Chapter 198: Destroy The Cursed (15)

Chapter 198

Without wasting a second, he summoned more arrows—this time mixing in two shimmering blue ones among the pink barrage. The moment he released them, the arrows collided with the oncoming fireballs. The result was chaotic—one-third of the flames were neutralized, but it wasn’t enough. The remaining infernos slammed into his barrier with terrifying force.

BOOM!

The protective shield groaned, cracks spidering through its surface. For a moment, it held... then shattered with a sharp, crystalline scream.

Shin dived to the side, rolling across the ash-covered ground as a cascade of fireballs crashed down where he had just stood.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Each impact shook the battlefield. Dirt and flame flew into the sky.

He narrowly escaped, but not unscathed. Pain surged through his body—his left arm and side were burned. His skin sizzled with heat, the pain sharp and relentless.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright. His breathing was ragged. Then he looked up—and rage filled his eyes.

The red Vanguard stood unmoved, her wicked grin still plastered across her face. Her expression was mocking, almost playful, as if she found joy in toying with him.

Despite the blazing air, Shin suddenly felt a chill crawl down his spine. His instincts screamed at him.

Then it hit him. The air was hot—too hot. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what she had done.



The sky above twisted with light and flame. Dozens—no, hundreds—of fireballs rained down, each glowing white-hot with deadly energy.

"She’s trying to kill me..." Shin muttered, stunned. He shook his head. No—of course she is. This wasn’t training. This was war. But this... this was overkill. It felt personal. Rabid.

There was no time to dwell. The fireballs were already upon him.

Drawing his bow with everything he had, several blue arrows materialized, each buzzing with defensive power.

Not only was Shin struggling to hold his ground against the powerful Red Vanguards, but the entire allied hero forces were facing overwhelming pressure on all fronts. The Red Vanguards were not just strong—they were elite, monstrously powerful, and coordinated like a force forged by chaos and discipline alike. These weren’t opponents that could be dealt with using brute strength alone. They were ruthless, cunning, and terrifyingly efficient.

Bron let out a furious growl, his brow furrowed into a deep scowl. He clenched his fists, summoning massive white energy hands that mirrored his own. With a roar, he brought them crashing down like celestial hammers toward the blood-red armored figures below. The ground quaked under the impact—but the duo he was targeting were already gone, having evaded his attack with effortless speed and flawless teamwork.

"Damn it! Can’t you just stand still for one second, you bastard?!" Bron barked with maddening rage, his voice booming like thunder.

His fists clenched tighter as he glared at the two Red Vanguards. Their blood-red armor gleamed ominously under the battlefield’s fractured light, and they wore the expression of bored predators toying with prey they didn’t think worthy. Their condescending smirks made Bron’s blood boil. If he could just land one clean hit—just one—he was certain he could turn the tide and take them both down. But therein lay the problem.

The duo’s skillset was as infuriating as it was deadly. They weren’t just evasive—they were super fast, mirage dancers who slipped through reality itself. Getting close enough to strike them felt like trying to grab smoke with bare hands.

Bron adjusted the gauntlet strapped to his forearm. With a pulse of white light, the energy constructs around him reshaped—the massive hands shrinking from their previous titanic size to something more compact and faster, now only slightly larger than his own arms.

Across from him, the Red Vanguards seemed to sense his resolve shift. Their smirks vanished. Without a word, they reached behind their backs and drew curved daggers—two each—gleaming with a crimson hue that pulsed like veins filled with wrath.

Bron didn’t give them time to act. He shot forward, punching with one of the newly formed white fists. The blow came faster than before, splitting the air with a sharp shriek—but the duo vanished in a blur again, moving like whispers of wind.

Streaks of blood splattered across Bron’s cheeks—thin, shallow cuts. One attacker had gone left, the other right, slicing him in perfect synchronicity. He barely managed to keep up with their movement, his rage threatening to eclipse his focus.



"You damn pests!" Bron roared, wiping the blood from his face. "I’ll tear you both apart!"

He hated the Cursed, all of them. But these two? They were in a league of their own. Hate didn’t begin to describe it. He wanted them dead.

Snarling, Bron reignited his assault, fists blurring as he chased the shadows around him.

---

Elsewhere on the battlefield, another confrontation was reaching its boiling point.

"You should give up," a voice sneered. "You’re surrounded."

The voice came from one of five Red Vanguards who had encircled a lone figure standing calmly in the center of their formation. She wore partial armor—elegantly crafted—and a long robe of blue that shimmered like moonlight on the ocean. Her hair, cascading in waves down her back, was the same shade of blue, and her eyes sparkled like sapphires. Despite the danger, she wore an amused expression, as if she were indulging children rather than facing death.

Elexa, Class A hero rank two, and she wasn’t the least bit worried.

The five Red Vanguards were not the elite echelon, but they were far from weak. Experienced, coordinated, and fierce, they had been sent to eliminate key threats, and Elexa was one of the top priorities. Her speed, intelligence, and mastery of elemental manipulation had made her a thorn in their side for too long.

"You Cursed are all the same," Elexa said with a sigh, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Loud, overconfident, and painfully boring."

Her words struck a nerve—but not for the reason one might expect. The only female among the Red Vanguards grit her teeth in frustration.

"Why are we even talking to her?" she snapped. "We’re supposed to kill her, not gawk at her like love-struck idiots!"

It was true—despite themselves, most of the male vanguards had been momentarily stunned by Elexa’s beauty. But her taunt snapped them back to focus. With a collective shout, they all activated their energy techniques, launching a coordinated barrage of attacks from all directions.

Blasts of flame, wind, and energy erupted across the field.



And yet... Elexa moved like a breeze between falling leaves.

She ducked, twirled, flipped, and glided through the onslaught with balletic grace. Not a single attack hit her. Her feet never touched the ground; she hovered effortlessly in midair, as if the laws of physics were hers to mock.

Staring in disbelief, the Red Vanguards tried again, intensifying their efforts.

Still, she dodged them all.

Then Elexa’s expression changed.

Her smile widened—not warm or playful, but something else. Something darker. Those who knew her well—truly knew her—would have trembled upon seeing it.

Because that smile never came without consequences.

Crackling blue lightning danced around her form, crawling over her skin like an extension of her wrath. Her eyes glowed with azure brilliance. Slowly, she raised her right hand and pointed a single finger at the group.

She cocked her head slightly and said with a singsong tone, deceptively cheerful yet dripping with danger:

"It’s sparkle time."

---

TO BE CONTINUED........