Chapter 272
Sera’s expression slowly shifted, the playful amusement in her gaze fading into cold detachment.
A mask.
A carefully worn one, but beneath it—
Rage burned.
Right at this moment, despite her mocking words, despite the smirk curling at her lips, the truth was that she was seething.
The earlier incident was still fresh in her memory—that humiliating moment when she had been tricked, led by the nose, caught off guard by a mere boy.
And he had escaped.
A human child had humiliated her, an inquisitor.
Unacceptable.
It was a massive dent to her honor, her pride, her very existence.
She clenched her jaw.
Imagine surrounding a weak chick with a pack of wolves—only for that small chick to outwit the entire pack, making fools of them, leading them in circles as if they were nothing but obedient dogs.
Nothing could be more shameful.
And yet—
It had happened.
Reality was cruel—she and her soldiers, an entire force, had failed to capture a single human child.
She, along with hundreds of demon soldiers, had failed.
Not only that, but they had also suffered heavy losses. It was not just failure; it was disgrace.
She could already foresee the chaos that would unfold at headquarters upon their return. The scorn. The whispers. The sneers behind her back.
But she would endure it.
As long as she got her hands on him.
As long as she could drag him back—broken, beaten, and at her mercy.
His value had skyrocketed since their last encounter. That mysterious ability to hide things from her perception… That alone was worth risking everything.
Now, according to her, it was worth it to mess with those fools at headquarters, as long as she had Oliver and his secrets.
And more than that—
She could not accept being outdone.
She would make him pay.
For daring to fool her.
For daring to escape.
For daring to think he could hurt her.
This time—
She would break him
This time, there were no loose ends, no oversights—only inevitability
She was prepared to crush him, even if it meant beating him half to death first.
_________________
There was a moment of silence between them, broken only by the occasional gust of wind.
Then—
Boom!
A sharp crack split the air—Sera was gone.
Oliver barely had time to process before—
A glint of silver—then a blur, slicing through the air with lethal precision.
She was already upon him.
Faster.
More aggressive.
This time, she was done holding back.
Not because she wanted to show him her real strength—but because she could no longer afford to be careless.
Not with him.
Not anymore.
Some damage could be tolerated. A broken body could still be interrogated.
But first—
She would tear him apart.
Her claws slashed forward, a vicious arc—unforgiving, razor-sharp. But Oliver had seen this before.
He stepped back, dodging—
Only for her trajectory to shift mid-swing.
A bait.
The real attack followed half a breath later, lower, aimed at his ribs.
And then—
Oliver moved.
A strange flicker of his hands—
Just when her sharp and dangerous claws were about to tear Oliver apart, he made a strange gesture, a strange sign with his hands.
Rupture!
Icicles.
A barrage of them materialized from nowhere, their crystalline edges glinting with deadly intent as they hurtled toward her.
Multiple sharp icicles ruthlessly were formed and shot towards the incoming demonic woman.
Bang!
Sera gritted her teeth, skidding backward as the projectiles struck. She swung her claws wildly—too fast, too hard—and the ice shattered like fragile glass. But the force was excessive, throwing her slightly off balance.
A mistake. A tiny, fleeting mistake. But Oliver saw it..
But she did not stop.
A fiery blade materialized in her grip, shimmering with a dark, hungry aura.
Heat rolled off the blade in suffocating waves. The acrid scent of burning metal stung her nose.
One swing—
A searing wave of heat erupted.
The remaining icicles flaoting in the air melted instantly.
And then—
Tap Tap Tap.
She walked.
Slow. Deliberate.
Then—
A blur.
She was upon him again, sword slicing in a perfect horizontal arc.
Oliver twisted his body at the last second—barely dodging the fiery edge.
And in the same instant—
A yellow talisman left his fingertips.
Swish!
Sera leaped backward just before the talisman struck.
The moment it touched the ground—
Boom!
An explosion. A violent one.
Debris scattered. Smoke billowed.
But even through the haze—
She saw him.
She looked and saw Oliver forming a hand seal with his index and middle fingers joined together.
A flurry of talismans appeared before him; he moved his fingers, and the papers in the air obeyed his will. He pointed at her using the hand seal, and the talismans moved at full speed towards Sera, who, on her end, took two steps back and clapped her hands.
Clap!
The sound ripped through the battlefield.
From the ground—vines exploded upward, snapping like whips, colliding with the flying talismans.
Boom!
The smoke had not yet cleared when Oliver heard her voice behind the smoke wall.
Her voice cut through the air—
“Cursed Chains of Suffering.”
Oliver’s stomach dropped.
A flicker of shadow from within the smoke—
Then—
Dark vines erupted, twisting like living creatures, lunging for him.
He blinked—
And vanished.
[Six Thoughtful Steps of the Spirits.]
His footwork left silver afterimages in his wake, shifting and flickering—too fast to follow.
Sera’s eyes sharpened, tracking his every flicker of movement. The cursed chains, pulsing with dark espera, coiled like hunting serpents, seeking to ensnare him.
But instead of retreating—
He advanced.
His left hand raised slightly forward—calm, controlled.
A glimmer of frost gathered at his fingertips.
[Frostbite Bloom]
It was one of the perks of the [Eternal Winter Physique] that he had developed after continuous practice all this time.
The ice did not form into simple shards.
Instead—
A flower bloomed.
He sent it hurtling toward her.
Sera reacted, her claws lashing out.
The frozen flower shattered on contact.
But—
A burst of icy mist exploded outward.
She inhaled.
And paused.
Slower.
It was subtle—a brief lag in movement.
The freezing mist had special properties.
But Oliver saw it.
The opening.
He took it and launched fast attacks.
But Sera—
She was not so easily slowed.
Her demonic sword shifted.
A flicker—
And then—
She was in front of him.
Her blade moved strangely.
Each strike—a delayed afterimage followed.
Not one attack—but two.
Each of her slashes had a delayed afterimage of the same attack that followed a split second later, forcing him to dodge twice for every attack.
Each time he dodged—another identical strike followed half a second later.
It was a special weapon technique that Sera had learned.
Oliver gritted his teeth.
A nightmare to evade, evident by the constant wounds appearing on his skin.
His footwork blurred—[Six Thoughtful Steps of the Spirits.]
He managed to create some distance.
Sera paused.
She exhaled.
“Haah… You think only you know movement techniques?”
Her lips curled in a wicked manner.
Dark espera surged around her.
Her smirk widened.
And then—
She vanished.
