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Now reading: Chapter 411 411: Who Are You? from The Smiling Death, a Fantasy novel by LOLMan.

Amon's body fell through the open sky, descending rapidly toward the broken battlefield below, his unconscious form carried only by gravity as the cold wind rushed past him and his blood-stained clothes fluttered violently in the air.

Far below, amidst the shattered forest and the remains of battle, Scarlett suddenly lifted her head.

Her athyst eyes widened.

She saw him. She saw Amon falling.

For a split second, her mind went blank.

Then she muttered, "No…"

Her body reacted before her thoughts could catch up.

Ignoring the pain screaming through her muscles, ignoring the exhaustion that made even standing difficult, Scarlett forced her recovered mana into her legs and dashed forward with everything she had left.

The ground beneath her feet cracked slightly as she pushed herself beyond her limits, her body trembling with each step as she calculated the trajectory of Amon's fall.

'Faster…!'

Her breathing turned ragged. Her vision blurred. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.

Above, Amon's body continued to fall, getting closer and closer to the ground with every passing second, his unconscious form completely defenseless.

Scarlett gritted her teeth and pushed even harder.

Then she jumped.

Her body shot into the air with the last of her strength, her arms extending forward as if reaching for sothing she could not afford to miss.

Ti seed to slow. The distance closed.

She caught him.

Thud!

The impact was brutal as she fell to the ground after catching him.

Scarlett crashed onto the ground, her back hitting the broken earth as dust and debris scattered around them, but she held Amon tightly in her arms, shielding him completely from the force of the fall.

A painful groan escaped her lips, but she ignored it.

Her arms tightened around him instinctively, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.

For a mont, she didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Then slowly she looked at his face.

He was blood-stained, pale, and exhausted.

"…Amon…"

Her voice trembled. She leaned closer, her hand moving to his chest.

He was breathing. He was alive. Relief flooded through her instantly.

"Thank goodness…"

Her eyes softened, and before she realized it, she pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing his head gently against her shoulder as if grounding herself in the fact that he was still here.

"You are safe…" she whispered softly, her voice carrying both exhaustion and relief.

Amon stirred slightly in her arms. His eyelids twitched. Then slowly he opened them halfway.

His vision was blurred, unfocused, but he could feel sothing warm around him.

"…yeah…" he muttered weakly. "…and we did it…"

A faint smile ford on his lips.

Scarlett's own lips curved into a soft smile as she looked at him, her red eyes reflecting a quiet warmth despite everything they had gone through.

"Yes…" she whispered. "We did."

Footsteps approached quickly.

Mark and the others arrived, their expressions filled with relief and exhaustion as they gathered around them.

"You both are alive…" Mark said, breathing heavily as he leaned slightly on his spear for support.

So of the others smiled faintly.

So simply collapsed where they stood, too tired to even speak.

For a brief mont, it felt like it was over. Like they had survived.

But then sothing changed. A sudden oppressive pressure descended upon the entire area.

It was heavy, cold, and overwhelming.

Scarlett's body tensed instantly.

Her expression hardened as she sat upright, still holding Amon protectively in her arms.

Mark froze.

The others stiffened, their faces turning pale as fear crept into their eyes.

"What… is this…"

The air itself felt heavier. Breathing beca difficult. Their instincts scread.

Sothing was there. Sothing extrely dangerous.

Scarlett's eyes moved sharply, scanning the surroundings.

Then she saw it. Or rather, she saw him. Floating in the air above them.

A figure of a familiar man.

He was Vetaal.

He hovered effortlessly, as if gravity held no aning for him, his dirty black hair swaying slightly in the wind.

His body looked unnatural, his gray skin stretched tightly over his bones, his thin fra making him appear almost skeletal, and yet… there was sothing deeply wrong about him.

His white eyes stared down at them.

Amon, still weak, looked up as well. Confusion filled his gaze.

And wariness.

Then Vetaal began to laugh. A loud, unrestrained, almost manic laughter echoed across the battlefield.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

His voice carried through the broken forest, sending chills down everyone's spine.

"I am free!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide. "Finally… I am free!"

His laughter grew louder. "Look at you, Chaos… you couldn't stop … now I am free!"

As his voice echoed, sothing horrifying began to happen.

All around the battlefield, the corpses of the monsters… even so of the dying ones and a few alive ones.

They began to rise. Their bodies lifted into the air unnaturally, suspended as if pulled by invisible strings.

Everyone stared in shock.

"What… the hell…"

More than hundreds of monsters hovered in the air.

Those monsters burst. One after another.

Their bodies exploded violently, black blood splattering into the air in grotesque waves.

The sight was horrifying. The sll unbearable. But it didn't stop there.

With a simple movent of Vetaal's hand, the black blood began to separate. The dark, tar-like substance peeled away from the red.

As if sothing impure was being removed.

The red blood, pure and vibrant, rushed toward him. Like a river flowing upward. It poured into his body endlessly.

He laughed as it happened.

"HAHAHAHA!"

The more blood he absorbed, the more his body began to change. The air sound his trembled violently.

His gray, decayed skin slowly turned fair, then pale, then smooth and flawless like that of a human.

His skeletal fra filled out, muscles forming beneath his skin, shaping his body into a perfectly chiseled form, as if sculpted by a master over countless years.

His height increased. His presence grew more dangerous.

His dirty black hair transford, turning into a deep, vivid red that flowed like blood itself.

His white eyes shifted. Becoming a glowing crimson.

A mark appeared on his forehead. A blood-like teardrop symbol. When the transformation was complete.

He no longer looked like a decaying corpse. He looked like a man in his late twenties.

An extrely handso man. Very unnaturally so. A being that seed carved by gods themselves.

But the aura he emitted was anything but divine. It was sothing far darker. Far more ancient. He looked down at them.

His gaze slowly moved. And then stopped on Amon. A wide smile spread across his face.

At that mont.

The pressure intensified. It was a crushing pressure released unknowingly by him.

Mark and several others dropped to their knees instantly, screams of pain escaping their mouths as their bodies failed to withstand it.

Scarlett coughed violently, blood spilling from her lips as she struggled to remain conscious.

Even Amon's breathing beca heavy, his chest rising and falling with difficulty as that overwhelming presence pressed down on him.

It was worse than Kazriel. Far worse than him.

Then Vetaal frowned slightly.

"…Ah."

He chuckled softly. "Sorry…" His voice turned casual, almost amused.

"It's been a long ti since I had my full power… I am having a hard ti controlling it."

As he spoke, the oppressive pressure vanished. Just like that. Everyone gasped for air. Relief flooded their bodies. But the fear didn't go away. Not even a little.

Vetaal began to descend slowly.

Not by falling nor by flying. But by walking. He was walking step by step. As if invisible stairs existed beneath his feet.

Each step brought him closer. Closer to them. Closer to Amon. And with every step, the air itself seed to grow heavier with anticipation.

"Who… are you?" Scarlett asked, pulling Amon closer to her.

Vetaal observed Scarlett for a while.

"Indeed… my guess was right." He smirked and then looked at Amon.

Who was also looking at Vetaal with tired and dazed eyes.

"Boy," he paused and then continued, "what are you? I have not seen anyone like you." His red eyes glowed with interest.

"Well, as I promised, I won't harm anyone here. At least even a devil like myself can show rcy to people who were the reason for my escape, hehe~" The man said with a giggle that sent chills down everyone's spine.

No one spoke. No one said anything.

"Wh-who are you, Vetaal?" Amon asked in a weak voice.

Vetaal smiled wide. "Amon, you don't need to know who I am. Rather, I am more curiou—"

Suddenly Vetaal stopped talking and looked around with a serious expression.

He floated up into the sky.

Then he looked to his right. The smirk ca back.

He looked down at Amon once more.

"Amon, it seems like it's ti to say goodbye… but who knows if fate has plans for us… we might see each other again."

Just then, a massive crack split open in the air.

Space itself seed to tear apart, jagged and unstable. From within that fracture, multiple dark brown tentacles erged. Thick, grotesque, and impossibly long. They slithered outward like living shadows, radiating an ominous presence.

In an instant, they coiled around Vetaal's body.

Yet, he didn't resist.

A smirk curled on his lips. "I just got free, and you already found … so eager to et , aren't you?"

His gaze shifted, lingering for a brief mont on Amon and Scarlett.

Then, without struggle, his body was dragged into the crack.

The tentacles followed.

And just like that, the tear in space sealed itself… vanishing as if it had never existed.

Silence fell.

Everyone stood frozen, shock etched across their faces. It had all happened too fast, too sudden for anyone to react.

Amon's chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to breathe. The tension, the pain, everything caught up to him at once.

Without a word, he pulled Scarlett into his arms.

And then his strength gave out.

Darkness claid him as he lost consciousness.

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