A Gorgeous White

Chapter 316: Pursuing Into Battle

The sounds of rage and desperations filled his ears, and the scent of ancient earth filled his nostrils.

A slither of anger drove inside Moulin's veins. His first action was to throw a threatening glare at Ghana. However, his whole attention was directed to the lone person standing in the distance. The shouts of battle continued behind him, whispering to his ears like a passing breeze, but he didn't spare a glance. That unpleasant smile on the man's lips made Moulin want to rip off out of his face and shred it bloody. A hand reached for his shoulder, squeezing it. Moulin relaxed slightly. His lips thinned.

The enormous creature shifted its head to the puny maeruthan approaching its feet. The earth rumbled and shook against the sound from its throat. The beast is wary and filled with fury.

Lifting his emerald eyes, Quade stood, brimming with confidence and spite. Before the eyes of the massive creature, surrounded with the dense clouds of malice, Quade bent a knee as if to acknowledge a king. His hand reached out as if to present a marvelous work, the halls marred and broken, filled with earthly spikes.

The beast continues to stare at him, assessing the human's form.

"My King, I have come to aid you. They are nothing under your eyes. They must be punished. Death. " Quade then lifted his eyes. His gaze gleamed brightly, brimming with hidden malice and the excitement of slaughter. "Allow me to be your side, and all will be finished."

His voice is almost begging. Manic desperation sits within his eyes. There was the thirst for revenge, swirling like thorny vines around his heart. The smile on his lops is irksome but fawning. For a couple of seconds, the beast gazes at him like a butcher assessing meat. The ground cracked beneath its massive claws, and its tail slapped the earth behind it like a whip.

Finally, a low roar filled the air as the beast tilted its head upwards to the ceiling. The sound sent chills down every being's spine as if death was standing behind them. Quade's eyes deepened, and his grin widened. A satisfied expression filled his face. It didn't fade even when he rose from the ground. A deep cackle escaped his mouth as his eyes swept around the area. Finally, his gaze paused at a particular pair of gold and silver. His grin stretches.

Moulin clenched his fists. His heart pounded erratically within his ribcage. Quade has joined hands with the Demonic Lion. A drop of sweat fell from the youth's forehead.

RRRUUUUMMMBBBLLLEEEE!

Suddenly, the earth beneath his feet shook violently. It was as if a slumbering beast had awoken beneath them. Alarmed, caution rang inside Moulin's head. His head is raised, and he witnessed Quade lifting his hands, engulfed with the sick glow of green. The tremors grew stronger.

Before Moulin could act, he was caught in surprise when large hands suddenly wrapped around his waist, lifting him from the floor and settling him on Snow's back. Moulin blinked, seeing Hadrian seriously mount snow behind him. His large body is towering over Moulin's slender form. At the corner of his eyes, Harow took Malyana in his arms and maeruthans, ignoring orcs as they cast shields around them. Ghana was quick at Jagra's side.

And then a powerful wave of energy spreads out beneath the surface of the earth from where Quade had stood. The floors cracked and broke, separating as the wave of energy passed it. Maeruthans and orcs were thrown off as the ground abruptly broke, throwing them off to the air. The farther the energy traveled, the stronger and the more violent the force. The burst of power was enough to destroy the whole castle.

Snow growled, he eyed the shifting of ground, sensing the wave approaching them. The Oppallian beast sank its claws on the ground before he leaped over the surge of energy. However, the remnants of power lingered in the air, and the fox almost stumbled when it landed. Fortunately, Snow refused to lose face in front of his master. He landed skillfully on the cracked ground with ease. The menacing mana still lingered in the air.

When it ended, Moulin glanced behind, and his face paled. More of their comrades were injured. Others were trapped beneath boulders that ripped themselves off the ground, and some were stuck within the small gaps of the broken earth. The orcs weren't the least affected by the disaster. However, their healing abilities were far quicker than a maeruthan's, especially when they've transformed.

With a look from Hadrian, Ghana and Jagra worked together to rescue their fallen comrades while resisting the orcs.

Moulin jumped down Snow's back, patting the beast to go and help the others. Hadrian dismounted and grabbed his arm.

"What are you going to do?" The golden-eyed man questioned.

Moulin said faintly. "Distract the beast. Our friends have suffered enough. We must drive its attention elsewhere." Before his words ended, Moulin softened his eyes. "We have to buy time..."

"Why?" Hadrian narrowed his eyes.

Moulin briefly explained Accrius, the orcan lord's brother, and the pride's obsession to avenge their kind.

"I'll do it with you." Hadrian declared, loosening his hold around Moulin. He ended the conversation before Moulin could say a word.

Helplessly, Moulin lifted the corner of his lips.

"!!!"

A hair-raising feeling enveloped Moulin. Silver eyes abruptly shifted and turned, meeting the devilish gaze of the beast. It was eyeing them and no one else and imprisoning the young man within its wicked eyes. Its jaws parted.

Moulin instantly stepped in front of Hadrian. Within his palms, the sacred bow of ice materialized within seconds. At the same instance, a burst of flames shot towards them. Moulin was too late to draw an arrow. The burning heat instantly met the weapon. However, as if there was an invisible force, the flames could not touch them. It is like a river split in half.

Moulin winced. Although the flames couldn't reach them, the heat was too much. He could feel it against him as though scratching his skin, blistering and fiery. His knuckles whitened in strain and reddened in heat.

Suddenly, he felt a hand grasp his fingers. A tall figure was moving behind him. Hadrian.

They weaved their fingers, and electricity crackled. The violence and dominance spoke in the air. Moulin felt the hand he used to resist with his bow was enveloped with soothing warmth, Hadrian's hand. Their skin touched, and the bond sizzled ablaze brighter than the murderous red fire. The vibrant mixture of energy, a divine blend of power, surged through Moulin's meridians. He felt his spirit brighten, fueled endlessly as their energy fused.

Then Moulin's hand was moving. Hadrian, guiding him, positioning his arms until he found himself pulling the string of his bow amidst the raging fire. He only felt a soothing warmth. A corner of Moulin's lips smiled. His silver eyes narrowed dangerously.

A blaze of crackling energy materialized within the arrow rest, solidifyingan arrow, three times larger than Moulin's largest. Shimmering vibrantly, glowing with pure relentless mana.

Feeling Hadrian's breath behind his ear, Moulin didn't need to be told.

Whoosh!

The string snapped into place, and a brilliant light pierced through the blazing fire, like a boulder separating a river. It cut through the massive flames effortlessly, like cutting through the wind.

The third eye on the beast's forehead grew wide. The giant's mouth slammed shut, and a barrier was quickly erected in a split second. The arrowhead collided with the barrier.

BOOOM!

Shatter!

A terrifying explosion took place. Blinding light lit up half the halls, and the savage mana swept throughout the area, arousing a wave of fear. The malevolent barrier shattered! It was useless against divine energy so pure it seemed to scald the beast. The arrow disappeared. Its energy lingered in the air.

The beast was thrown off, crashing back against the throne's wall. It released a bellowing cry. The air was like poison to him.

Moulin's eyes widened. He could still feel the mana vibrating at the tips of his fingers. Panting, Moulin glanced at his sacred weapon. A shimmer of gold was reflected within his silver eyes. Imprints of foreign gold markings embellished his silver bow of ice as if it had found a new source of amassing energy.

With raised eyebrows, Moulin glanced behind his shoulder.

"We're practicing this...."

Hadrian kissed the curve of the youth's neck. Concealing his idea of another kind of 'practice.' They were oblivious to the silence around them.

"..."

However, they were not finished.

The beast struggled to rise on his feet. Burnt fur and flesh marred half of its face. The meat sizzled as if scorched. Low, furious growls filled the halls, saturated with a vengeance. The Dark Lion rose, lifting its head, refusing to yield. If he had returned to his human form, the humiliation with be as clear as the purest water in Corhan.

Quade, who had been thrown back from the impact of the explosion, was on his feet indifferently. His eyes glanced at the beast's enormous form before returning his gaze to the rest of the hall, specifically on a particular young aphrodite. His mouth silently moved in a chant.

Moulin stared at the beast, recovering from the shot. He took a step back in frustration. His patience has run out. Hadrian caressed his back comfortingly.

"Why doesn't it die already-"

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

"...?"

Moulin paused. The floor was trembling once more. But it wasn't the beast's doing.

Bang! Bang!

'It's growing nearer?'

Moulin slowly turned his head as the others did. It sounded as if the neighboring walls were being detonated one after the other. One didn't realize the silence occupying the halls for a few seconds.

Nearer and nearer, the sound grew... until...

BOOOOMMMM!

A huge explosion just above the hall's entrance. The ceiling crashed until the ground beneath. It left a gigantic hole gaping at the people below. Rock, crystals, wood fella and rained upon the shocked beings beneath. Dust saturated the air.

Swish!

Blinded by the cloud of smoke, one could only hear the movements of the wind. A blade slashed through the dirtied air.

Moulin felt the wind against his face, but he could not see. Somehow, familiar mana washed over him. Silver eyes widened, and his gaze snapped to the direction at the end of the smoke.

Exiting the dusty cloud, the man leaped in the air. Dirt clung to his clothes bit he cared the least about it. Two hands grasped the solid body of the sacred weapon he wieldeda scythe made of pure indestructible ice. The curve of its blade glinted dangerously.

Grey eyes narrowed ruthlessly. Emlen rapidly charged through the obstacles of the ground and jumped on a risen rock. He was fast. His figure, almost a blur to the naked eye. In a split second, he was in the air. Scythe raised.

With threatening eyes, Emlen swung.

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