Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 340: Sacrificial Lambs

Snow whipped through the air as the shockwave settled.

Ren pulled himself to his feet, shaking snow from his hair, eyes on the sky.

The jagged crack hung like a wound in the heavens, glowing faintly with gold and green light. Lightning danced within the breach.

Lilith joined him, her knives already drawn. Her face was pale but focused.

Thorn groaned beside them, coughing as the wind picked up, blowing snow all over the peak. "What the hell was that?!" He muttered, horrified.

Across the clearing, Nero stood still. His mask had been cracked down one side, blood trailing from a gash on his forehead. He was laughing.

A deep, maddened chuckle that grew into full, breathless laughter.

"Heh... so it begins." He muttered. He lifted his face to the sky, still grinning. "Ren. We’re on your side. Always have been. The World Tree is the enemy. That hasn’t changed."

Ren narrowed his eyes. "Then why all the games?"

Nero took off his mask, wiping blood from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Because you wouldn’t have listened if I walked up and said ’Hey, I know the world’s ending. Want to be friends?’ I needed to prove myself, and the Truth Stone was the only way."

"And now," Nero glanced down at the rubble scattered around the scorched ground, "the stone has been destroyed."

Above them, the crack in the sky flared.

Figures began to fall from it.

Massive humanoid shapes, formed from dried vines, bark, and roots. Their limbs twisted unnaturally, their hollow eyes burning with golden fire.

Contessa stepped forward, voice calm. "Yggdrasil’s warriors."

Nero nodded. "It was always going to end this way for us. We knew before we even sought you out. We came to give you a piece of the puzzle... and to die."

Ren’s eyes went wide.

The first of the vine warriors struck the ground. The impact cracked the stone beneath, sending up a wave of snow. The others followed, landing in a half circle around the shattered remains of the Truth Stone.

Lilith grabbed Ren’s hand. "We need to go."

Nero looked at him with one last intense gaze. "They won’t let us live. But they need you alive. You and Lilith. Go. You’re not strong enough for this. Not yet."

Ren hesitated.

But only for a moment.

Nero was right. And so, he turned.

Contessa finally spoke. Her voice was soft. "Goodbye."

She reached up, unfastened her mask, and pulled it free. Her face was strikingly beautiful, with sharp features and piercing silver eyes. She smiled at them.

"Don’t let our deaths be in vain."

Ren nodded. "I won’t."

Then, he turned and ran.

Lilith followed, Thorn at his heels. The three of them sprinted across the snow, heading east, away from the summit. Behind them, resonance flared as magic exploded into life.

Nero’s darkness surged forward like a flood, swallowing the light, covering half the battlefield in writhing black tendrils.

The moment the warriors entered it, their limbs began to corrode. Their bark-like armor cracked, steaming where it touched the dark.

Contessa raised her hand, and spears of light erupted around her. They hovered for a moment, then shot forward like arrows, piercing through the warriors. Where they struck, vines exploded into dust.

One of the warriors lashed out with a spiked root arm. Nero dodged, his body shifting into pure shadow, reforming beside the creature and driving a blade of darkness through its chest.

The monster shrieked, vines recoiling from the inside out before the thing collapsed.

Contessa leapt into the air, landing on one of the warriors’ shoulders. She placed her palm on its head. A burst of light exploded from her fingers, and the warrior’s skull disintegrated into ash.

Another warrior grabbed her in midair and hurled her into the ground.

Nero surged forward, a wave of darkness catching her and cushioning the impact on the hard rock. He snarled, throwing out twin arcs of black that carved through two more warriors, their torsos shredded.

But the warriors kept coming.

Ten. Fifteen. More than twenty now.

Nero’s darkness began to flicker.

Contessa gasped, falling to one knee, blood on her lips.

"It’s too much." She whispered.

Nero growled. "Not yet. One last stand."

They stood back to back, surrounded.

The warriors closed in.

Contessa raised both hands. A ring of searing white erupted outward, forcing the warriors back. The ones closest to her caught fire, vines burning away with unholy shrieks.

Nero whispered something under his breath. The shadows beneath his feet twisted, forming a dozen long spears.

"Now."

They charged.

Nero led the assault, his spears plunging through the hearts and limbs of the creatures. Contessa followed, her body shining like a star, light radiating from every motion. For every step forward, three warriors fell.

But they were slowing.

A massive warrior, three times the size of the others, slammed both fists into the earth. Vines erupted from the ground, impaling Nero through the torso. frёewebnoѵēl.com

He coughed blood.

"Contessa..."

She turned too late.

A blade of vine stabbed through her side, lifting her off the ground.

They were surrounded.

They were pierced. Broken. But not afraid.

Nero looked at her. She looked at him.

They smiled.

And then they fell.

As their dead bodies hit the snow, the warriors froze.

Then, one by one, their forms began to crack. Light leaked from the gaps in their bodies.

In seconds, the warriors collapsed into beams of golden energy. The light lifted from the snow and streaked back into the crack in the sky.

The sky pulsed, and the crack sealed.

Just like that.

It was over.

Snow began to fall, slowly covering up the signs of battle.

Death had come to the Seventh Peak, and it was silent once again.

[][][][][]

Far from the peak, where the Arondale mountain range kissed the Mare Dulce Sea, the sea began to boil.

Bubbles rose from the depths.

A figure walked from the surf, dragging himself onto land.

His clothes were tattered, his hair wet and tangled. Water dripped from his body, steaming against the cold rock. One of his eyes was pitch black. The other, glowing gold.

It was Tam.

He stared up at the mountains, silent for a long time.

Then, he began to walk.

As he moved, he muttered under his breath. Again and again.

"Ren, son of Ross."

His voice was a whisper, and his steps were slow but steady. Every print he left in the snow crackled faintly with golden light.

"Ren, son of Ross."

He walked with purpose, disappearing into the mountain.

And the sea behind him watched as he hunted.

"Ren, son of Ross."

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