BOOOMMM!!
SsssshhHHhhhhh!
The waves of air trembled violently as they sliced through everything in their path, cutting down debris, shattering remnants of buildings, and sending razor-sharp gusts in all directions.
In the midst of this chaos, a lone figure moved with insane precision, twisting and leaping through the deadly winds. She barely avoided the airwaves by mere inches, her silvery-white hair whipping wildly as the force of the wind snapped away stray strands.
Aria—once a woman who couldn’t even lift a finger against her so-called chosen Ex-husband—was now standing face-to-face against him, fighting with everything she had.
BOOM!
She knocked an arrow, the weapon slicing through the air with lethal accuracy. Alaric’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, just barely dodging it. His expression twisted in annoyance as he took a step back, eyes scanning Aria with something almost close to disbelief.
“Hah,” he scoffed, shaking his head as if the mere idea of her challenging him was laughable. “Not bad… for a filthy slut.” His voice dripped with disdain, his lips curling into a sneer.
Aria didn’t react to the insult, her fingers tightening around her bow instead.
Alaric jumped down from his perch, landing effortlessly as the ground cracked slightly beneath his weight. His hand moved, swift and brutal, aiming to strike her down in a single blow.
Aria, who had been nimbly dodging the air waves, suddenly halted for a fraction of a second. A stray wind blade nicked her forearm, a thin line of crimson appearing—but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she used the moment to raise her bow, blocking Alaric’s direct attack with an unshaken stance.
“Arrrghh!” Aria let out a guttural growl as their weapons clashed, the sheer force of his attack sending a tremor through her arms.
Alaric’s expression darkened with pure hatred as he glared at her. “The moment you threw yourself into the arms of that pathetic servant… you lost every ounce of value you ever had,” he spat venomously.
With a sharp twist of his wrist, he grabbed a fistful of Aria’s hair and yanked her forward before slamming her head down into the dirt.
BAM!
A dull ringing filled her ears as her vision blurred for a second. Blood trickled down from her nose, the taste of iron filling her mouth. But even as pain radiated through her skull, her body reacted instinctively.
With a sharp inhale, she bent her knee and, in one fluid motion, swung her leg upward, kicking him square in the cheek with full force.
BAM!
Alaric staggered back slightly, his body jerking to the side before he caught himself. His fingers flexed, his head snapping back toward her with an expression of pure, seething rage.
“You fucking whore!” he roared, his disgust evident. His jaw tightened as if the very thought of her landing a hit on him was an insult.
Aria grinned, wiping the blood from her nose with the back of her hand. “Oh? What’s the matter, Alaric?” she taunted, tilting her head slightly,
“You don’t seem too thrilled about getting your ass handed to you. Are you sure you’re as strong as you think you are? Because last time I checked, a few months ago, you nearly killed me in a single blow. And now?” She let out a soft chuckle, drawing back her bowstring as a glowing arrow materialized in her grasp. “Now, I think this is what people would call an upgrade.”
With a swift release, she fired.
Alaric, still bristling with fury, barely glanced at the incoming attack before swatting the arrow aside with a casual flick of his hand. The force sent a sharp gust through the battlefield, but Aria didn’t stop. She fired again. And again.
Alaric’s lips curled into a smirk. “Pathetic,” he muttered, shaking his head. He lifted a single hand and snapped his fingers.
The air shifted.
For a brief moment, everything stilled—like the world had taken a single, sharp inhale before—
SsssssssssHHhhhhhhhhhh!!
A monstrous tornado exploded into existence, roaring to life as it spiraled out of control, pulling everything into its deadly vortex.
“Are you fucking serious?!” Thalia shouted in pure frustration. She was already locked in a battle against a huge figure that refused to budge, and now this?
She shot a glance at Aqualina, who met her eyes with a nod. “Just a little longer… I think I found a way!” Aqualina called out, her voice barely audible over the howling winds.
Thalia groaned before stomping the ground, anchoring herself in place.
Meanwhile, Kaelen was less fortunate. His body was already being dragged toward the storm’s pull, his feet struggling for any hold.
“Shit!” he cursed through gritted teeth, forcing himself to grab onto a nearby post with his fingers. His wounded muscles screamed, his already battered body barely able to hold on. The wind howled louder, the pressure increasing until—
His grip failed.
“Fuck!” Kaelen yelled as his fingers slipped, his body instantly yanked toward the swirling deathtrap. He braced himself for impact, for pain, for the inevitable—
But it never came.
“Huh…?” He blinked, confused. He wasn’t dead?
He looked down, his breath catching when he saw a hooded figure gripping his wrist. The stranger held onto him firmly, slowly pulling him away from the storm’s grasp.
Kaelen blinked again, “Who the hell…?”
Meanwhile—
Alaric let out a dark, amused chuckle, his voice carrying over the howling winds. “What’s the matter, slut? Getting tired already?” His golden eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he watched Aria struggle against the storm’s force.
She was rooted to the ground, her muscles locked in place, knowing that even the slightest misstep would send her straight into the vortex. The sheer force of the tornado was relentless, devouring everything in its path. Empty buildings were sucked inside as if they weighed nothing.
She needed to stop this.
But stopping something like this with her current power?
It was damn near impossible.
She wasn’t an elemental user. She was a hunter—a killer of prey, not a master of storms. Unlike Alaric, she had no natural affinity for the air. The only way she had ever used it was to guide her arrow–
Wait!
Her breath hitched as a thought struck her.
Her sharp, hunter-like eyes scanned the battlefield, moving with precision as if she were tracking the perfect shot. Her gaze cut through the chaos, through the storm, through the debris—
And then, her focus landed on Alaric.
Standing right behind the tornado.
A slow grin stretched across her face.
“Well, I suppose I could do it,” Aria murmured.
And with that, she released her grip on the post, allowing the violent winds to snatch her up.
Her body spiralled upward, vanishing into the raging vortex.
Alaric’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before a cruel chuckle rumbled from his throat. His amusement was palpable as he watched her get consumed by the storm, her figure twisting and flailing within its unrelenting pull.
She had finally given up.
“Pathetic,” he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s what you get for being a slut.”
His grin widened as he watched her tumble through the tornado, yet even as she spun uncontrollably, something caught his eye.
She was still firing arrows.
Randomly?
Alaric raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching in mild intrigue. ‘Is she that desperate?’ he mused, watching her movements with keen interest.
But Aria wasn’t acting out of desperation.
She was hunting.
As her body twisted midair, she drew in a deep, measured breath, steadying herself against the chaotic momentum.
“Hunt the prey,” she whispered.
The moment the words left her lips, her bow responded. The combat wheels roared, spinning at full throttle, the mechanisms glowing faintly as they absorbed the force of the storm. It was as if the bow itself had become an extension of her, syncing with her intent. Smoke curled from the metal as she pulled the string back, her fingers steady despite the whirlwind consuming her.
Then—she let go.
The arrow tore through the tornado’s tangential currents, bending to its force rather than resisting it. Like a predator striking in perfect timing, it rode the storm’s violent motion, completing an entire revolution around the vortex before hurtling toward its real target—Alaric.
For the first time, Alaric’s smirk faltered.
The arrow sliced through the air, closing in with unnatural precision.
“Tch, easy,” he scoffed, raising his hand at the last moment. With a flick of his fingers, he caught it effortlessly, his grip tightening around the shaft mere inches before it could pierce his throat.
A chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“Hah… Not bad,” he muttered, twirling the arrow between his fingers. His eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he watched Aria’s spiralling form.
‘Even though she’s just a filthy slut, she’s got a hell of a talent with arrows,’ he thought. He was about to taunt her when—
Thwip!
Before he could utter another word, a second arrow struck.
And it went straight through his mouth!!
Alaric’s entire body tensed. His eyes widened in shock as the arrowhead burst through the side of his cheek, slicing through his tongue like a hot knife through butter.
The pain didn’t register immediately.
For a brief moment, he just… stood there, blinking.
It was only when he saw blood splatter onto the ground that realization dawned.
‘What…?’
It had been a flawless setup.
The first arrow was nothing more than a distraction. The real shot had been the second one—ricocheting off a crumbling building, using the structure as a springboard to change its trajectory. A perfect, calculated curve.
And now, his tongue lay in pieces.
But it wasn’t over.
Aria, still twisting within the storm, snapped her fingers.
BOOOOM!!
The arrow in Alaric’s hand detonated.
A violent explosion rocked the battlefield.
THUDD!!
The tornado collapsed in an instant.
The raging winds screeched before dying down completely. Debris and rubble plummeted from the sky like falling meteors, creating a massive shockwave that sent tremors through the empire.
The once-devastating storm was gone.
“Arrrrffff!!”
Alaric let out a ragged, distorted groan.
Blood spewed from his lips as he staggered, his body convulsing from the pain. His left hand—obliterated. His face—burned, torn apart by the force of the explosion.
And then—
Chuuuccckkkllkk!!
With a sickening, wet splatter—his severed tongue hit the ground.
Splash.
Splash.
Alaric’s entire frame trembled. His breathing turned ragged, uneven. He stared down, his body frozen in disbelief as he saw the bloody chunk of flesh lying at his feet.
Then—
“Arrrrrhh… nnorrrrrrrr!!” A distorted, guttural scream tore from his throat.
“You are the most incompetent Chosen One I have ever seen in my life.”
The voice was cold.
Devoid of sympathy.
As the dust settled, a lone figure emerged from the ruins.
Aria.
She walked forward with slow, deliberate steps, her expression unreadable. Graceful and unshaken, she descended from the debris like a queen stepping down to pass her final judgment.
Her eyes met Alaric’s trembling form, watching as blood continued to seep from his ruined mouth.
“Why did Arcane even choose you?” she mused, her tone empty, impassive. “You are nothing but a pathetic coward who flaunts his power against the weak.”
Each word was a dagger, slicing through his fractured pride.
Alaric’s body quivered under her gaze, his mind screaming in humiliation.
“How does it feel, Alaric?”
Aria’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.
“To be reduced to nothing? To be incompetent?”
…. Something snapped inside him.
His vision blurred with rage.
His entire being burned with an uncontainable, violent fury.
A slut dared to call him incompetent?
Him?
The second-strongest powerhouse in the empire?
He… incompetent?
His bloodied mouth parted, and a guttural, distorted sound escaped.
“Aaarr… kaannnggg—”
A violent glow erupted from his chest.
A shimmering, rainbow-coloured card materialized before him,
Then—
Trrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Ground trembled!