Chapter 20: The Battle is Intense (Physically).
Amid the flames, the pink-haired girl laughed, fierce and dangerous, her swordplay laced with chilling intent.
The stench of charred flesh filled the air, the crackle of fire blending with screams into a hellish symphony.
Flo cursed under his breath and veered left to avoid her.
That forced slumber had already cost him too much time.
Running into this “Pink Chick” now would only lead to more bickering and delays…
He trusted Ifrora to prioritize the bigger picture, but he wasn’t sure he could keep his cool.
Like a guilty Jerry, he tiptoed to slip away, but the battle behind grew fiercer.
The temperature spiked, and Flo told himself it was the array’s doing, refusing to admit that pink figure was already blocking his path.
Nothing he wanted to do in this life ever seemed to work out.
Divine punishment?
More like those two unreliable goddesses slapping him with a bad-luck debuff.
In the end, the boy trying to detour couldn’t escape that blazing figure.
Congrats, congrats.
Congrats, my foot!
Flo was a mess, awkwardly waving and stammering, “H-Hi… hi?”
“What a coincidence, running into Pointy-Ears here.
Sadly, I’m busy with important stuff, so no time to mess with you.
Don’t be too heartbroken, Pointy-Ears~”
Excuse me? Like you’re the only one with things to do?
And…
“As if I want you to mess with me!”
Flo expected the girl to keep teasing, but she dropped her playful demeanor, turning serious.
“Your goal’s the same as mine, right, Pointy-Ears~?”
Flo blinked, then matched her tone.
“You trust me that much?”
“Who else would I trust, my dear childhood friend?”
As lifelong playmates, Ifrora knew Flo’s abilities well.
She was a genius, but arrays were beyond her expertise.
Flo, on the other hand—despite the world branding the Astraea heir a useless, male failure unable to wield time or miracle magic—had talent in other areas.
How could the child of those two be ordinary, even without magic or divine powers?
“You’re giving me chills…
Fine, I’ll count this as my win.”
Flo nodded with a grin.
“Taking advantage, huh, Pointy-Ears?”
Ifrora raised an eyebrow, hands on hips, smirking at him.
“That’s not what ‘taking advantage’ means!”
Flo was done arguing, but they didn’t stop moving.
With Flo leading, Ifrora followed obediently, tracing the black mana’s flow.
By the way, ordinary people couldn’t see this black mana, but as an Astraea, Flo was naturally sensitive to dark magic.
Now, with the elven power of nature boosting him, spotting these mana particles through technique was easy—though by now, the black mana had formed a thick line.
This meant the array was drawing fuel far more intensely than before.
*
At the other end of the orphanage, flames roared like a frenzied phoenix, its shrieks piercing.
“The Phoenix Earl, as brutally direct as the rumors say.”
Beneath a black-purple cloak, a man’s voice rasped like scraping metal.
His skeletal, claw-like hand gripped a bird-headed staff, his face shadowed, only a sinister smile visible.
“Daring to act so boldly in my territory—what gall!”
The pink-haired man’s voice boomed like thunder, his silver sword etched with flame sigils glowing in the blaze.
His eyes burned, ready to reduce his foe to ashes.
The cloaked Confessor didn’t falter.
His staff tapped the ground, summoning countless black arrays, oozing decayed, ominous energy.
From the black-purple mist, withered hands clawed out of the earth.
Hundreds of bandaged monsters rose, groaning “urgh-ah,” slowly encircling.
The pink-haired man gripped his sword tighter, resolute.
Crimson flames coiled around the blade, and with a roar, he swung, incinerating swathes of monsters that collapsed, scorched.
The remains, baked by fire, grew even more grotesque.
The accompanying Phoenix knights shuddered.
These weren’t beasts—they were zombies straight out of legend.
If unleashed on a village, panic would break it before the fight began.
Compared to these, the greedy goblins in the forest seemed downright cute.
On the other side, the cloaked Confessor let out a wail-like cackle, shrill and maddening, unsettling the knights.
They charged into the monster horde, shielding the figure wielding the blazing greatsword.
Monsters fell in droves, but the Phoenix side suffered heavily—knights pierced by claws, warriors fighting on with severed arms…
They knew if they fell, the city’s people, their families, would be defenseless.
This wasn’t a war between nations, yet it was worth everything.
If the array’s monsters were unleashed, countless would be displaced.
Even these humble souls roared hoarsely for their future.