Chapter 545: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [84] Amael Olphean VS Durathiel Ruvelion

"Ugh!!" A muffled groan, filled with pain, tore through the air as Lykhor clutched the raw stump where his right arm used to be. Blood pulsed from the wound, splattering onto the wooden deck. His breathing came in ragged, uneven gasps as he yanked off the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his mouth, spitting out another mouthful of crimson. Even in his state he was still glaring at me.

Around us, the Utopian Knights froze, their attention snapping toward me. Their hands instinctively went to their weapons, but hesitation flickered in their eyes.

I didn’t spare them a second glance. Instead, I turned my gaze to Annabelle.

"Anna, get some rest," I said.

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She nodded wordlessly before vanishing into thin air.

Next, I called another name.

"Samara."

In an instant, she was beside me. A day had passed since I called her, and now she was back by my side.

"Yes," she answered.

I stepped forward landing on the deck. My gaze swept over the Utopian Knights. They would only get in my way.

"Get rid of all of them," I ordered.

Samara, still perched atop the boat’s upper deck, slowly raised her hand.

-BOOM!

A thunderous explosion shattered the moment as an invisible force struck the Knights in rapid succession. Some were hurled overboard, their bodies vanishing beneath the waves. Others slammed against the boat’s railing, their armor crumpling like paper beneath the sheer force of the unseen assault.

I ignored them. My focus was elsewhere.

Alvara stood a short distance away, clutching Bryelle in her arms.

Bryelle’s small frame was limp, blood soaking through the fabric of her clothes, a deep wound carved into her chest where Lykhor’s blade had pierced her. My expression darkened. An innocent who couldn’t even stand on her own had been dragged into this war.

But she was still breathing. Barely.

She had two royal bloodlines coursing through her veins—perhaps that was the only reason she was still alive. But even that wouldn’t be enough. If I didn’t act soon, she wouldn’t last much longer.

Before I could move, a shift in the air made me turned toward Lykhor.

His remaining hand gripped his sword, and with a fierce snarl, he swung, unleashing an arc of wind slashing toward me.

I lifted a hand.

"Reflect."

A shimmering mirror materialized in front of me.

-BOOM!

The attack rebounded, slamming into Lykhor’s already battered body. He staggered back with a grunt, barely keeping himself upright.

He didn’t get a chance to recover.

In a blink, I was in front of him.

The sword in my hand flashed.

His other arm flew through the air, severed at the shoulder.

Lykhor’s eyes went wide as he let out another scream—his torn mouth stretching open in an expression of agony. Blood poured freely, staining his armor, his body trembling from shock.

I silenced him before he could utter another sound.

My sword drove straight through his open mouth, piercing the back of his throat and out the other end.

Lykhor’s eyes bulged. His body convulsed.

And then—stillness.

I wanted to make him suffer more.

But I didn’t have time.

I turned away from Lykhor’s twitching body and lifted my gaze.

A familiar presence pressed against my senses, heavily.

The Sin of Sloth.

"You came back to me," Durathiel spoke.

A smirk curled at my lips. Feeling his presence this close sent a rush of exhilaration through me.

"I showed a rather pathetic display back then," I laughed, yanking my sword free from Lykhor’s throat with a wet, sickening squelch. His lifeless body crumpled onto the deck, blood pooling around him. "I had to remedy it."

Durathiel landed in front of me, the wooden planks beneath his feet creaking under his weight. His silver eyes gleamed as he looked down at me with restrained contempt.

"This time, I won’t let you escape," he said. "Or are you planning to call on some Goddess to save you again?"

I scoffed, rolling my shoulders as I I threw away the ordinary sword and took out Trinity Nihil.

"I won’t. I alone will be plenty enough to kill you."

"A fight between Sin Holders can only end with one alive and one dead." Durathiel raised his hand, and in a flash of light, a long silver sword materialized in his grasp. It was made from the Holy Branches.

I didn’t hesitate.

Tapping into my Raven Arts, I enhanced all my senses to their absolute limit. Every detail sharpened—the faintest shift in the air, the subtle twitch of Durathiel’s fingers, the barely perceptible shifts in mana around us.

For a brief moment, we stood still.

Then, we both kicked off the ground at the same time.

-BOOOOM!!

Our blades met in a violent clash, sending a shockwave of raw mana exploding outward. The force rattled the boat, splintering parts of the railing.

Durathiel’s mana surge like a flood.

I gritted my teeth as I was forced back, boots skidding across the deck.

Before I could recover, he was already closing in, his sword gleaming as he prepared another strike.

I leapt over him, twisting midair, and pointed Trinity Nihil at him.

"Ring of Vysindra."

A blazing ring of fire shot forward, slicing through the air with scorching heat.

Durathiel reacted instantly, swinging his sword and conjuring a six-layered mana circle in the blink of an eye. The barrier absorbed the attack, its green patterns flickering under the strain.

I smirked.

With a subtle tilt of my sword, I gave the order.

The ring expanded.

-BOOM!

The explosion sent Durathiel hurtling backward, crashing through the air before he plummeted off the boat.

I didn’t wait.

Kicking off the deck, I launched myself after him, wind whipping against my face as I descended toward him.

"You bastards started a damn war!" I growled, swinging Trinity Nihil with full force.

Midair, Durathiel twisted his body, dodging the strike. The blade carved through empty space where his neck had been just a fraction of a second ago.

In the next instant, he was beside me.

His foot shot out in a powerful kick aimed at my ribs.

-BAM!!

I twisted, angling Trinity Nihil just in time to block—but even so, the sheer force of the impact sent me hurtling backward. My body crashed through the air like a comet before I managed to right myself, skidding to a halt in a nearby boat with mana stabilizing my momentum.

Durathiel hovered before me.

"War was necessary for my people’s future," he said.

And then, he came at me again. Fast.

"Shut up."

I clenched my grip around Trinity Nihil glaring up at him.

"Anathemas Fire."

The words left my lips, and behind me, a massive seven-layered mana circle materialized, radiating a blinding purple light. Heat surged outward in violent waves, the sheer intensity melting the deck beneath my feet. The wooden planks blackened and curled, dissolving into molten slag.

A rippling heat spread in every direction. The Utopian knights nearby screamed as their armor softened, liquefying against their flesh. One by one, they threw themselves overboard, desperate to escape the unbearable heat, but even the sea offered little solace—their scorched bodies still sizzled as they plunged into the water.

Durathiel seeing this lifted his sword. A new mana circle flared into existence—this one with eight layers, glowing a unique greenish hue.

"A mere human can never reach a High Elf’s potential with mana," he said.

The air around him trembled. Then, from within the circle, a colossal being emerged.

A creature of howling wind.

It unfurled its elongated limbs, its shape eerily humanoid yet unnaturally slim. Its wings, jagged and translucent, stretched wide, generating a storm with every beat. Long, curved claws spun at dizzying speed, sharp enough to carve through steel.

Then, it opened its mouth.

There were no teeth. Only a gaping void.

A sudden pull ripped through the battlefield as it inhaled, siphoning mana from the air at an alarming rate. I felt the mana being drained of the surroundings at high speed.

Narrowing my eyes, I poured even more power into my mana circle.

A dark purple claw slowly pushed its way through the spell’s threshold, its form wreathed in raging fire.

"Rings of Vysindra."

I conjured four more rings before my circle, their glowing edges vibrating in fire.

For a brief second, silence fell.

Then, we unleashed everything.

-BOOOOM!!

The moment our attacks collided, an explosion ripped through the sky.

A blinding, searing light.

A shockwave detonated outward, hurling me backward like a ragdoll. I barely registered the sensation of my body hitting the sea before I was skidding across its surface, tumbling violently until—

-BAM!!!

I slammed into the side of another boat, my back slamming against solid wood with bone-jarring force.

"Ugh…" I groaned, wincing as I struggled.

Before I could even register the pain, I activated Samara’s ability.

In a blur, I propelled myself upward, flipping onto the deck of another boat.

The moment my feet touched solid ground, I activated Anathema’s Fire once more.

Purple flames surged over my body, burning away every drop of seawater clinging to my skin. My long hair dried in an instant.

I lifted my gaze.

Durathiel stood on the opposite end of the ship. His clothes were singed, parts of his elegant tunic charred and frayed. Despite that, his expression remained not perturbed.

"Why are you fighting?" He asked.

I froze for a brief second.

Why?

My fingers tightened around Trinity Nihil.

"To protect my people," I answered.

"I am doing the same," Durathiel said. "There is no difference between us."

Anger flared in my chest.

"Don’t compare me to you," I sneered angrily. I’m not dragging innocents into this."

I took a step forward, eyes burning.

"What did Bryelle ever do to you?! Was she also a threat to your people?!"

"Alvara is necessary to nurture the Seed. If she had accepted, nothing would have happened," Durathiel said, as if his actions were perfectly justified.

I let out a snort. "So you’re planning to keep Alvara in Utopia just to feed your damn tree?"

"She will be free. She will save my people. And I will treat her well." Durathiel replied.

Silver particles shimmered around the blade like drifting stardust.

The Sin of Sloth.

Before I could react, Durathiel vanished. A gust of wind followed, and then—

-WHOOSH!!

A wide arc of silver light sliced toward me at terrifying speed.

Instinct took over. I raised Trinity Nihil just in time—

-BAM!

Pain exploded through my body as I was sent hurtling backward. My vision blurred, and before I knew it—

I slammed straight into a familiar boat, my body colliding with the cabin quarters, shattering windows on impact.

Coughing, I spat blood onto the deck, forcing myself to stand despite the ringing in my ears. But Durathiel wasn’t going to wait—

He was already there.

I barely had time to register his approaching figure before launching myself toward him, swinging Trinity Nihil with all my might.

—BOOM!

A powerful shockwave erupted as our weapons clashed, sending tremors across the ocean. This time, I didn’t get thrown back. I held my ground.

Durathiel moved faster. His sword glowed with Sloth as he slashed at frightening speed, each strike heavier, faster—pushing me to my limits. My arms screamed in pain from the sheer force of our exchange, but I gritted my teeth, dodging and deflecting with pure instinct.

The boats beneath us groaned as the sea churned violently under the force of our exchanges.

"You’re nothing but a hypocritical bastard!" I growled, putting all my strength into my next swing.

Durathiel’s sword met mine in a brutal clash—but this time, he wasn’t attacking.

He was defending.

His eyes widened ever so slightly in realization.

I gritted my teeth but I could only smirk widely seeing that expression on his face.

I raised my hand—and summoned Wrath.

Purple particles flared to life around me, pulsing around me. The moment Durathiel saw them, his reaction was immediate.

With again astounding speed, he shifted his stance.

A sharp kick slammed into my side, knocking the wind out of me.

Before I could recover—

-SPURT!

A hot, searing pain ripped through my left arm. Blood sprayed across the deck as my limb was severed, tumbling to the ground with a sickening thud.

For a moment, all I could do was breathe heavily, staring at the stump where my arm had been.

Durathiel landed a few feet away, his expression cold and again looking down on me.

"I told you already. Not to stick your lowly nose in others’ business."

A shudder ran through me.

It wasn’t pain.

It was something else—something exhilarating.

Wrath pulsed through my veins, drowning out everything else.

I laughed. A deep snarky laugh that came from the very depths of my being.

"This—" I exhaled, running my bloodied hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face, "—is exactly my damn business."

Reaching down, I picked up my severed arm and pressed it against my stump. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned Fate.

A dull, numbing sensation took over as the limb reattached itself, the pain insignificant compared to the surge of Wrath flooding my head realising all my thoughts.

But none of that mattered.

Not right now.

My gaze shifted to Alvara. She stood in the distance, clutching Bryelle in her arms. And at this moment, with Wrath sharpening every raw emotion I had buried deep inside—I could see it clearly.

What I felt.

What I wanted.

Slowly, I turned back to Durathiel, my eyes narrowing.

I wouldn’t let him take her.

I wouldn’t let him touch her.

My grip tightened on Trinity Nihil.

"Alvara is mine."