prynovel Chapter 185 Heroic! Just! Bright!
Chapter 185 Heroic! Just! Bright!
Chapter 185 Heroic! Just! Bright!
The body, pierced by chains of shadow and suspended in mid-air, resembled a dried-up specimen, its last breath of life extinguished.
Her once-brilliant blonde hair had become dry and dull, and her skin had lost all its luster and elasticity, clinging tightly to her bones and outlining a heart-wrenching silhouette.
Those golden eyes that once burned with fiery heat are now two empty, lifeless holes, reflecting the twisted runes on the Spire of Sori and the terrified, desperate faces of their companions below.
Pure and immense energy—mixed with the essence of the soul—of extreme pain, shattered faith, and ultimate despair—surged like a tide along those dark chains toward the unknown distance.
Nia watched all this expressionlessly, his staff hanging slightly lowered, its tip glowing warm and pure, a stark contrast to the ruthless betrayal he had just carried out.
Hick's will echoed in his mind, both an approval and a cold reminder: Clean up the scene, leave only a few behind, your identity must not be exposed.
This supplementary instruction, like a precise program, instantly overwrote the initial command that might have existed in Nia's mind—the command to silence everyone. The murderous intent in his eyes tightened slightly, then became even colder and—selective.
His gaze, slowly and with an undeniable air of authority, turned to his teammates who had come with him and were now frozen in place.
The young wizards' faces drained of color, their pupils dilated with extreme fear. They had witnessed their captain's betrayal, heard terrifying secrets that defied their understanding, and now felt the undisguised, predatory scrutiny in those cold eyes.
"Nia—" A team member's voice trembled, and he instinctively took a step back, his staff shaking so badly he could barely hold it. "You—what you just said—isn't true, is it? Srian, she—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
Nia didn't even give him a chance to finish speaking.
There were no warnings.
The magnificent staff that had just finished off Silian was raised once more, the movement fluid and precise to the extreme. The staff no longer emitted dark, shadowy energy, but rather an extremely concentrated, intensely white beam of purifying light—pure power of light, yet carrying an absolute zero chill and destructive force!
"For eternal peace." Nia's voice was flat and emotionless, as if she were reading a predetermined verdict.
call out-!
The blazing white beam of light instantly pierced through the chest of the member who had spoken!
There was no scream, not even a moment to show shock. The moment the beam struck the team member's body, it was like a snowflake thrown into a furnace. From the point of impact, flesh, bones, clothing, and even the witch's staff in his hand all decomposed and vaporized in an instant, turning into a handful of scattered dust that shimmered with a faint white light, completely disappearing into the air.
The absolute silence was shattered by an even deeper fear!
The remaining team members let out suppressed gasps; some instinctively raised their witch staffs, while others desperately tried to turn and run away!
Nia's gaze swept over them swiftly, like the most precise scanner. He was carrying out orders; he was telling them to "leave a few." So, who to leave behind?
Is it the male wizard who reacted the fastest and has already tried to build a defensive magic circle? No, he has too much potential and could become a variable. Is it the witch who is so scared that she collapses to the ground and can only cry? Well, cowardly, fearful, and easily controlled, her testimony will be full of emotional unreliability, which will only highlight her image as a survivor after a "fierce battle".
Was it that one who was trying to sneak away, whose eyes held a flicker of hatred in addition to fear? They must be eliminated.
The incandescent white beam of light flashed once more!
Each flash was precise and efficient. The sorcerer who tried to defend himself, along with his hastily erected shield, turned to ashes. The one with hatred in his eyes was vaporized the moment he turned to flee.
The massacre was carried out in silence, efficiently, ruthlessly, and with clear selectivity.
In just a few breaths, all the original team members, except for the three who were "deliberately" left behind, had vanished. Only a few wisps of faintly glowing energy embers remained, along with a lingering smell of ozone and an overwhelming stench of blood and fear.
The three survivors—including the limp, weeping witch, the young wizard who had lost control of his bladder and whose eyes were glazed over, and a teammate with an injured arm, his face ashen and seemingly in a state of catatonia from shock—huddled on the ground, trembling, too afraid to even look at Nia. Their minds were clearly on the verge of collapse; what had just happened would become a nightmare they could never escape.
Nia slowly lowered his staff, the light at its tip fading. He surveyed his surroundings, confirming that the cleanup had met Lord Hick's requirements—to silence the majority and leave behind a few mentally broken "witnesses" who posed no threat. His face remained expressionless, displaying only the indifference of someone whose mission had been successfully accomplished.
Sori clicked his tongue in slight regret atop the spire: "Oh dear, a few little bugs are still alive." But he seemed to have received some instruction from Hick and said nothing more.
Rabour was indifferent to this.
Ginny tilted her head, looking at the survivors, a mischievous glint in her red eyes, as if considering whether to give them some more "spice".
Sean watched Nia's actions in silence, the white spores slightly contracting, as if reassessing the efficiency and ruthlessness of this "companion".
Nia ignored the reactions around him. He glanced one last time at Silian's withered body, which was trapped in mid-air, almost drained of energy, and gradually turning to ashes. He turned and faced the direction of the Shadow Spire, bowing slightly.
"The obstacle has been cleared. The survivors have been dealt with as instructed. Requesting further instructions, Lord Hick."
His voice, amplified by magic, traveled clearly into the distance.
The lakebed was permeated with the atmosphere of death, fear, and betrayal. Hick's script, this page, had been turned precisely according to his will. All traces had been perfectly concealed, leaving only the "truth" he wished to retain.
And Nia, this hidden blade, remains perfectly concealed beneath his white mask.
Several days later, in the Eternal Tower, in the highest council chamber.
Beneath the solemn white marble dome, the atmosphere was heavy, almost tangible.
The high-ranking wizard councilors stood on both sides, their faces shrouded in a cloud of sorrow and anger.
The air was filled with the scent of spices and a faint smell of burning incense, lit to mourn the dead, but it could not completely mask the magical aura emanating from the fingertips of some people due to emotional fluctuations.
The crystal ball in the center of the hall was repeatedly playing a fragmented, blurry, and noisy video.
It was a collection of memory fragments forcibly extracted by a memory extractor at great risk, when the three survivors were on the verge of mental collapse.
In the video:
Twisted Shadow Spire—
The shadow creatures pounced wildly—
Sillian transformed into a golden-red meteor and charged forward with unwavering resolve—
And finally—
The incredibly concentrated beam of black light that attacked from behind struck her precisely in the back of the heart—
The video abruptly ends there, accompanied by the survivors' heart-wrenching screams and indistinguishable wailing in the background.
"Based on the testimonies of Nia and her three teammates, along with fragments of memory footage,"
An old and heavy voice echoed in the hall. The speaker was Malcolm, a member of the Senate in charge of the investigation. His brow was furrowed and his voice was full of pain.
"Our valiant Radiant Flame," Silian, fell victim to a despicable ambush by Hick and his minions during the battle at the Sori Node—ultimately—sacrificing herself for the Tower.
"The despicable Silent Forest! The shameless Heath!"
A young member of parliament couldn't help but pound his fist on the armrest of his chair, roaring out in anger, his eyes burning with fury and tears.
"Ms. Srian's sacrifice will not be in vain! We must avenge her!"
Another female legislator's voice choked with emotion, yet remained unusually firm.
The crowd was outraged, and the calls for revenge almost lifted the roof off.
Elder Malcolm raised his hand to quell the crowd's excitement.
He looked at Nia, who stood in the center of the hall, looking somewhat haggard, with scorch marks and bloodstains still clinging to his robes.
Nia lowered her head slightly, her face filled with just the right amount of sorrow, exhaustion, and a deep sense of self-reproach for failing to protect her companion.
He gripped the gleaming, warm staff tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.
"The Wizard of Nia!"
Malcolm's voice softened, carrying a hint of comfort.
"You and your team are heroes. You survived such a desperate situation and brought back vital intelligence. You witnessed the sacrifice of your comrades and endured immense pain. Tower, thank you for your loyalty and courage."
Nia raised her head, her eyes slightly red, her voice hoarse with sadness, but she remained calm.
"It was my duty, Elder. I only regret that I failed to detect Hick's plot sooner, and failed to save Srian—"
He paused at just the right moment, as if unable to bear the immense grief, and turned his head slightly to take a deep breath.
His performance was flawless.
That haggardness, that sorrow, that self-reproach—these perfectly captured the image of a hero who had survived a hellish battlefield.
No one doubted that this pair of white witches, known as the "Hand of Justice" and on par with "Lightflame" Silian, would deliver a fatal blow to their comrade from behind.
That jet-black beam of light in the memory image? It was naturally an evil spell cast by Hick or one of his powerful minions!
How could it be connected with the pure power of light?
"This is not your fault, child."
Another elder spoke gently.
"The enemy's cunning is beyond our imagination. Heck—he clearly knows us inside and out."
Elder Malcolm nodded, his gaze sharpening once more.
"Hick must pay the price for this. Nia, the intelligence you brought back is of utmost importance."
The council of elders will formulate a new round of operational plans after a detailed analysis.
The wrath of the Eternal Tower will surely burn away all shadows!
May the light endure forever!
Nia placed her right hand on her chest, bowed deeply, and spoke in a firm and devout voice.
The moment he lowered his eyes, deep within them lay only a cold, imperceptible indifference.
The meeting continued in a somber yet passionate atmosphere, discussing how to utilize this intelligence "obtained with blood," how to avenge Srian, and how to further advance the war.
No one knew that the so-called "intelligence" they were discussing so passionately was actually poisoned bait brought back by Nia, the "hidden blade," after being carefully selected and even modified by Hick.
The goal is to direct the power of the Tower of Eternity into a more brutal meat grinder, creating more death and generating more "firewood".
Nia was perfectly concealed beneath his white mask, listening to the even more fanatical war mobilization that he himself had orchestrated!
Like a detached spectator, appreciating the grand prelude to a tragedy that one has co-written and directed.
Silian's sacrifice became yet another carefully crafted cornerstone, elevating Hick's altar, and also—
It satisfied another greedy appetite hidden beneath the brilliance of the Tower of Eternity.
The distinction between right and wrong in this war has long been blurred, leaving only endless lies and bloodshed.