Chapter 267: Death Of A Ratchyr Leader

Caelestra’s expression darkened as another of her coins shattered between a Ratchyr’s incisors.

For someone who regarded her Soul Essence as both a weapon and an extension of her commercial ingenuity, watching her precious Coins being devoured by oversized rodents was an experience bordering on financial blasphemy.

Ordinarily, she would never have considered using another Essence Rune against creatures of this calibre. The sheer ease with which she could activate it, coupled with its almost absurd destructive potential, made such an expenditure seem unnecessarily extravagant.

In her estimation, deploying it against a colony of freakish rodents would be equivalent to employing an entire army to settle an argument with a street vendor.

However, fate had apparently developed an unusual sense of humour.

The Ratchyrs had not merely neutralized her Coins; they had systematically annihilated them, reducing her carefully controlled projectiles to worthless fragments of silver light. Under the circumstances, Caelestra concluded that a change of strategy was necessary.

"Very well," she muttered, her silver eyes narrowing. "If you insist on being expensive, then I shall ensure you become equally costly."

She extended her hand, and the Coins revolving around her suddenly halted.

For an instant, the silver discs hung motionless in the air, their surfaces reflecting the scarlet illumination of the ruined temple. Then Caelestra channelled Aether through her Soul Essence, activating her Coin Legion.

The transformation was immediate.

The Coins began expanding, increasing in size and thickness until each resembled a metallic shield. Their surfaces rippled with silver light before their physical forms dissolved into radiant particles.

Then the particles converged before twisting and reforming into spectral warriors clad in shimmering armour.

One after another, the warriors materialized behind Caelestra, their ranks extending across the bloodstained chamber. Each carried a spectral weapon, ranging from long swords and spears to broad shields and heavy polearms.

Their helmets concealed their faces, leaving only the cold silver light burning within their visors to suggest the presence of anything resembling consciousness.

Within moments, the silver-haired Merchant stood before an army of incorporeal soldiers, their weapons held at attention as though awaiting the command of a general preparing to reclaim a conquered kingdom.

Caelestra surveyed her legion with quiet satisfaction. Then she pointed towards the advancing Ratchyrs and ordered coldly.

"Exterminate them."

Her command had barely left her lips when the spectral warriors surged forward like an army of avenging spirits unleashed from centuries of imprisonment.

The Ratchyrs were still occupied with intercepting the remaining coins when the Coin Legion descended upon them...

Spectral swords flashed, spears thrust, and shields crashed against the creatures’ bodies. The warriors swept through the colony like unsheathed blades thirsting for blood, their coordinated assault tearing apart the disorganized formation that had previously threatened to overwhelm the group.

Black blood splattered across the flagstones as Ratchyrs fell beneath the relentless onslaught. Some were impaled by spears before they could turn around, while others found themselves cleaved apart by swords that passed through their defences with terrifying efficiency.

Caelestra watched the slaughter with the composed expression of a war merchant observing the profitable conclusion of a particularly lucrative transaction.

After all, what was warfare if not an exchange of resources, except that the currency happened to be blood, the merchandise was death, and the customers were generally too dead to complain about the prices?

Fortunately for the wounded Rank Two leader, the colony’s desperate sacrifice had bought it enough time to recover. The creature dragged itself upright, its injured leg trembling beneath its considerable weight as it attempted to regain its footing.

Unfortunately, its recovery was short-lived because before it could properly stand, two figures converged upon it from opposite directions.

Golden light illuminated Kaeloris’s spectacles as the bespectacled Gnost unfolded his Scroll. His expression remained composed, although the tension in his shoulders betrayed the concentration required to confront a creature whose cultivation surpassed his own by a whole Realm.

He channelled Aether into the Scroll and activated Law Script. The surface of the ancient parchment shimmered, and a word appeared upon it; fatigue.

The instant the word manifested, the Rank Two Ratchyr faltered. A supernatural heaviness descended upon its body, spreading through its limbs like invisible chains. Its muscles grew sluggish, while an oppressive drowsiness threatened to smother its awareness.

The creature snarled and attempted to force itself forward.

Despite the influence spreading through its body, it refused to surrender to the sensation. Its claws scraped against the flagstones as it struggled to maintain its balance, its enormous ears twitching with agitation.

Kaeloris’s eyes remained fixed upon the Scroll but he had no intention of allowing the creature an opportunity to recover.

Once more chanelling Aether, another word appeared; slow.

The effects compounded almost immediately. The Ratchyr’s movements became increasingly laboured, as though an invisible weight had settled upon its shoulders.

Its attempts to reposition its limbs grew sluggish, and even the movement of its head seemed to require a disproportionate amount of effort.

To the creature, the surrounding world might as well have become a river of molasses.

Yet Kaeloris was not finished.

His fingers tightened around the Scroll as he channelled another surge of Aether into its surface and a third word materialized beneath the previous two; freeze.

The final command struck the Ratchyr with another wave of supernatural restraint. Its legs stiffened, and its body jerked as it attempted to resist the binding influence.

A furious shriek erupted from its throat, reverberating through the temple as it struggled against the invisible forces attempting to immobilize it.

Three words now burdened the creature, each exerting a different degree of influence upon its body. Fatigue drained its endurance, Slow hindered its movements, and Freeze attempted to prevent it from moving altogether.

For an ordinary Rank One Netheryte, the combined effects would have been devastating.

Unfortunately, the target was a Rank Two creature.

The difference in cultivation proved significant. Although Kaeloris’s Law Script managed to restrict the Ratchyr’s movements, the influence remained superficial compared with what he might have achieved against an opponent of comparable rank.

The creature could still struggle, and every violent movement threatened to shatter the fragile advantage he had established.

Kaeloris understood this limitation perfectly well.

He had never been conceited enough to believe that he could defeat a Rank Two Netheryte through his own abilities alone.

Therefore, his purpose was not to kill the creature but to create an opening for someone capable of delivering the finishing blow.

There was also the matter of expenditure.

Writing a lethal command into his Law Script would consume considerably more Aether than maintaining restrictive effects. Against an opponent whose cultivation exceeded his own, attempting to impose a fatal law would be an extravagant gamble with a predictable conclusion.

Consequently, he settled for restraint rather than execution.

Even so, the effort was taxing. Sweat gathered along his forehead, and the muscles in his hand tightened as he fought to maintain the three active commands.

His Scroll trembled faintly beneath his fingers, while the light illuminating his spectacles flickered with each additional surge of Aether.

The Ratchyr roared, its body straining against the invisible restraints and Kaeloris’s jaw tightened.

He was beginning to feel the burden of maintaining the spell, and he knew he could not hold the creature indefinitely. Nevertheless, he persisted, trusting that his companions would understand the opportunity he was attempting to create.

Fortunately, he was not working alone.

While Kaeloris maintained his restraint, Aureleah was occupied with several Ratchyrs that had surrounded her. Thanks to her elusiveness and the techniques characteristic of an Assassin, the silver-haired woman proved exceptionally difficult to pin down.

Where the others had to withstand direct attacks or expend considerable energy maintaining their positions, Aureleah simply refused to remain where her opponents expected her to be.

Her movements were economical and precise. She slipped between snapping jaws, evaded sweeping claws, and exploited every opening with the ruthless efficiency of someone who understood that a single well-placed strike could accomplish more than a dozen unnecessary movements.

She had just driven her Daggers through the neck of another Rank One Ratchyr when her silver eyes caught sight of the struggling leader and her expression sharpened instantly.

Without wasting another thought, Aureleah activated Shadow Drift.

The shadows gathered around her cloak, spreading across its surface like liquid darkness. In the next instant, her figure dissolved into a flicker of black light and disappeared.

The Ratchyrs charging towards her position abruptly halted.

Their intended prey had vanished, leaving them snapping at empty air. Before they could comprehend what had happened, a black wind swept through their ranks...

WHOOSH!

The movement was almost imperceptible.

Several heads separated from their bodies, falling onto the flagstones with resounding thuds. Black blood erupted from the severed necks, splattering the surrounding stone as the remaining creatures recoiled in confusion.

The sight was eerie and profoundly unsettling, the sort of spectacle that would have made even a hardened soldier reconsider his career choices.

Had an ordinary person witnessed the scene, the sudden appearance of headless monsters and an invisible killer would probably have persuaded them to abandon the battlefield and pursue a more peaceful occupation.

Aureleah emerged from the shadows near Kaeloris, her Daggers pristine and gleaming beneath the scarlet light. Darkness clung to her cloak like a living mantle, while the expression on her face remained as cold and composed as ever.

Before her stood the restrained Rank Two Ratchyr.

The creature was still struggling against Kaeloris’s Law Script, its crimson eyes burning with fury as it attempted to break free. The supernatural restraints were weakening, and its movements had begun to recover their former strength.

Kaeloris could not hold it much longer but fortunately, Aureleah required no explanation.

In the next instant, she moved with immediate alacrity, vanishing into a spray of darkness..

WHOOSH!

A cluster of shadows unfurled across the creature’s head, and the Ratchyr’s crimson eyes widened as her baleful figure appeared directly before it.

For an instant, the beast seemed unable to comprehend how the assassin had crossed the intervening distance so quickly.

Then Aureleah activated Mark of Darkness.

A dark shimmer enveloped her Daggers as she drove both blades into the exposed portion of the Ratchyr’s forehead, where the coarse fur was thinnest.

The weapons penetrated with a wet squelch.

The creature released a piercing shriek, its enormous body convulsing as black blood streamed down its face. Its claws scraped desperately against the flagstones, and its wings thrashed against the air in a futile attempt to dislodge the attacker.

But Aureleah remained unmoved...

She withdrew her Daggers and repeated the motion, striking the same vulnerable area with merciless precision. The Ratchyr shrieked again, its movements growing increasingly erratic as she continued stabbing, refusing to grant it even a moment to recover.

Finally, the creature’s strength failed.

Its limbs buckled, and its enormous body collapsed onto the bloodstained floor. Then the shrieking ceased.

Black blood pooled beneath its head as Aureleah withdrew her Daggers, their blades dripping with ichor. The Rank Two leader lay motionless before her, its crimson eyes dimming as the last traces of life departed from its body.

And just like that, the first Ratchyr leader had died and in the hands of Rank One Etheryeans no less...