Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better?

Chapter 144

C144

At the moment when untimely cracks appeared in the clear noon sky, flowed a stifling silence.

Due to the scythe that cut through space, the crack rapidly increased in size, and an evil spirit in the form of a grim reaper leaped from the space that opened like a wound.

The evil spirits created by the demons of their fallen souls were the highest among demons.

And the dreadful thing flew rapidly towards the ceremonial altar.

All of this happened in a very fleeting moment.

Surprisingly, the black evil spirit covered with an old cloth did not attack people first, like hungry jaws, unlike other monsters.

"Woooooooo!"

When it suddenly roared savagely, it swung the black-stained scythe through the air.

Kiiiiiiiiiiii

A horrifying sound echoed through space, and the ground began to shake violently.

"Ahhhhh!"

The marble columns and buildings lining the surroundings also vibrated like an earthquake.

Cries of fear echoed everywhere, and the wizards preparing to launch an attack grabbed their chests and vomited blood.

This was because, at the moment the evil spirit wielded its scythe, the mana flowing around distorted strangely.

"Kough!"

The high-ranking wizards with an excellent sensitivity to mana suffered especially from this unexpected blow.

"Father!"

Seeing his daughter screaming, Duke Seymour swallowed the blood.

"Run!"

"Please, come with me!"

The aura of an evil spirit with a scythe was not too unusual for her.

She felt a terribly strong force, and the ominous smell of blood kept reaching the tip of her nose.

She thought the crack had already occurred once and was proceeding according to the original story, but suddenly a more dangerous-looking monster appears.

Could this be the essence of the anxiety that I couldn't shake off all this time?

"No such content was in the ."

But this was clearly reality.

More terrible than a nightmare.

I can't leave my father while he's vomiting blood.

Just as I was about to plead again for him to flee, the nearby marble column collapsed.

"Purple!"

At his master's command, a solid defensive wall formed around him like a turtle's shell, and Isidor, running quickly, quickly destroyed the column to prevent the momentary crisis.

But the situation was deteriorating uncontrollably.

The thick fog flowing through the cracks colored the blue sky black, and the nightmare landscape turned into chaos.

It looked like hell.

No one heard the Crown Prince's orders to evacuate calmly.

And there was another major problem.

Because the incense ceremony was underway, the knights were unarmed, and the magicians had their high-level magic casting canceled by the evil spirits.

Great powers like the Orge family and the battle mages of the Magic Tower were stationed at the city gates to stabilize the chaotic public, so even when faced with the highest-level monsters, the power of their allies was not the best.

At this moment, among the knights attending the ceremony, the only armed knight was Isidor, who could summon a sword with magic.

Duke Seymour urgently said.

"Duke Visconti. Can you hold it until the spell is complete?"

But Duke Seymour didn't expect much as he spoke.

Because knights were vulnerable to aerial enemies.

When a wave of monsters occurs, the mage sinks the aerial enemy, and the knights take care of the monsters on the ground.

But there was no time to think.

"Kiiiiiiiiiii-!"

An evil spirit reminiscent of a reaper raised its scythe high again, making a spine-chilling sound as if scraping a slate.

The tattered scythe was stained black, and a huge and sinister darkness flew through the air.

"Purple. Attack that scythe."

He quickly ordered the Spirit to shoot a light.

Duke Seymour and the wizards also hurriedly poured attack magic.

However, the black mist that dyed the sky black blocked the magic, and the attacks of the wizards couldn't even pierce the monster's neck.

At that moment.

A flash of gold that gleamed in the darkness crossed abruptly through the air.

"Aaaargh!"

The monster's screams filled with pain resonated strongly.

People who were pushing each other roughly to escape turned their gaze towards the sound as if they were possessed by something.

"Angel?"

After flying, Isidor, who quickly approached behind the monster deploying movement magic, mercilessly pushed the blade behind the reaper's back.

"It's movement magic!"

"... A mage."

Throughout the history of the Empire, some nobles shouted in amazement at the dramatic appearance of the magical swordsman.

"An angel has come!"

Isidor, who swirled his white cloak and threw a golden sword at the evil spirit, resembled the angel from myth when dealing with a demon, so everyone couldn't look away from the scene.

"That's the Archangel the Goddess has sent for us!"

Some people who didn't know much about the magical swordsman shouted excitedly as if they thought Isidor was a real angel.

Isidor, who placed a sword over the demon's head, summoned another sword, this time to infuse magic into it and cut the demon.

A series of surprising and threatening attacks were launched, and the evil spirit fought in a noticeably weakened form.

"Woooooo!"

Even though the evil spirits attacked, Isidor evaded the attack and struck with his golden sword once more.

Then the evil spirits scattered like mist, and a huge scythe fell upon the altar.

But that was not the end.

Rather, it was the beginning.

When the powerful evil spirit was fatally attacked, the black mist that shrouded the blue sky began to reveal its true form.

"No, my God."

People who had waited for a while because of Isidor lost strength in their legs and collapsed.

Even those with weak hearts were stunned by the horrific sight.

The dark mist filling the sky was a phantom force in the form of a skeleton drawn by an evil spirit.

When the commander and suppressor disappeared, the ghosts cast dark magic and tried to run wildly, but a wind blew through their flesh.

Blizzard, the seventh-class magic transcending human limits, which turned Duke Seymour into the Tower mage, was completed.

A terrifying ice storm like a disaster blew towards the phantom force, and half of the monsters froze in place and fell to the ground.

"Attack!"

When the knights who had finished organizing their army and the wizards who had straightened their ranks entered the battle, there was an exhausting battle that was hard to watch with open eyes.

This was because the skeletal ghosts, who had lost the center of the evil spirits, went mad like demons, craving blood and human flesh.

Moreover, unless it was fourth-class magic or lower or an attack with an aura, it couldn't even inflict a critical hit.

"Ah ah ah...!"

Isidor breathed with a pale face as he cut down the ghosts one by one.

It wasn't easy for Isidor, a magical swordsman, to deal alone with a high-level monster, so he was very tired.

"Where is Deborah?"

He looked around with a pale face, wiping the sweat from his chin.

Due to the black mist spread by the skeletal ghosts, visibility was dim, and it was difficult to recognize who is who.

"Did you evacuate safely? Please..."

Imperial jurisdiction prohibits bringing magical tools, so there are probably no scrolls or artifacts in her hand. Fortunately, there was the divine spirit to protect her.

Isidor raised his sword once again and severed the head of the monster running towards him.

"Isidor! Behind you!!"

At that moment.

Isidor quickly turned his head to the place where he could hear a familiar but desperate voice.

He saw a great darkness and a scythe in sight.

The evil spirit, whose face and half of its body had been blown away, turned into mist and held its breath, then reappeared as soon as Isidor exhausted himself.

"Watch out!"

At the princess's cry, Isidor took a few steps back on reflex.

"Kough!"

But the tip of a long scythe pierced through his ribs, and he couldn't even scream. In an instant, his eyes turned black, and the unbearable pain that took away his breath shook his brain.

"Deborah."

His face, rushing towards him with bright red eyes, was clearly visible.

In the midst of the burning pain, he suddenly thought he was lucky.

If it weren't for Deborah, his heart would have been pierced, and he would have died on the spot, never to see that beautiful face again.

But seeing her up close, her face looked so sad that it broke his heart.

"Don't cry. I won't die from this."

Instead of a voice, only black blood followed from his open mouth. He had been attacked by the scythe's poison.

For the first time at the crossroads of life and death, Isidor felt a sense of despair.

Feeling a distant fear thinking he couldn't see her anymore, and that she would be saddened if he disappeared, he tried to maintain composure even as the remaining mana in his body disappeared.

"Please, a priest! A priest! The duke is injured. Please!"

But like a candle just before extinguishing, his thin eyelids began to tremble gradually.

Isidor ran out of breath and barely opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't say something so weak! Please..."

—"I haven't been hurt since I was thirteen!"

"You said you've never been hurt!"

Blood on a white rosary.

An abandoned land full of monsters.

A blond man.

The smell of blood.

Suddenly, a wave of memories rushed, and Deborah heard the sound of something blocking her power, like a dam breaking.

Soon, the pure white divine power sprouted from her body.

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