Chapter 649: [Event] [The Beauty And The Beast] [29] Against Behemoth

I pulled myself to my feet, brushing the dust off my coat, and offered a hand to Elizabeth. "You sure took your sweet time," I said, hoisting her up.

"The civilians are our top priority," Brian replied.

Yeah, I couldn’t really argue with that. As long as they got the people out safely from this side of the city, it was a win—at least for now.

But it didn’t mean the situation was under control.

I turned my eyes toward the Behemoth—still massive, still terrifying, and now facing away from us. From this distance, I could still hear its snarls and the crackling of mana discharging violently through the air.

The knights were holding it.

"It’s not enough," I muttered. "You’re going to need the entire damn army."

"We’re bringing everyone we can," Brian said. "They’re already en route."

I glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "And do you actually have a plan? Because unless someone resurrected Quinn Victor Raven overnight, you’re going in blind."

"We’ve called on Duncan Tepes and Lazarus Raven," Brian answered.

I scoffed. "You’ve got better odds of slaying that thing by accident than getting help from either of those two."

Brian’s eyes narrowed at me.

"Look, if you want a chance—just a sliver of one—you need to take out its horns first. You remember what Quinn did. Cut those off and its power drops significantly."

"We know that," Brian said, now turning his attention to both me and Elizabeth. "But we can’t pull it off without support. We need strong people... people like you."

I gave a humorless laugh. "You’ve got some nerve, Professor. Asking me to bail out a country that won’t even let me cross its borders in two weeks’ time—because you banished me."

"If you don’t want to help, that’s your choice," he said simply. Then he turned to Elizabeth. "Elizabeth Tepes. What about you?"

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. Her hand wrapped around my arm. "I’ll follow whatever Darling decides."

Brian’s face didn’t move, but I could almost see the grimace etched behind that stoic mask of his.

Before I could say another word, a distant roar erupted—followed by the cheer of knights echoing down the ruined street.

I stepped out of the crumbling house and squinted toward the battlefield. A single white dot danced like a flame against the backdrop of the Behemoth’s monstrous bulk.

"Roda..." I whispered, recognizing her right away.

That reckless idiot.

"She’s going to get herself killed..." I muttered, clenching my fists as purple fire began to crackle along my right arm. "She doesn’t listen to a damn word. What’s the point if she ends up dead?"

Beside me, Elizabeth tilted her head slightly. "Do you want me to make sure she never disobeys you again, Darling?"

Your suggestion is scary, Elizabeth.

"Let’s not go that far," I said quickly, waving it off. "Right now, I need your help. I can handle the horns—but I need her distracted, weakened. Can you do that?"

Elizabeth smiled with serene confidence. "Leave it to me, Darling."

She closed her eyes and stopped in her tracks.

I didn’t wait for her.

With fire surging from every pore, I launched myself forward, straight toward the Behemoth.

Purple flames erupted around me.

I gritted my teeth, eyes scanning the chaos unfolding before me. We needed help—desperately. Victor at the very least. I wasn’t going to make it through this fight with only Elizabeth at my side.

As for the Demigods... I didn’t even bother hoping for Lazarus. That bastard wouldn’t lift a finger unless it served his own agenda. But Duncan? Maybe. Maybe he’d come for the sake of his granddaughters. I couldn’t count on it though.

For now, it was just us.

"Anathema’s Fire," I whispered under my breath.

A faint flicker responded as a glowing ring of violet flame materialized above my outstretched palm. The fire crackled wildly, growing hotter, brighter, as I poured more and more mana into it.

Behemoth’s eyes—if you could call those burning pits eyes—snapped toward me.

Good. I needed its attention.

I raised my hand, and the mana flared. A massive seven-layered circle formed in the air.. The flaming ring expanded, then blasted forward like a shot from a cannon.

The Behemoth reacted fast, raising its arm in defense. The ring struck true—and detonated.

A burst of purple fire erupted across its forearm, licking at its thick hide. It snarled and stumbled back, pain twisting its monstrous face.

Around us, the knights erupted into cheers, rallying and launching attack after attack. Bolts of mana, elemental spells—they all rained down on the Behemoth like a furious storm. But even with all that, its skin—like iron hide—barely dented.

This wasn’t enough.

With a grunt, I summoned Trinity Nihil into my hand. I was about to invoke Fate—but before I could channel it, I caught a blur in the corner of my eye.

"Roda, don’t you dare—!"

Too late.

She leapt like a lightning bolt, her form cutting through the air with the ferocity of a wild beast.

Straight at the Behemoth.

"Dammit!" I cursed, gathering what little white sand I could and flinging myself after her.

Roda hurtled toward the monster, twin daggers drawn, trailing silver light. She crashed into its chest like a meteor, both blades plunging deep into its flesh.

Black blood sprayed into the air, thick and steaming.

But even as she landed the hit, her face twisted in pain.

She didn’t bounce off—she dropped.

Behemoth roared, swinging its massive arm in a wide arc to crush her mid-fall.

I flashed between them, catching Roda in my arms an instant before impact. With one arm holding her tight, I raised Trinity Nihil and aimed point-blank at the Behemoth’s face.

My whole body screamed with fatigue. My hands trembled. My mana reserves were running dry, and even the vials weren’t helping anymore. My stamina was shot, muscles on the verge of collapse.

But I wasn’t done yet.

"Hollow Spear!" I roared, jamming the blade forward.

-BOOOM!

A spear of condensed white sand erupted from the tip of Trinity Nihil, slicing through the air.

Behemoth reacted, lifting its palm to shield itself.

Too slow.

The spear slammed into its hand with a crunch, driving deep into its flesh.

"RAARGHHH!!!" It growled, staggering.

We hit the ground hard, dust kicking up around our boots. I gently lowered Roda and turned on her with an exasperated glare.

"Would you stop jumping around like a damn cat?" I snapped. "You’re supposed to be a wolf, remember?"

She grimaced, but her single visible eye glared up at me.

"We have to do something," she said breathing hard.

I gasped for breath, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I know."

-BOOOOM!

The ground trembled beneath our feet as an explosion echoed across the battlefield.

Roda and I turned sharply toward the source—and there she was.

Elizabeth.

She was back in the fight.

Her entire figure was engulfed in a crimson glow—blood or mana, I couldn’t even tell anymore. The two had become indistinguishable on her. She moved like a princess of war, blurring through the air at a speed that made even vampires look sluggish.

No, her speed reminded me actually of Duncan Tepes.

She wasn’t just fast—she was untouchable.

Her rapier danced like lightning, drawing black blood from the Behemoth with every thrust. Not a single counterattack landed on her. She weaved through them all, each motion fluid and precise.

For a second, everyone just stopped and stared.

Knights, even me and Roda—completely stunned by the sight unfolding before us.

Elizabeth looked like exactly the Witch of Valachia, the label she earned at twelve years old. Her black hair and pale skin were splattered in thick black blood, leaving only the vibrant crimson of her eyes and the curve of her blood-red lips visible.

"I... I didn’t know Elizabeth was this strong," Roda murmured beside me, her voice tinged in awe.

I nodded slightly. "You never got to see the real her," I said quietly. "Not until now."

But then I glanced down at Roda and frowned.

Her face was pale. Too pale.

Her breathing was shallow, shoulders trembling. That reckless stunt earlier had drained more from her than she was letting on.

"Roda... you shouldn’t fight anymore," I said.

"I’m fine," she insisted, pushing herself up forcing a smile. "I’ll fight."

I reached out, catching her arm before she could move away. "You’re not fine. You look like a ghost."

"I–I’m fine, Edward," she repeated, trying to reassure me—but it didn’t work. Not even close.

I sighed and shook my head. "Alright, but listen. I have a plan. But you have to promise me something—don’t use your Prophetess powers."

She blinked at me for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Alright. What’s the plan?"

I explained it quickly. It wasn’t elaborate or clever—it didn’t need to be. If she could just help keep the Behemoth distracted alongside Elizabeth, I’d handle the rest.

"You sure you can do it?" I asked, searching her expression.

Roda’s hidden face tilted slightly. But I could see the grin behind her mask. "Count on me."

"Good."

I turned and faced the scattered remnants of the knight squads, raising my voice loud.

"EVERYONE! AIM FOR THE EYES! That’s its weakness!"

I might’ve lied—but desperation was a powerful motivator.

"Huh?! For real?!" One of the knights shouted in disbelief.

I glared at him. "Do I look like I’m joking right now?!"

They didn’t hesitate after that. Maybe it was the blood on my clothes. Maybe it was the way I stood. Either way, they bought it—and began firing everything they had at Behemoth’s head.

Caught between the onslaught and Elizabeth’s relentless assault, the creature flailed and roared. Elizabeth shifted her aim lower, striking at the chest instead to avoid the sudden friendly fire—adapting without missing a beat.

I slipped out of the chaos and onto the nearest rooftop, drawing Khryselakatos from my back.

The air around me shimmered as I poured a heavy surge of mana into the bow. It grew—longer, thicker, more ornate—until it looked like something carved by a god. I conjured a single massive arrow—pure energy in the shape of a jagged lance.

"Anathema’s Fire. Rings of Five."

Five rings of Vysindra materialized around the arrow, swirling with violent speed. The entire projectile began to glow—a fusion of amber and dark purple light.

I drew the string back, feeling every muscle in my arms scream in protest.

Amber slits formed in my eyes as something inside me stirred. My vision sharpened. Scales crept across my skin. My arms trembled from the strain—but I didn’t stop.

I focused.

And fired.

The arrow tore through the air like a comet, slicing the sky with terrifying speed. And yet Behemoth sensed it—its monstrous gaze flicked toward the incoming projectile as it instinctively thrust out its right hand to catch it.

-SPURT!

Too late.

The arrow punched clean through the palm with brutal efficiency, crimson splattering as it kept going. But that was just the beginning.

In the same instant, Roda had already moved. No—launched. She blurred forward with the blistering velocity of a wolf enhanced beyond natural limits, closing in on the Behemoth’s left leg. Her daggers gleamed in her hands as her form began to shift mid-motion.

Her snowy white hair lengthened, her tail burst forth behind her in a silver blur, and her pupils narrowed into fierce slits. Her already sharp features grew wilder, her furrowed brow deepening as the pure prana inside her surged.

She didn’t just look like a wolf.

She looked like royalty among beasts—majestic, deadly, transcendent.

This... was the apex of a werewolf’s bestial form. Not some mindless transformation. This was Roda at her most terrifyingly graceful.

The blades of her twin daggers shimmered with radiant light, stretching unnaturally as they absorbed her overwhelming Prana—concentrated, pulsing, lethal. Even Behemoth, despite its sheer size and brute strength, felt the threat and instinctively glanced downward.

She was almost there.

I could see her blood staining her lips, her body shaking slightly as she coughed—yet she didn’t slow. Not even a bit. Her momentum, her killing intent, and the surge of Prana around her remained undiminished.

Behemoth, alarmed, lashed out with its other massive arm toward her.

But I was ready.

Another arrow—thicker and heavier—whistled through the air and slammed into its wrist, knocking the hand off course and sparing Roda from being swatted like a fly.

"RAAAAGHH!!!" Behemoth howled, its deep roar vibrating the earth.

It opened its jagged maw wide, summoning a torrent of Prana at its throat. I knew that glow—it was preparing to unleash a Prana Ray. Roda wouldn’t reach the leg in time.

But then a streak of crimson streaked across the sky, faster than thought.

Elizabeth.

She stood calmly on one of the Behemoth’s massive fangs, balanced like a dancer defying gravity. She leveled her rapier straight down the creature’s throat.

"Blood Arts," she whispered coldly. "Black Breath."

-BOOOOM!

A torrent of black blood erupted from her blade, morphing into a storm of countless blades, each laced with her blood arts. They slashed and tore through the inside of the Behemoth’s mouth, making use of the very blood it had already lost.

The Behemoth recoiled with a strangled grunt, wounded—but not finished.

Roda wasn’t either.

Her figure blurred again, then reappeared directly at the Behemoth’s massive left leg. She crossed her daggers in a clean X, Prana spiraling upward from the tips like twin hurricanes.

And then she vanished.

-SPURT!

-BOOOOM!

A cross-shaped flash of pure white light erupted at the Behemoth’s ankle, followed by a deafening shockwave that ripped through the battlefield. The pressure alone knocked several knights off their feet.

When the light faded, the Behemoth’s left foot was no longer there.

Cleanly severed.

The towering beast howled in agony as it staggered back, struggling to find balance, its massive bulk teetering.

That was my cue.

I launched myself into the air, wind howling in my ears as I stretched out my hand.

"Fate," I called.

The white sand answered.

It swirled and churned in a tight spiral, coalescing into a trembling blade in my outstretched palm. It was still unstable—half-formed—but the shape was enough.

I could work with this.

Gritting my teeth, I infused the weapon with Wrath.

A surge of rage-laced energy coursed into the blade—and through me. I felt the bones in my right arm creak and crack under the strain. Pain flared like fire beneath my skin, but I didn’t scream.

I couldn’t afford to.

Using Samara’s ability, I amplified my speed once more and vanished from sight.

By the time the Behemoth glanced up, I was already above its head.

And then—I struck.

-BOOOM!

A burst of purple Wrath exploded outward from the impact. The shockwave shattered windows in nearby ruins. A massive black horn, once part of the Behemoth’s skull, spiraled into the air and rocketed backward—piercing through a half-collapsed building a hundred meters away like a divine spear.