The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 58: The Cost of Faith (Special Chapter)

Alishiera stood before the towering obsidian gates, her fingers trembling as she traced the ancient runes etched into the cold, black stone.

Her body was exhausted, her magic nearly drained from the battle with the first demigod, but she had no time to rest.

Devancier was inside. She could feel his presence, faint yet unwavering, as if his soul was calling out to hers.

The only way to reach him was through the forbidden spell, a prayer that no Saintess should ever dare to utter.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She had learned of this spell in secret, hidden away in the depths of the Grand Cathedral’s archives.

It was a forgotten prayer, one that sacrificed the caster’s own blood and soul in exchange for immeasurable power.

A prayer so strong that it could overturn fate itself.

But it was a prayer that no true Saintess should ever use, for it defied the very essence of faith, offering oneself to darkness in order to grasp the light.

Alishiera pressed her hands together, the sacred incantation forming on her lips. The moment the first words left her mouth, the air around her crackled with energy.

Golden light seeped from her skin, the divine power within her reacting violently to the forbidden spell.

Pain lanced through her body as intricate symbols burned themselves into her flesh, forming a binding contract between her soul and the forces she was about to unleash.

She knew what this meant. Once she completed this prayer, she would no longer be a Saintess.

Her faith, her purity, everything she had built her life upon, it would all be stripped away.

But she had no choice.

If she died, her daughter would carry on the role of Saintess, and the empire would continue to thrive under her protection. But if Devancier perished, the empire would crumble.

The armies could not win without their general. Their son, though young, was the appointed heir, but the world was cruel, and accidents could happen.

Without Devancier’s presence, without his leadership, their enemies would seize the opportunity to strike.

She would not allow it.

She could not allow it.

Her husband had to live.

For their children.

For the empire.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

For her.

A surge of power erupted from her chest, sending waves of golden and crimson light spiraling around her.

The energy coiled like living tendrils, wrapping around her body as her soul became the vessel for the spell.

Her vision blurred as blood trickled from her lips, her life force slowly draining into the incantation’s completion.

The ground beneath her split apart, molten cracks of divine and infernal energy spreading through the fortress.

The obsidian gates trembled, the ancient chains rattling violently as the spell sought to undo the barriers of the second demigod’s lair.

Then, with a deafening crack, the gates shattered.

Alishiera staggered forward, her legs weak but her resolve stronger than ever. She had given part of her soul to this spell. There was no turning back now.

The moment she stepped inside, a gust of ice-cold wind rushed past her, carrying the scent of blood and suffering.

The chamber was vast, its ceiling hidden in darkness, and at its center stood a throne made of jagged bones. Seated upon it was the second demigod, Xanveris, the Lord of Chains.

He was colossal, his body a grotesque fusion of humanoid and beast, his skin covered in blackened steel plates that pulsed with dark energy.

Thick chains wrapped around his limbs, each link engraved with curses that exuded raw, oppressive power.

But Alishiera barely spared him a glance.

Her gaze was fixed on the figure chained beneath the throne.

Devancier.

His once-proud frame was battered and bruised, his golden eyes barely open, and his purple hair matted with dried blood.

Heavy restraints bound his wrists and ankles, suppressing his magic and leaving him vulnerable.

Yet even in his weakened state, he looked at her, not with despair, but with unshaken determination.

"Alishiera…" His voice was hoarse, but the moment he saw her, something in him ignited. "You shouldn’t be here."

She took a step forward, but Xanveris chuckled, the sound deep and grating.

"Ah, the devoted wife has arrived," the demigod mused, his glowing crimson eyes settling on her with amusement.

"And here I thought you were just another mortal. But no… you reek of something far more dangerous."

Alishiera ignored him. Her battle was not with words.

With the last remnants of her strength, she raised both Arthivian and Elsienflora, their twin auras burning brightly.

The power of her forbidden spell surged through her veins, pushing her beyond her mortal limits. Her blood boiled, her soul screamed in agony, but she did not falter.

She had already paid the price.

Now, she would collect her reward.

With a single step, she launched herself forward, her blades clashing against the chains of fate itself.

Xanveris smirked as he raised one massive clawed hand, summoning a web of cursed chains from the void.

They slithered through the air like living serpents, their dark energy seeking to ensnare Alishiera.

But she was faster. Her faith, though tainted by the forbidden spell, was still unshakable.

With a swift motion, she crossed Arthivian and Elsienflora, their opposing energies merging into a blinding force.

The moment the cursed chains struck, her swords cleaved through them, shattering the demonic restraints with divine and infernal fire.

Xanveris narrowed his glowing eyes. "Interesting," he murmured, his voice laced with curiosity. "You’re willing to burn yourself away just to free him?"

Alishiera didn’t answer. There was no need for words.

She lunged forward, her swords striking at the demigod’s thick armor. Sparks flew as her blades clashed against his unholy plating.

The force of her assault sent shockwaves through the chamber, shattering stones and scattering debris.

Devancier, still bound, watched in awe as his wife fought with a strength beyond human limitations.

He could see it, the price she was paying. Her once-radiant glow was flickering, her breath uneven, her body straining under the power she had borrowed.

But Alishiera didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

Because this battle was no longer just about saving Devancier.

It was about defying fate itself.