The hall froze in silence the mont Ruby cleaved the cult leader clean in two.
The man’s body fell to the ground, eyes lifeless.
The sudden *thud* brought everyone’s attention to him.
Annabelle and Ariana stood catching their breath, their chests rising and falling after the clash with Abraham. Ariana’s arm bore a shallow cut, while Annabelle’s ankles were scraped raw.
Abraham, however, looked almost untouched. Annabelle’s fatigue from her earlier battle with the evil god was still weighing her down, and that only sharpened her frustration.
Glancing at the bisected cult leader, Abraham muttered under his breath, "You won are far too dangerous."
Ruby stepped to the others’ side, her stance low, eyes locked on Abraham. The tension in her body scread that she was ready to carve him apart just as she had done with Armodius.
Abraham tilted his head then, his gaze sliding over to Adrian. The young man was crouched, working on sothing concealed in his palm.
"Not planning to fight, Mister Adrian?" Abraham asked, a sly curl tugging his lips. "It doesn’t look like you’re too worried about your won."
Without looking up, Adrian answered calmly, "I know they can hold their own until I finish this."
Those words washed over the three won like a wave of fire. Their exhaustion lightened, their strength stirred—his trust was enough to ignite them anew.
Abraham humd, stroking his chin. "And what could you be so busy with?" Adrian had been silent since then, not even trying to assist his lovers. And that alone was quite disturbing.
At last, Adrian lifted his head. A faint smile played on his lips. "This?" He tossed a round steel orb into the air.
Abraham’s brow furrowed. The orb wasn’t aid at him... yet as it hovered, it began to shift.
tal clinked and twisted. Trink. The sphere unfolded, doubling in size, then doubling again, its bulk swelling at a frightening pace. The growing shadow forced Abraham back a step, and he instantly raised a barrier around himself, hurling a fireball at the strange thing.
The spell fizzled uselessly—the tal absorbed the flas like water soaking into sand.
The won stared, their eyes widening as the creation sprouted limbs—two arms, two legs—and slamd down onto the floor between them all.
A golem. Ten feet tall, forged from gleaming silver. Its body pulsed with mana so thick it made the air heavy.
Abraham’s frown deepened. ’Stronger than the last one... far stronger.’ He rembered all too well the fight in the academy, when Adrian had unleashed a crude golem to try and change the tide. That old construct was weak, its fra only coated with a thin film of mana, relying on raw strength and durability alone.
But this one... this one felt alive. Like a beast ready to tear the hall apart.
"Do you think this will be enough to defeat , Mister Adrian?" Abraham sneered. "I’m almost offended by your judgnt."
Adrian shook his head, lips curling into a grin. "You misunderstand. This isn’t built to defeat anyone." His voice dropped, sharp and deliberate. "It’s built to follow a single command."
As if on cue, the golem turned—not toward Abraham. Its heavy steps shook the floor as it marched past him.
Abraham’s smirk vanished. His eyes widened, horror dawning.
Not him.
Its target was—
"The coffin!"
Adrian’s plan was never to fight him. He was here to destroy the remnants of the Fallen God.
Abraham’s mana burst outward, a storm of power rippling through the hall as several magic circles spun into existence around him—each one pulsing with a different elent. His mastery of sorcery was laid bare; he didn’t need a single chant.
One after another, he unleashed his arsenal.
Hell Blaze.
teor Rush.
Ocean Crush.
Gale Eruption.
Explosions of fire, stone, water, and wind hamred the silver golem, shaking the ground beneath it. But when the smoke cleared, the construct stood unscathed—its fra gleaming, not a dent nor a scorch mark in sight.
Abraham’s teeth clenched. His fury boiled over as he spun toward Adrian, circles swirling around his hand again, this ti aid not at the golem but at the man himself.
"Stop it... before you regret it." His voice shook with rage.
Adrian pulled his three won close, his eyes unyielding. "Regret, huh? Try ."
The instant the words left his mouth, all four of them vanished.
"NOOOOO!!" Abraham’s roar shook the heavens. His rage erupted outward, ripping the ground apart. The very air trembled before a colossal explosion consud the hill, its shockwaves tearing through land and sky for several kiloters around.
....
"Ah!" Ruby gasped as her feet touched solid ground again. She staggered, blinking at her surroundings—Adrian’s room.
Her eyes darted around. Annabelle and Ariana were there too, both shaken but safe.
"Haa..." Ariana collapsed onto a chair, exhaling heavily.
Annabelle hurried to Adrian’s side, worry etched into her face. "Darling, are you fine?"
Adrian nodded calmly. "I am. But you three..." His gaze lingered on Ruby. His hand slipped into his coat, and in a heartbeat he drew his revolver.
"Close your eyes."
Ruby obeyed without hesitation. A muted crack echoed—the silenced shot—and warmth wrapped around her body like a wave. She blinked her eyes open again, only to find Adrian’s expression darkened, his brows knitted in a deep frown.
"What?" Ruby asked, confusion flickering across her face.
"Close them again." Adrian reloaded the revolver, his jaw tight.
Ruby’s frown deepened. She stopped him with a hand on his wrist, then turned toward the mirror.
And there it was.
Her breath caught. Though the dizziness had faded and her other wounds were gone, a faint, eerie mark still marred her face. She lifted trembling fingers, tracing it in disbelief.
"My scars didn’t vanish..." she whispered. Adrian’s bullets always healed them—always. Physical wounds, cuts, burns, all of it disappeared. This ti, the mark remained.
Adrian slowly lowered his revolver, his eyes narrowing. "I have a feeling the Acolytes have gotten their hands on witchcraft."
The room fell still.
Ariana’s eyes went wide, horror dawning. "You an... they’ve uncovered the secrets of the witches?"
Adrian exhaled a heavy breath, sinking into his chair. "That’s what I suspect." His voice carried the weight of certainty.
He then told them what he had seen—how his bullet, the one thing that never failed, had simply passed through that Acolyte’s spell. Because it wasn’t fire, or water, or wind, or earth. It wasn’t any elent they knew.
It was sothing else. Sothing forgotten.
Sothing forbidden.
°°°°°°°
A/N:- Have you joined the discord yet? Whose illustration should I post next? Drop a comnt and let know.
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