Chapter 260: Shall We Talk?
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Bolts of lightning slammed into the floor. The woman seemed entirely unconcerned that this was her own pyramid as she attacked without restraint, blasting one enormous crater after another into the stone.
Little Cloak no longer dared to show itself. It hid completely, burning through the hard-won magic it had managed to consume with every passing second.
Tim could still fight, but Fawkes, already weakened by his imminent rebirth, had little strength left to continue.
Even so, the battle hadn't been fruitless. Evans slipped past another bolt of lightning and let a slow smile tug at the corner of his lips as he looked at the woman seated upon the throne.
By now, he had confirmed a crucial fact. Though the woman had condensed into a physical form, she still could not leave the center where the throne stood.
A target that couldn't move meant that if he could muster enough damage to break her defenses, she would be nothing but a living bullseye.
Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, his Terramotus (Stomping Charm) couldn't connect with the ground inside this pyramid. He could still use it, but its power had fallen sharply—now little better than an enhanced Explosion Curse.
But Terramotus wasn't his only powerful attack. The cost was simply high, which was why he rarely used it.
And now was not the time to fret about cost.
"Boom!"
Another bolt cracked toward the ground, and the young man evaded it with ease again, which only deepened the irritation on the woman's face.
A fairy's danger sense combined with a Diricawl's flash—this whelp was even more infuriating than Merlin in his prime.
At least Merlin, for all his infuriating banter in a duel, usually fought head-on. This mosquito-chasing nonsense had never been so nauseating.
Fine. Keep flashing. Let's see how long your stamina holds.
Her eyes skimmed the battlefield, searching for the annoying insect's hiding place.
Then something blurred before her eyes. An arm appeared in her view.
It wasn't quite like an ordinary arm. Through the skin, she could see a strange liquid flowing through the veins, glowing with an orange-red light.
"Erumpent venom?" For the first time, a trace of gravity entered her voice. She lifted her head and fixed her gaze on the young man who had appeared before her with a faint smile. "You know this will kill you even if it kills me."
"Not necessarily. I could slice it off and toss it beside you, then flash out. At worst, I lose an arm." Evans's grin looked forced; having Erumpent venom surge through his veins didn't exactly feel pleasant.
"One arm's venom won't kill me," she said coldly. "Would you go this far for him? I only want to know where he's hiding."
"One arm not enough? I've got another. Worst case, two legs as well." Evans shrugged with a tinge of resignation. "And I've already said I don't even know Merlin."
"Hmph." She clearly didn't believe him, but she also didn't strike. Even the monsters around them stilled.
If the boy really did what he said and blew off all four limbs, she couldn't be sure she'd block it. The venom coursing through him was already far stronger than a normal Erumpent's.
Even if she blocked it, the cost would be steep.
They held there for several seconds. Pain prickled through Evans's arm, and he spoke again.
No helping it. Another minute or two and he really would lose this arm.
"How about we talk?"
"Talk?" She frowned and stared at him. "Unless you tell me where Merlin is, we have nothing to discuss."
"Don't be so absolute." Evans forced a smile. "First, let me stress it again—I truly don't know where he is. I've never even met him."
She scoffed, but his next words made her hesitate.
"Exactly because I've never met him, we actually have room to negotiate."
"I don't know Merlin. I gain nothing by hiding anything for him, and I'm curious about my connection to him. If you're willing, we can cooperate."
"Let me leave. I'll find leads about Merlin for you. If you don't trust me, we can bind the contract with a soul oath."
Seeing her expression waver, Evans continued:
"If I blow off both arms and both legs—and if I get truly desperate, blow myself up—there won't be much left of your pyramid either."
He lifted the orange-red arm again, part threat, part persuasion.
"Well? Think it over?"
"Why are there more and more of these things?"
Outside the pyramid, Charlie rubbed at his throbbing temples and couldn't help complaining. "If this goes on, we won't hold!"
Ever since Evans had entered the pyramid, the monsters' rate of formation had slowed noticeably, but their numbers still kept rising with no sign of stopping.
Once there were enough of them, even slow formation became a crushing burden.
Already, some shambling forms had fully condensed and were attacking. If not for the fact that everyone out here—Aurors aside—counted as elite, and that Evans's magical creature friends were helping, their line would have collapsed long ago.
In a brief gap between spells, Charlie glanced back at the Aurors, already drained to the point of collapse, and grimaced.
"Just a little longer. Evans hasn't come out yet. We can't retreat," Bill said. His temples had begun to throb as well, a sign that his stamina had reached a dangerous edge.
Fortunately, the three bounty hunters behind them were still standing on deep reserves and could fight, and Evans's friends remained uninjured. Even if Bill and Charlie went down, they could hold for ten more minutes at least.
If Evans didn't return in that time, though, the situation would turn sharply against them.
Just as Bill took stock of the battlefield, he noticed the mist formation before him—nearly coalesced into a monster—suddenly froze, then slowly dispersed midair.
Not only his. Other mist formations in the distance stalled at once and drifted away one by one.
The thin veil of black mist in the sky drew inward toward the pyramid. Then even the solid gold pyramid began to blur, leaving those gathered completely at a loss.
The pyramid grew fainter and fainter, like a projection slowly fading from the air until it was gone.
Only one figure remained at what had been its exact center—a young man, standing quietly with a brilliant crimson sphere in his hand.