The Eldest Daughter Walks Down The Flower Path - Chapter 289
Chapter 289
Translator: Yonnee
—
With a shout, he threw another black orb.
Now that Radis understood how the spell worked, she rushed forward and sliced the orb in half.
Golden vines wrapped around the split orb, and the Abyssal Flame within flared a bright red before being neutralized.
Seeing this unfold before his eyes, the White Mask was beside himself.
His face, hidden beneath the mask, flushed red, and his eyes bulged as if they would tear open.
He screamed,
“No!”
To him, the Abyssal Flame was a miracle, the very essence of destruction.
That black substance completely ignored the basic principles of magic, which required mana to be driven by spells.
It was a potent poison, capable of ending this era of peace with a single drop.
The White Mask continued to pull out black orbs, hurling them one after another.
“Impossible, this is impossible!”
Before this overwhelming power, everything was equal.
Soon, the emperor would wage war with the Abyssal Flame.
The strongest weapons forged of steel, the massive fortresses built by the weak to protect themselves, the powerful soldiers, and even the rulers who dominated the world—everything would vanish without leaving a trace.
The foolish creations of the gods had no idea of the darkness that was about to engulf them.
When the Abyssal Flame spread across the land, consuming it, and the wails of insignificant beings filled the air, true despair would awaken.
Hestia, who had once been a steward and God’s agent, would be stained with darkness and judge this world full of arrogance.
The White Mask had been waiting for that moment.
But this couldn’t be happening.
“This can’t be happening!”
The crazed White Mask was screaming when a black-hooded figure grabbed his shoulder.
“Stop! You must stop!”
The White Mask, futilely fumbling through his now empty pockets, turned sharply to glare at the black hood.
His bloodshot eyes, visible beneath the mask, were a stark contrast against the white of his eyeballs.
The black hood shouted at him,
“The Abyssal Flame isn’t working, and the opponent is a master-level swordswoman! If the gap between you two closes, it’s over. You must retreat!”
The White Mask cried out,
“I too am a mage! The greatest mage of the Magic Tower! I can fight! A mere master, I—”
The black hood pointed forward.
Before them, framed against the darkening forest, was a scene that looked like a painting.
Radis’s sword moved gracefully like the stroke of an artist’s brush, weaving golden vines.
The brilliant golden vines, alive and moving on their own, swallowed the Abyssal Flame.
The Abyssal Flame, now consumed, scattered as bright crimson embers in all directions.
The interplay of golden vines, black flames, and crimson embers decorated the air in a stunning display.
As he watched this, the black hood muttered,
“She is a Steward.”
His voice trembled with deep defeat.
“No spell will work against her.”
Stepping forward, he continued,
“It’s always the same. The gods protect those who submit to them and block the path of those who seek the truth.”
A bitter sneer appeared on the black hood’s lips.
“But this time will be different. Fortunately, that Steward hasn’t fully awakened yet. Everything must proceed without delay. For that, you must survive.”
The black hood pulled out a teleportation scroll from his robes and placed it into the White Mask’s hand.
The White Mask, in a daze, mumbled,
“Does this mean… I’ve lost?”
As he tore the scroll in the White Mask’s hand, the black hood said,
“Not yet. Retreat for now— For victor… guh!”
But as he spoke, a jet-black blade pierced through the chest of the black hood.
Blood gushed from his mouth and chest.
Bright red droplets splattered across the White Mask’s face.
Just as the White Mask opened his mouth to say something, his figure vanished, as if erased.
Radis frowned, muttering,
“I missed him.”
The black hood, pierced through the chest, collapsed to his knees.
With Regia pressed to his throat, Radis asked,
“Any last words?”
The black hood coughed up blood and laughed.
“It would be best if you didn’t show your little sister such a gruesome sight.”
Radis looked up.
Jurich was sitting atop the horse the White Mask had been riding, trembling.
Radis clicked her tongue and said,
“Jurich, close your eyes.”
Jurich clung to the horse’s neck, burying her face into its mane.
Want to read more? Advanced chapters are available on Patreon! (for selected novels only)
≪ Discord ≫
≪ Novel Updates ≫
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
