LIGHTNOVELSTORY Chapter 100: Chapter 100
Syra looked longingly at Varrus from within a shroud of invisibility.
He had thought she was already gone, away hunting the vermin that had struck at him.
Yet she had remained close for just a minute more. She wanted to hold him, squeeze him, and never let him out of her sight.
The way he commanded the troops, the construction of his toys, and the joy in his eyes when he built the tower.
It was all so childish. So wonderful.
In a society where everyone was busy outdoing one another, and attempting to gain attention from their peers, Varrus almost accidentally ascended to the zenith of Highborn gossip and dare she say, admiration.
As his only public fan during his acting days, Syra had been on the receiving end of hateful rhetoric, and mocked for her support of him.
But who was laughing now?
Varrus was the one feeding their addiction. Varrus was the one who reorganized the rule of law, and secured Silvermoon. It was by his efforts that the city was rebuilt, and cleansed of corruption. It was Varrus who crowned the King for all to see.
He was in the limelight. The Hero spoken of in whisper, as if he was some mythological creature.
And he was all hers.
Syra smiled to herself as she watched him grow slightly irritated, and begin to tear away at the dirt.
To others, they might see a cold and composed leader, hell-bent on securing the safety and security of their people. But Syra had been with Varrus long enough, and knew he had lost his cool. He wanted to tear that Prince apart.
Ah, how cute~.
Syra withheld a giggle, and held a hand up to her lips.
Rho'dan was nearby, and glanced at the position she was hiding in with a knowing smirk.
Syra narrowed her eyes. Happy her husband's guard dog was ever watchful, yet she resented the fact that he had spotted her.
Furthermore, he winked at her!
Syra wanted to sneak up on him, however, what she was waiting for happened.
Another Black Arrow came from an alleyway in the city, and forced Rho'dan to block.
'This is it!' Syra's eyes widened, and absorbed a large amount of Void energy as she tried to parse through the shadows, and seize her target.
Her vision turned purple-scale, where every object had a slightly violet hue to it. This method of seeing made Syra noxious, but it was the best method to find that which wished to remain unfound.
A second or two into her search, she found traces of Ariel.
She then longingly glanced at Varrus one last time, burning his image in her mind. To her violet-vision enhanced sight, Varrus was like a shining beacon compared to the average Elf.
He truly was special…
Shaking her head so as not to be lost in thought staring at Varrus-she could do that later-Syra refocused on her query.
Choosing a direction to advance towards, she gracefully flipped over the edge of the 8 story tower, and landed on the ground without making a sound.
Syra made her way towards the alley that the sniper had occupied a moment ago.
Along the way, she dodged between ravenous Wretched Darkfallen, flipped over several cannon shots, side stepped a priest's Holy Light, and avoided large puddles of pooling blood.
The chaos of battle made Syra itchy for combat.
Her protective instincts long honed within the forests, and achieved during the Orc War screamed at her to cut apart and eviscerate all the scum charging at her husband, but her rationality won out in the end.
House Vandercross was sufficiently prepared for this encounter thanks to her Varrus's Frozen Orb spell, training, and superior equipment.
She took pride in his accomplishments. Of transforming some slacker layabouts into true Elites.
'Ah. No more distractions Syra!' Syra pouted at herself, and turned away from the war being waged all around her.
Refocusing on her prey, Syra left the main street, and began to search to the best of her ability.
At this point, the sounds of exploding fireballs, and mindless roars of the Undead had become muted. It was close enough to send vibrations through the rain puddles, yet far enough away that Syra felt safe from any accidental friendly fire.
Spotting trace amounts of some footsteps highlighted in purple, Syra carefully made her way down an alleyway.
During her hunt, a dragonhawk knight crashed and collided into a nearby building, his mount died, and the knight had a broken arm.
Syra was on edge, and expecting an ambush, yet nothing happened.
Moving closer, she examined the knight.
The bloody rain began to eat at his flesh as the priests' barrier had popped during the impact. He fumbled to uncork a potion, and barely got the elixir to his lips, but it only delayed the inevitable. What would be a 10 second death had been delayed to minutes thanks to the powerful effects of the healing draught.
Syra looked on, feeling troubled by the development.
Raised by Faedra, she had been conditioned to always complete the mission first. To ignore any obstacles that got in the way of achieving her goal. As a warrior and assassin, Syra had followed this training to great success. Sometimes there would be losses in the field, but ultimately, her murder of the enemy leader or holding a certain fortification resulted in great victories, or forced the enemy to flee. .
However, when she fought side by side with Varrus, liberating the city, rescuing those children, and watching his love and awe for Silvermoon during the reconstruction…it made all that training under her mother feel…wrong.
National pride wasn't exactly something she had experienced, nor did she feel particularly close to the smug Elves thousands of years her elder. They played their games, yet were all pawns between Faedra, Vandercross, and Sunstrider. It was difficult to take such conniving ancients seriously, or express any kind of loyalty towards such two faced, pompous politicians.
But Varrus's childish glee, and marveling at everything in wonder had made Syra feel things she didn't know were possible.
Suddenly, a downed knight she wouldn't even glance twice at had placed her in a dilemma.
Logic and training dictated that she would do the most good if she continued on her quest as if nothing had happened. To finish her hunt of Ariel, and surprise her with a swift execution.
Yet the love of her life was such an exemplary Hero. He was someone who helped people to his own detriment, often to Syra's chagrin.
But his innocence was precious.
Closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip, Syra had come to a decision.
'Oh Varrus you lovable off, what have I become?' Syra thought to herself as she prepared a barrier spell for the damaged Highborn.
Syra had been fretting over saving the downed knight all this time, and was about to take the risk of revealing herself to do so, when an arrow struck his throat, and claimed his life.
At the same time, a damaged building shook due to the force contained within the arrow, and some rubble toppled over, and splashed into a nearby puddle of blood.
Syra's outstretched hand closed into a fist.
Her mood soured in an instant.
She had been hopeful, and was clinging to the naïveté of Varrus's generosity at that moment. But the one time she had chanced exposing herself, and forsaking her mission, the one time she chose good over logic.
It was taken from her.
At that moment, Syra felt as if she had just witnessed someone kick a puppy.
Tracking the firing arc of the arrow, Syra replied by slashing with her buster sword.
Gold and violet intermixed with one another, forming a crescent of energy.
The powerful energy wave erupted from her blade, and tore apart the cobblestone road as it collided with a nearby bell tower.
A great bronze bell shook and shuddered as it collapsed, interrupting the steady beat of the rain for but a second before being silenced forever.
Syra had revealed herself in that instant, and instead of waiting around, she ran forward, barely dodging two extremely fast Black Arrows.
The Ranger Captain had also revealed herself, and backflipped over the roof of a building to put some distance between them.
Syra could have easily jumped after Ariel, but instead she cut her way through the building, and emerged on the other side like a wrecking ball crashing into a shop.
Rotten pastries, and other moldy baked goods splattered from within the store onto the street in her wake.
She pressed forward, eager to dice up her foe, only to be met with no sight of her. Only the bloody rain and distant booms of combat remained as her constant companions.
Her violet vision picked up movement, to which Syra sent another crescent of energy towards.
However, it was a feint.
Syra felt a shift in the air behind her, and barely reacted in time.
Twin swords jutted towards her back, forcing Syra to duck and sweep her blade.
The speed of her response was incredible, yet Ariel seemed to keep up!
"I studied Silvermoon's developments, I know Vandercross's whore is fast, which is why I asked my Lord for a similar blessing!" Ariel mocked as she twirled her blades.
Syra didn't say a word, and slashed down in a series of diagonals.
Ariel grinned, and parried aside Syra's wide attacks, seemingly waiting for a perfect opportunity to strike.
Unleashing wide magical arcs with every attack, Syra narrowed her eyes as she realized that her Holy Void was not eating away at Ariel's weapons.
The twin blades had a thick layer of blood on them that were being corroded, however, the constant blood rain was rejuvenating the enchantment at a rate faster than what she could destroy.
Syra narrowed her eyes at this factoid, and recalled several instances where she had witnessed a mortally wounded Darkfallen sup on flesh and blood to heal. While it didn't protect the Prince from her blade a few months back, Ariel had undergone some strange ritual, enhancing her compared to the average Darkfallen.
Syra wasn't so foolish as to believe that there were no counters to the Holy Void. Yet from what she had seen, that didn't mean Ariel was immune!
Tucking that information away, Syra began singing the spell to Sanctuary during the swipes of her sword.
Ariel, upon hearing the chants of magic, appeared to grow desperate to counterattack, and had grown slightly sloppy in her maneuvers, taking a shallow cut here and there.
Syra confirmed her theory from earlier when she saw the Ranger Captain heal from Syra's attack.
The bitch was trying to bait Syra into overextending herself!
But that was exactly what Syra wanted!
Dramatically raising her sword overhead, Syra brought it down with a supreme amount of force and power, leaving her midsection exposed.
The sky was briefly cleaved in two, and the clouds were parted as the power of her attack contained an enormous amount of mana.
Gold and violet intertwined to form a energy sword the length of a 2 story building from the tip of her blade, spelling doom for any caught in its path.
Ariel took this invitation, and stabbed forward.
Black blood seeped out of Ariel's eyes, and her flesh pulsed with black veins. An unholy aura surrounded her body, and visible waves of Death magic coated her form.
Her swords collided with the bubble of Light coating Syra, and easily punched forth.
Syra grinned at that instant, and siphoned all of the mana and energy flowing out of her sword into her body. Specifically, at her abs, where she coated them in Holy Void, and hardened them to an astonishing degree.
The twin blades scraped off her midsection, and in fact, had been gripped by Syra as she tightened her core.
In that brief moment of confusion, Ariel tried to perk her weapons back, but Syra's fists had already locked onto the Ranger Captain's throat.
Syra squeezed.
Ariel only had a moment of disbelief, before Holy Void infused her body, and ate away at the shield protecting her.
The Darkfallen's eyes began to expand and pop outward, and were desperately looking upward for the healing rain, yet the sword from earlier had lasted the clouds!
There would be no restoration!
Syra coldly looked on in satisfaction as Ariel tried, and failed to scream.
Within only a handful of seconds, Ariel had burned up from the inside out, and disappeared like a rusted sword decaying into dust.
Unclenching her abs, Syra bit her lip as the pain of Death magic had bypassed some of her defenses, and entered her system.
Looking down at the pile of ashes being swept away in the bloody rain, Syra deemed such an inconvenience worth it.
Flexing her power, Syra cleansed her body, and looked out to the battle.
Furious Dragon roars drew her attention to the other flank.
It would seem Nightsong and Tha'salah were in the final throes of battle.
Picking herself up, Syra wanted to go to Varrus's side, but at the same time, this could be the opportunity to really show off in front of her mother-in-law.
The General had been an icon, and her personal Hero growing up.
Smiling to herself, Syra had made up her mind, and began to move towards the World Tree.
Varrus would understand.
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AN: Read up to chapter 127 at: patreon.com/KarpQQ