Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series-Chapter 157: Orchestral Symphony [22]

Aiden closed his eyes, the throbbing pain in his body consuming him as he accepted whatever fate awaited him.

He was certain Emmeranne had approached to end it- his life, his misery, his pathetic fall. The cold kiss of death seemed preferable to the torment his body endured. But instead of silence or a blade, a sudden clash of metal rang out like thunder.

His eyes snapped open.

The night sky spun as he struggled to turn his head toward the sound, and what he saw froze the breath in his lungs.

Emmeranne stood behind him now, her long hair billowing in the wind as her amethyst-bladed sword struck a cloaked figure. The sheer force of her swing sent the assailant flying, blood spraying across the earth as the figure hit the ground.

Aiden tried to sit up, wincing as fire pulsed through his ribs and up his spine.

The soft breeze from earlier had died, and the stillness of the air sent a prickle down his spine. Then, like a chorus of rustling leaves, there came a sound- steady, growing louder, and multiplied beyond reason. His gaze flicked up, and his blood froze.

He saw cloaked figures, endless in number, their hoods drawn so low that the shadows swallowed any semblance of a face. They emerged from the trees like a living fog, step after step, as if they had no end. The more they came, the more unnatural it felt, like a sea of void given form. Aiden's breath hitched in his throat as he shivered violently.

He had seen one of them before, probably almost a week from now when he woke up with the overwhelming sense of dread in his dormitory and saw that figure in the corner of the room. The very one that tried to end his life before vanishing without a trace. These were the same.

There were hundreds of them, and they didn't seem to stop. That same suffocating aura returned, curling around his throat like cold smoke. His heart hammered. They were the same.

It was as if the forest itself vomited them out in waves.

Aiden's breath caught in his throat. They moved like wraiths, like hollowed-out husks of men. Weapons hung limply from some of their hands- rusted blades, broken spears, even farming sickles- but there was no sound from them. Just silence.

Emmeranne stepped in front of him without hesitation. Her sword, born from her amethyst ring, shimmered in the moonlight. Its gleam was soft, like lavender under moonlight, but what it did was anything but gentle. She moved with such chilling grace that Aiden could only stare, dazed and awe-struck.

With a single flick of her wrist, the blade sliced through the figure's throat, arterial blood splashing across the stone. Another leapt from the side, but she turned and opened another portal- this one slicing the figure clean in half as it passed through, its top half tumbling away from its legs with a wet thud.

Aiden gagged, bile crawling up his throat.

The ground was already slick with blood and dark robes. She moved like water, spinning and slicing with terrifying precision.

Her face remained unreadable and emotionless, as if death were something she wore like perfume.

Still, they came.

Figures crawled over the cliff walls, descended from the treetops, emerged from the rocks themselves. Emmeranne carved a path around Aiden, her sword flashing in blurs.

Another figure lunged, and she stepped aside with a fluid turn, bringing her blade down in a vertical slash. The hooded head of the figure tumbled to the ground in a spurt of blackened blood, its body crumpling without a sound.

Another charged, this time from the left. Emmeranne didn't even look. A portal bloomed beside her- sleek, edged in violet light- and the moment the figure entered its radius, its body was split clean down the middle. It collapsed in two bloody halves that sizzled as they hit the earth.

Three more attacked in unison. Emmeranne spun, creating another portal mid-swing. Her blade passed through it, and emerged from another portal behind the enemies, slitting the first's throat in one clean arc.

Blood sprayed, warm and sharp-smelling.

The other two faltered, but only for a moment. She kicked one back, then sliced through the second with a reverse grip, her sword trailing a streak of black blood as the enemy's entrails spilled onto the soil. The one who had fallen tried to crawl away, but she stepped on its back, pressing the heel of her boot until a sickening crunch echoed.

She didn't blink.

Aiden could only watch, his own pain pushed aside by the sheer horror of what she was doing. He tried to speak, to warn her of the dozen more coming from behind, but before he could, her portals opened again- six of them in a spiral formation- and her sword flashed in and out, carving through the incoming foes like a painter weaving a masterpiece of violence.

Each time the blade reappeared from another angle, it claimed another life.

Black blood soaked the ground. The air smelled of rust and rot.

But Emmeranne showed no sign of fatigue. Her body moved in harmony with the moonlight, hair wild, face streaked with soot and blood. She looked less like a schoolgirl and more like a spirit of vengeance who had experienced a lot hidden beneath her face.

And yet, despite how efficient she was, Aiden felt helpless watching her. He knew she was buying time- buying time for what, he knows he'll die anyways, but he didn't want to feel like a burden.

He couldn't just lie there.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists against the earth, wincing as the pain from his shattered bones surged through his body like molten fire. His limbs trembled. His vision swam.

"Come on…" he muttered, voice hoarse. He forced his arm to move, then his torso. The world spun, his body felt like it had been lit ablaze, but he ignored it.

He had to help her. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Even if his body screamed with every inch he crawled.

Even if fire seemed to roar beneath his skin and his muscles cried for rest. He didn't know how he could help, but he had to try.

He pushed himself up, the broken bones grinding together in his leg. He choked on a scream. His hands were shaking, bloodied from the rough ground and smeared with mud and grime.

Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.

He managed to get to his knees, hunched and gasping, and called out through gritted teeth, "Emmeranne… I'm not… letting you do this alone."

She didn't answer. But he saw her tense slightly. Her gaze didn't turn back to him, but her blade flicked with even sharper precision now. It was almost as if his voice had centered her.

Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was Emmeranne- this emotionless, sharp-edged murderer girl who was now covered in blood and bruises, protecting him without asking why.

Maybe it was the memory of Adrian's smirk or Sevan's thoughtful voice. Or even Shiloh, the annoying brat who wouldn't shut up- but who was, in some twisted way, still part of their strange class. He thought of them. All of them. And the Caleenas, who had taken him in like he was their own. His heart clenched.

He had to help. Somehow.

He tried to move. His arms trembled beneath him as if he were lifting the sky. Every nerve screamed, every muscle burned like it was doused in fire. His lungs barely worked, pulling in ragged breaths that felt like knives. But he gritted his teeth and pushed harder.

"I… I won't just lie here," he muttered under his breath.

Emmeranne was still slashing through the attackers, but the perimeter was shrinking. Another figure leapt over her blade, landing close- too close- to Aiden. He winced, but then reached out, his palm glowing faintly. A spark ignited, followed by a trembling burst of fire. It wasn't much. It barely singed the figure's cloak. But it was enough of a distraction.

Emmeranne's sword cleaved through the figure's neck before it could react.

One managed to swipe at her leg. The blade met her thigh and blood bloomed, but Emmeranne didn't falter. Instead, she summoned a portal midair and kicked the figure straight into it. The portal closed with a sickening crunch. When she reappeared behind another, she gripped her sword in both hands and drove it downward, slicing the attacker clean in half. The torso hit the ground before the legs did.

Aiden gasped as one of the cloaked figures lunged at him from the side, its jagged blade aimed for his throat. He tried to roll away, but his shattered limbs screamed in protest, freezing him in place.

Just as the figure loomed over him, black fabric fluttering in the moonlight and the stench of rot choking the air, a silver gleam sliced the night. Emmeranne appeared in a flash, her amethyst blade tearing through the figure's neck in a clean, brutal arc. Blood sprayed in a dark mist, painting Aiden's cheek as the figure collapsed beside him, head rolling off into the dirt.

And in that moment, amid the blood and fire, the falling moonlight and infinite enemies, Aiden realized something.

He wasn't ready to die.

Not yet.

Especially when he hadn't heard from Lopt and Emmeranne yet what the fuck is going on.