Chapter 89 – Ecstasy of Violence
The man’s face crunched with satisfying noise as Elana’s ice gauntlet’s spikes penetrated his eyeball. She pulled her hand back, letting the body fall freely. The way she could brutally kill fed a primal part of her, making her want more.
All around her, Elana felt chaos ensue. A few blows, magical in nature, landed against her armour, not even nicking it. “I will help you indeed.” Her cruel smile was partly hidden by snow swirling around her body. “To part from your mortal coil.”
Not that her words carried far. Duke Noiom made sure of that with his screaming.
“TRAITORS! ALL OF YOU!” Noiom raged, his conjured flames burning brighter. His attacks did not differentiate between a friend or foe. “ESPECIALLY YOU!” He suddenly switched from confronting Duke Arkoly to Duke De’Sorthos
Vermont’s reaction was delayed. He was still gaping at Elana’s outburst, not believing what was happening. His face darkened, eyes spewing hatred towards his daughter.
Elana smiled, enjoying her father’s expression. Finally, he was seeing her true self, not the pawn he had imagined in his head. She twirled around, slamming her spiky fist into another man who had dared to approach her.
“Trash.” Elana pulled back her hand, pulling out the bloody needles that had frozen the target’s brain. “I can take care of myself, father.” She called out, sowing even more confusion among the enemies.
The flames enveloped Vermont and Ashton, making them almost impossible to see. Elana raised an eyebrow, wondering if her father was weakened so much that he would die like this.
But the next moment, Elana’s father reminded the world why he was feared. He suddenly manifested an insane amount of water, forming a large, moving bubble around him.
The bubble swirled and spun, pulling in everything that dared to enter its vicinity - people included. At the centre of it sat Vermont and Ashton, relaxed inside their shell.
Elana wasn’t fooled. She knew her father enough to see how strained he was. But he held against the flames and wind that buffeted the water egg.
Seeing Vermont stand his ground, the other Dukes turned back to face each other, judging them as the more immediate threat.
More and more people joined the madness, throwing their lives into the whirlpool of magic in the middle of the hall. Some of the neutral dukes and other nobles retreated to the fringes of the place, but those were the minority.
The King didn’t move. Around him, his loyal guards formed a wall and cast barriers to hold all threats away. He was attempting to say something to the Princess, his face tired and rapidly ageing.
Moira was back on her feet but held away from the Princess by a couple of guards, who had finally realised she was not one of them. Frederick was currently defending her, trying to pass the Lantern to the love of his life.
At the furthest side of the hall, Cinthia was keeping Catarina and Mary safe as they gawked at the happenings. From outside, guards poured in, trying to decipher the chaos they now faced. Bishop Romoly had also found his way in and commanded powerful casters as they kept people safe as they escaped.
Which, surprisingly, left Elana entirely on her own. And it insulted her pride. She had spent quite a lot of time perfecting her evil, ice Queen’s look, and now she was treated like a small fry.
Of course, there was an easy fix to that. All Elana had to do was slaughter everyone who was not on her side or she didn’t like. Or anyone who could be a problem. Or anyone who looked at her without proper respect.
“Ah,” Elana sought out the next target. “I am feeling quite murderous.” She admitted to the horrified woman who had been sneaking up to her. “Now, come and die like a good bitch you are.” Her arms wide, she walked into the feeble stab into her chest.
Elana smirked as the woman froze in fear. She continued to push forward, making the victim drop her weapon as she tried to stumble back.
But it was too late. Elana’s arms wrapped around the woman, pulling her into a deadly hug. Her supernatural strength left no hope for the admittedly pretty girl.
The woman trembled in fear and cold, her body rapidly chilling as she was crushed. Elana leaned closer, her lips sealing away the last scream the woman released.
“Not bad,” Elana found the woman’s lips quite tasty. “But oh, so brittle.” She released the fresh corpse, finally giving attention to the attacks she was receiving.
Around her, people panicked. Where Elana’s eyes fell, people retreated, not daring to return the gaze. Their faces were full of terror, finding their best attacks - magical or physical - had no impact on the Icy Beauty.
At least, nothing Elana was willing to show. She was getting worn down. Her mana pool was not infinite. The reforming of her ice armour took quite a bit. But she agreed with her father on one thing.
The appearance of invincibility went a long way to instil loyalty in one’s subjects.
Elana broke a particularly long spike protruding from her shoulder. She made it even longer, making an impromptu sword out of it.
The next moment, Elana leapt, arriving at her next victim, stabbing her weapon through his neck. She kept looking into his eyes as he died.
Behind her, Elana formed icicles, fanning them out and sending them flying into the crowd. The screams of people getting injured were a piece of music to her.
Elana raised both of her hands, forming more projectiles and reaping more lives with them. She waved her long icicle like a maestro would their baton.
“Heavenly,” She whispered, suddenly finding herself standing alone, with no opponent daring to confront her. “I guess it’s time for a family reunion,” She stepped towards her father. “Isn’t that right, Vermont?”
Elana’s father glared back, preparing to face his daughter.