Chapter 645: [Event] [The Beauty And The Beast] [25] Time Out

"E–Elizabeth?!" I shouted, eyes wide.

What the hell is she doing?!

Her blade, gleaming and still slick with blood hovered mere inches above Amelia’s unconscious form. The girl lay still—completely unaware that her life was hanging by the thinnest of threads. If I’d arrived even a few seconds later, Elizabeth would’ve ended her. No hesitation. No remorse.

Elizabeth turned her head slowly, her crimson eyes locking onto mine.

"Killing her, Darling. Obviously," she said.

"Killing her?" I stepped forward, fists clenched. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She arched a brow, like I was the one being unreasonable. "We don’t know how to stop this, and if we hesitate any longer, that monster will wake up. You know that. Killing Amelia is the only logical solution left. It’s the surest way to prevent Behemoth’s resurrection."

I shook my head. "No. There has to be another way. The others will be here soon. Someone will know something."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "And if no one knows? If we’re too late and that thing wakes up?" Her voice dropped lower. "If it kills thousands... will you be able to live with that, Darling?"

I didn’t answer right away.

Amelia... She was innocent. Just a pawn caught in this cursed ritual. I couldn’t let her die—not like this. Not like some sacrificial lamb.

"She has nothing to do with this," I finally said, my voice strained. "She’s a victim. You can’t just kill someone who’s innocent."

Elizabeth tilted her head, her gaze turning curious. "Do you love her, too, Darling?" She asked.

"What?" I grimaced, caught off guard. "No. I don’t."

A sigh escaped her lips. "Darling..." she said, stepping closer, her sword still in hand. "Sometimes you have to dirty your hands. It’s not about good or evil—it’s about survival. If taking one life saves millions, is it really so wrong? Always choose the greater number."

My heart pounded against my ribs. "There must be some other way," I said again, firmer this time.

I couldn’t do that to John.

"If Behemoth rises and burns this land to ash," Elizabeth continued, "will you carry that weight on your shoulders? Will you take responsibility when the streets run red with blood?"

I had no answer. My silence spoke for me.

She stepped forward, slowly raising her free hand and cupping my cheek, her fingers cool and gentle. "You’re the only one I care about," she whispered. "But if that monster awakens... I know you’ll try to stop it. And I know you might die trying."

I looked at her.

I see it in her eyes—fear, but not for herself. For me.

"Two hundred years ago," I said quietly, "Quinn Victor Raven faced the same monster. And he defeated it."

Elizabeth nodded. "He did... but he was a Demigod. And he wasn’t alone. He had Monarchs fighting beside him."

"And we’re not alone either," I replied. "We’ll find another way. I believe in that."

For a moment, she said nothing. Then—without a word—Elizabeth lowered her sword, stepping back.

"Thank you," I said.

She gave a small shrug. "I did it for you, Darling," she said with a wistful smile. "My second grandfather...I think he was genuinely afraid I’d go through with it."

I glanced toward Nikolas, who stood ahead his arm already regenerating back. His eyes met mine for a brief second. So he’d been ready to intervene all along.

So it was true—killing Amelia might stop the resurrection

But that wasn’t an option.

Not for me.

"Elizabeth," Nikolas chuckled. "You look just like your mother now."

It was a dangerously flippant thing to say—especially considering he was the one who had murdered her mother. And her father, too.

Elizabeth’s expression hardened instantly, her features becoming cold and unreadable. Nikolas only laughed again.

"I didn’t mean to kill them," he said lightly. "But your mother was unwilling to hand you and your sister over. The Blood and Vessel of the Vampire Witch... it’s a treasure, you know. Deborah Dolphis could’ve done wonders with it."

"You can keep your fantasies to yourself, Nikolas," I snapped before Elizabeth could get a word in. "You’re nothing more than trash—a murderer who slaughtered his own brother’s son."

I didn’t wait for a reply. My feet moved on their own as I lunged forward.

Nikolas lifted his hand lazily, summoning a large, crimson mana circle in the air—but I didn’t slow down.

In a blur, Elizabeth darted past me. Her rapier gleamed as she raised it high, thrusting it directly into the center of the mana circle.

-BOOOOM!

A deafening blast echoed as her mana collided violently with Nikolas’s. The air cracked with mana. Nikolas staggered slightly, his hand still raised to maintain the summoning, but his eyes followed my movements calmly.

Then his other hand rose.

From within the now seven-layered mana circle, something monstrous emerged—a beast forged entirely of blood, massive and horned, its eyes glowing with murderous hunger.

What the hell is that?

I leapt back instinctively, but the beast was faster than it looked. In a flash, it twisted mid-air and clamped its fangs onto my arm.

"Ugh—!" I groaned, pain flaring as I felt my blood being drained in a chilling rush.

Nikolas smirked as if savoring the moment. With a flick of his wrist, the mana circle vanished—and in a blink, he reappeared right in front of Elizabeth. His hand shot out and seized her wrist, halting her next attack.

"What a shame," he said coldly, his free hand lifting to strike her.

But before his blow could fall, a blur of white streaked in from the side.

-CRACK!

Roda’s white wolf slammed into Nikolas, hitting him like a bolt of living fury and hurling him across the stone floor.

When he landed, dazed, he turned and his eyes caught something unexpected—a mirror reflecting his surprised expression.

And from that shattering surface—I came.

My blade, Trinity Nihil, swept in a silvery arc.

Nikolas ducked just in time, barely dodging a decapitating blow, but one of his horns didn’t escape. It flew through the air in a clean spiral, severed at the base.

His gaze went icy. With no warning, his hand plunged into the mirror’s remains—and grasped my arm.

"Shit—!"

The next second, I was yanked out from the mirror world like a fish on a hook. Before I could react, Nikolas slammed me hard into the ground.

"Ugh!" I coughed, blood splattering from my lips. Pain lanced up my spine.

But I reacted quickly.

I gritted my teeth and summoned Aegis with a flicker of mana. My shield flared into existence just as Nikolas’s hand came swinging toward me, glowing with lethal intent.

-BAM!!

My arm trembled violently, the weight of Aegis pressing down like a mountain. I could barely keep my shield steady. Nikolas’s strike had almost broken through—it wouldn’t take another.

But before he could land the finishing blow, a blur of motion streaked in.

Roda.

She sprang toward him with, her twin daggers flashing in her hands. The moment she landed, she launched into a flurry of slashes—fast, precise, relentless. Each blade arced toward a vital point.

Nikolas blocked and countered with supernatural speed, his body twisting and shifting to match her tempo, but something was off. Despite his skill, every one of Roda’s strikes was landing—cutting small but steady lines into his flesh. His clothes were already torn in several places, thin trails of blood trickling from shallow wounds.

He was surprised. Genuinely.

Roda was using her Prophetess ability again.

Damn it, I had warned her not to. The strain that power placed on her body—on her mind—it wasn’t something she could just shrug off. But clearly, she didn’t care.

Before Nikolas could push her back, Elizabeth joined the fray. She slipped into the fight, rapier in hand. She intercepted Nikolas just as he was shifting his stance, forcing him back a step.

Her blade darted forward, aiming straight for his back.

Nikolas twisted at the last second. The thrust barely missed.

With a growl of anger, he released a burst of crimson mana in all directions. The shockwave surged outward like a sonic boom, cracking the stone beneath our feet.

Roda was knocked back, her feet skidding across the ground, but Elizabeth held firm. She surged forward again, this time her rapier moving so fast I could hardly see it—just glints of silver and streaks of motion. Her expression changed, lips curving into a slight, feral smile. Crimson veins rose visibly along her pale face and neck, pulsing with mana.

She was going all in.

Nikolas’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t lift a hand this time—he simply conjured a massive mana circle above their heads, the runes burning with ominous red light.

It was a trap. Whatever spell that circle contained, it wouldn’t leave anything standing.

And yet, Elizabeth didn’t even flinch. She just kept thrusting her rapier with terrifying speed, heedless of the danger. Whether she hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care—I couldn’t tell. But either way, I had to stop her.

I launched forward and tackled her mid-step, yanking her clear from the circle’s radius. We hit the ground hard, tumbling across the stone floor before coming to a stop with her atop me.

"Don’t get too carried away, Elizabeth," I said, frowning, chest heaving as I glanced back toward Nikolas.

But before I could rise—

I felt her arms coil gently around my neck.

And then—pain.

Sharp fangs pierced into my neck.

"Ugh—!" I gasped, blood flooding from the bite in a warm, draining rush. My vision blurred for a second.

Elizabeth let out a soft moan, her cheeks visibly flushed. Her lips stayed latched onto my skin, drinking deep.

"Sorry, Darling~" She whispered sensually. She clung to me tighter, as if drawing strength from more than just my blood.

I gritted my teeth but didn’t push her away. I only held her more securely, cradling her body against mine.

"J-Just... take what you need," I muttered.

"If I really took what I need, Darling," Elizabeth whispered, her voice purring right against my ear, "I’d have to take all of you."

Her tongue flicked lightly along the wound she’d just made, sending a sharp chill down my spine.

Now wasn’t the time for this....

"Don’t get me excited," I muttered, more to myself than to her, struggling to keep my breathing steady.

A few meters away, Nikolas paused. His expression twisted into confusion just before he lunged straight toward us.

He never reached us as Roda slammed into him with a well-timed spinning kick, sending him skidding back across the stone floor like a sack of meat. She landed gracefully between us and him, twin daggers drawn again, her body trembling in exhaustion.

"Is that really the appropriate time to be doing that?!" She asked but even under her mask, I could tell she was blushing.

"She needed blood," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though the warmth at my neck and the smell of her scent were still making it hard to think clearly. I swallowed hard, doing everything I could to ignore the rising urge to sink my own teeth into her. I had to focus.

Elizabeth finally pulled away, her lips stained crimson. A thin string of blood and saliva still connected her to the puncture wound on my neck before it snapped.

She gazed up at me with those dangerous eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "Love you, Darling," she said, licking away the last trace of red.

I gave her a crooked smile and pushed myself upright. "Yeah, love you too."

A moment of uneasy calm settled—only to be broken by the deep, vibrating hum that filled the place. I turned my gaze toward the center, where Amelia lay suspended midair. Her body still twitched faintly, surrounded by that unnatural pull—like her life was being wrung out by invisible hands.

But the effect was slowing now.

The horns which had been floating above the Behemoth—had begun returning to its skull, reattaching themselves. The beast’s massive form pulsed as a black, oily substance oozed from its body, like its flesh was knitting itself back together.

"It’s resurrecting," Elizabeth said from behind me.

I looked back at her.

"But Amelia’s still alive," she added quickly, her gaze searching mine.

I nodded. "Yeah... I made the call. I don’t regret it."

John would have done the same if our roles were reversed.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

We all turned toward the cavern entrance.

Rodolf stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, with Ralf slung over one shoulder, bruised and unconscious.

His gaze landed on the grotesque form of the Behemoth, still pulsing, still slowly reawakening.

"Where’s Braham?" He asked, brows furrowed.

If it had been Braham instead of Nikolas... maybe we could have threatened him. Maybe he’d have reversed whatever ritual he bound Amelia to. But it wasn’t Braham. It was Nikolas—and he had no intention of undoing anything.

"We’re too late, Rodolf," I said quietly, fists trembling at my sides. My eyes were locked on the Behemoth’s twitching limbs.

Rodolf followed my gaze.

He froze.

Then his face paled.

"You’ve got to be kidding me..."