Chapter 130: The Hero Who Left Her Behind [Part 1]

Chapter 130. The Hero Who Left Her Behind [Part 1]

I raised my hand, preparing to sever the connections with my magic.

But before I could activate another skill, a silver flash crossed my vision. Theo had drawn his dagger. The blade glowed with pale green wind mana as he slashed through the strings attached to Chief Marr’s shoulders.

Several connections broke immediately. The chief’s body jerked, then collapsed against Theo. Apparently, that lovesick assistant wasn’t completely useless.

"Come on!" Theo grunted, hooking his arms beneath Chief Marr’s shoulders. He dragged the unconscious swordsman backward.

Unfortunately, the brides weren’t particularly enthusiastic about surrendering their favorite puppet. Three women raised their hands. More crimson strings shot toward the chief.

Theo twisted his dagger. A crescent of wind sliced through the incoming threads. Two broke. The third wrapped around Chief Marr’s ankle. Theo nearly lost his footing when the string tightened. He recovered before I intervened, stabbing his dagger into the thread and severing it with another burst of wind mana. Then he continued dragging the chief. One step. Another.

The crimson formation flickered beneath their feet.

The brides raised their hands again, but Theo was already moving, alternating between pulling Chief Marr and cutting whatever tried to bind him. His movements weren’t elegant. His breathing was ragged, his sleeves were torn, and his expression suggested he was reconsidering every decision that had brought him here. But he didn’t stop.

Finally, Chief Marr’s boots crossed the outermost circle.

The entire formation shuddered. Its crimson lines flickered once. Twice. Then the central spiral went dark.

"Good work, Theo."

The moment the formation lost its vessel, I released my control over the artificial eclipse. The enormous mass of darkness covering the moon began to unravel. But I wasn’t going to waste all that accumulated Forbidden Energy.

The darkness scattered across the sky before plunging through the opening above us.

Thousands of black fragments condensed into narrow blades. Their edges gleamed with violet light. I smiled. "Now, let’s redecorate."

The blades rained into the cave. Toward the floor. The walls. The stone pillars. Every surface containing the ritual’s inscriptions.

Dark blades pierced the ground, carving deep trenches through the crimson runes. Others swept horizontally across the walls, slicing through the hidden inscriptions beneath the remaining mud and dirt.

I didn’t need to destroy the entire cave. That would be rather stupid, considering we were still inside it. I only needed to break the connections.

A magic formation was a structure. Every rune had a purpose, every line carried mana, and every connection maintained the intended flow of magical energy. Destroy enough connections, and even the most sophisticated formation became a collection of meaningless scratches.

One of the outer circles exploded as its mana flow collapsed. Another cracked. Then another. The entire chamber trembled beneath the relentless assault.

Of course, the brides didn’t appreciate my artistic contribution.

All twelve turned toward me simultaneously, their eyes glowing crimson. Then, as though responding to an invisible command, they reached beneath their bridal gowns and pulled out daggers.

Without hesitation, they lunged toward me, their movements unnaturally synchronized. Their expressions remained completely blank, even as they charged across the shattered formation with murderous intent.

I watched them approach with mild disappointment. I understood the strategy. Their bodies were being controlled by manipulation spells, forcing them to attack regardless of their own safety. If I retaliated carelessly, I’d end up killing the very women I was trying to rescue.

Before the first bride could reach me, I raised my hand.

[Abyssal Formation Creation]

A massive violet-black formation spread beneath my feet, its intricate runes illuminating the ruined cave.

"Dispel!"

A wave of dark mana erupted outward, sweeping through the approaching brides. Their crimson eyes flickered. Their movements stopped. And the daggers slipped from their fingers, clattering against the stone floor.

[Mind Manipulation Spell Dispelled]

[Successful Dispels: 11]

Their bodies dropped onto the damaged stone floor, their bridal gowns spreading around them like pale flowers scattered across a graveyard.

The moment Theo saw the women collapse, he’d already released Chief Marr and rushed toward Elena.

"Elena!" He stumbled across the broken formation, his eyes fixed on the silver-blonde woman lying unconscious among the other brides.

I caught his wrist before he could reach her. Again.

Theo gasped and turned toward me, his expression shifting from surprise to confusion. "My lord?"

I didn’t answer.

My gaze remained fixed on Elena.

She lay motionless on the cold stone floor, her silver-blonde hair scattered around her face. Her white bridal gown was stained with dust, and her delicate fingers rested against the broken runes beneath her. She looked peaceful. Innocent. Like a beautiful bride who had simply fallen asleep before her wedding.

-Ba-thump!

"My lord?" Theo whispered. His voice trembled. "Let me go. She’s right there."

I tightened my grip. "Theo..." My voice came out quieter than I intended. "She’s not your Elena."

Another memory struck me. And this time, it didn’t come in fragments. It came all at once.

The Holy City was burning. I could hear the screams. The crashing buildings. The desperate cries of soldiers trying to hold the defensive lines. Countless undead swarmed through the streets, their rotting bodies wrapped in dark mana. They were the Dark Lord’s soldiers. And they refused to stay dead.

Cut off their arms, and they kept crawling. Destroy their legs, and they dragged themselves forward. Even decapitation wasn’t always enough.

The five heroes had been fighting for hours. Darius’s armor was covered in blood. Garr’s massive weapon had chipped from striking too many reinforced bones. Raven moved between the ruined buildings, eliminating enemies that threatened the civilians. Elia’s healing magic barely kept pace with the wounded.

And Rey...

Rey was exhausted. His robes were torn. Blood ran down his temple. His mana reserves were almost empty.

Yet his Mana Link remained active, continuously supplying the others with what little power he could recover. He was their lifeline. The one person who couldn’t afford to collapse.

Then he saw her...

A young girl lying beside a shattered wall. Silver-blonde hair. Blue eyes. A seashell hairpin. Blood soaked the stones beneath her.

She raised one trembling hand toward him. Her lips moved. "Help..."

Rey stopped. He immediately recognized her wounds. She was dying.

He took a step toward her.

"Rey!" Raven caught his arm. "We have to move!"

"That girl—"

"We’re out of mana potions!"

Rey looked back at her. The girl was still reaching for him. He tried pulling away. "I can—"

"REY!" Darius barked from farther down the street. "KEEP MOVING! WE NEED YOUR MANA!"

Another wave of undead surged through the barricades.

Garr grabbed Rey by the shoulder. "Come on!"

Rey struggled. Only briefly. Because he knew what would happen if his Mana Link broke. The other heroes were exhausted. Their remaining strength depended on him. If they fell, thousands more would die. So he allowed Garr to pull him away.

And the last thing he saw... Was the girl’s face. Her sadness and disappointment. The heroes had come. The people who were supposed to save everyone. Yet none of them had saved her.

They won the battle. Eventually. The undead were destroyed, the remaining Dark Lord’s soldiers retreated, and the Holy City survived another day.

The people celebrated. The soldiers cheered. The five heroes were praised. But Rey didn’t celebrate. He returned to that ruined street. Alone. His mana reserves were completely exhausted. His wounds hadn’t healed. Every step hurt. Still, he searched.

He overturned broken stones, examined collapsed walls, and checked the bodies that hadn’t yet been collected. Perhaps she’d survived. Perhaps someone had rescued her. Perhaps...

Nothing.

He couldn’t find her. Not alive. Nor dead. Then he noticed something beneath the rubble. A small seashell hairpin. Covered in dried blood.

Rey picked it up. He stared at it for a long time. And for reasons even he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. Later, he buried the hairpin beneath a tree near the Light Temple.

There was no grave. Just a small piece of a girl he’d failed to save. He’d hoped that, wherever she was, she could finally find peace.

The memory faded.

I found myself standing inside the ruined cave again.

Theo was staring at me in confusion.

I clenched my jaw. "That woman..." I said slowly, each word heavier than the last, "is the Dark Lord’s subordinate wearing Elena’s skin."

Theo went completely still. And for the first time that night, I wished I hadn’t been the one to tell him.

"You’re lying." His voice was barely a whisper. Then he shook his head violently. "You’re lying! That’s Elena! I know her!"

"I wish I were." Those words tasted bitter.

I turned toward the unconscious woman. Her silver-blonde hair lay scattered across the stone, and her chest rose and fell with a rhythm that looked perfectly natural.

[Abyssal Eye]

My vision darkened. The magical layers surrounding Elena’s body peeled away, exposing something writhing beneath her skin.

[Target Identified]

[Name: Abyssal Corpse Parasite]

[Type: Parasitic Undead]

[Rank: A (Damaged)]

[Status: Dormant]

[Host Condition: Deceased]

[Host Preservation: Active]

The parasite wasn’t controlling a living woman. It was keeping a corpse functioning. And judging by the damage to its magical core, it had been doing so for years.