wrongness there. In the middle of the icy land was a lone figure, surrounded by three more. My heartbeat rose, even though I couldn’t make out whose figure was that. I pulled everything out of the steam releasers on my back, and lurched my head forward, augmenting the speed with the steam releasers from my legs too, as I shot downwards.

Punisher in my arms glowed in red as a fiery red aura surged out of it. I was falling at a tremendous speed, however, I held the sword on my right side preparing for a broad sweep stroke, charging with flames of purgatory.

With the speed I was going, I would definitely collide with the earth even if I saved the person. So I drew my broken arm wide. It pained me, but I still did it, releasing the steam releaser on it against the way I was going. That did the trick.

I caught the figure with that arm as I jerked my leg against the earth hard to make a relatively safe landing. I was too high with adrenaline to feel anything. Crimson flames of purgatory were released from the sword and with the help of the stremrelaser on my left arm, I swirled almost in a full circle with the figure in my embrace.

A ring of fire combusted at once, flinging away the three figures in the surroundings.

Then I noticed the figure in my embrace. Shailyn limped on my chest. Her eyes were wavering, looking at me.

“Looks like I’m late.”

Before my aunt could open her lips, I shot again, as steam released outrageously from my back. I shot forward towards the leading man on the ground.

I didn't know if it was the infamous warlock or not, but I felt a serious danger from him. It was like the vampire I met a few weeks back was only a little underwhelming. That was enough to convince me. He was still down on the ground, and I wanted to keep it that way. This one was a heinous warlock with more than a couple of decades of expertise in the art. I had to make it quick if I had to win.

Even though the warlock didn’t have a footing on the earth, he was far from being helpless. Waves of black flames surged out of his arm as he held it in front of him.

I manoeuvred my leg to the right to stray away from the path of the flames, but the black flame turned too, twisting towards me as I approached the warlock.

Fuck it, I told myself, and glided through the black flames, swinging my sword as glorious crimson flames, ever so dominating, hurled out towards the warlock. The flames of purgatory combust through the dark flames, as if there was no contest between the two. However, I was not entirely free of the effect of the black flame, but I continued with what I needed to do.

A shriek broke through the snowstorm, the hurling mad wind to get into my ears as the flames burned away the fine robes of the warlock to get into his skins and maybe more. Purgatory's whole power was on purging evil, which may be relative to the mortal view, however, this person before me was someone who just went through a sacrificial dark ritual. That was evil from all the scope of morality.

The force of purgatory surged in me too, probably to purge out the affliction I had been hit with the black flames. I was not done with the warlock when my mind rang again.

“Look out,” Shailyn screamed abruptly.

A solitary figure, a few paces away, aimed his bow at me and released the string as an arrow lit in a blue glow shot at me.

My mind chilled as my impulses controlled the body, lurching away from the warlock. The arrow missed just by a nick, fortunately; and I shot the nail-sword, shooting towards the archer, forgetting entirely what I did when I shot the sword like this previously.

The archer missed his chance, but I did not. Darn it, I didn’t miss it in the slightest.

The nailsword hurled through the storm and penetrated the skull of the archer, not giving a second chance to try anything.

The lifeless corpse fell on the cold land, blood splashing all around.

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