Crazy, everything has gone mad.
Lita felt as if she had been transported into some low-budget monster movie, becoming one of the pitiful background characters sacrificed at the first awakening of the monster.
She didn’t even try to look at what exactly was emerging from the earth behind her: it was too enormous to take in at a glance; it was too fast for Lita to even spare a second to look.
But even without looking, Lita could already guess what it was.
Earth Splitter.
Master of the Night.
Of course, neither she nor Promi had the chance to say anything.
Blades, spikes—those were how Lita had previously described the legs of the Night Saint Beetles.
But with every move this behemoth made behind her, it was as if a massive stone drill came crashing down from the sky, making Lita truly understand the meaning of “heaven-shattering.”
Those legs, like giant stone drills, still bore the black sheen of the Saint Beetle’s carapace, but were even deeper, more turbid, and the patterns all over them made Lita feel as if they were not naturally formed, but sculpted—like Totem Pillars.
Lita did not want to be crushed to death by a Totem Pillar, nor did she want to be smashed by stones hurled by one.
But all she could do was run for her life, run desperately, run beyond the Master of the Night’s range of attack.
The Master of the Night wasn’t as fast as the Night Commander, but its colossal form more than made up for the lack of speed; each step shrank the distance between it, Lita, and Promi significantly.
But that wasn’t the most deadly part.
The sheer spiritual pressure upon its emergence nearly suffocated Lita, several times more terrifying than the intent assault from the Commander, making her suspect that this was, in itself, a form of attack.
Then came another soundless yet soul-shaking hum, and as the ground upturned and surged like waves with its appearance, countless, slightly smaller Saint Beetles—Lita had lost count of how many they’d slain today—burst out of the earth.
The rustling sounds grew denser and denser; even without looking back, Lita knew exactly what was happening behind her.
“Don’t even think about it! Focus on escaping!” Promi shouted sharply, even she unable to maintain her composure in this situation.
The gray Runes on her sword glowed once more, though their light was far dimmer than when she had slain the Broodmother and the Night Commander during the day.
But still, she swung her sword, unleashing wind pressure and clearing away a swath of the beetle swarm behind them.
In that split-second as Promi turned to slash, her gaze inevitably locked with the massive Master of the Night.
She felt her brain churn, let out a muffled groan, and fought through the explosion of pain in her mind to keep running madly.
“Promi, are you okay?”
“Don’t talk! Don’t look back! Run!” Promi didn’t even realize her own voice was hoarse and shouting.
Prompted by Promi’s yell, Lita noticed her condition, quickly shut her mouth, and kept sprinting desperately.
Slashing, running, dashing—these were all things Lita had already gone through once that day, and absolutely did not want to repeat, yet here it was, playing out again.
Lita felt like an eternity had passed, but in reality, it had been no more than a few dozen seconds.
BZZZZ—
Another soul-shaking hum rang out, and Lita could now almost be sure this was some kind of spiritual attack.
The mental impact, like a tidal wave, swept over the two of them even faster than the insect swarm, slamming into their backs.
Promi stumbled several steps, her body swaying, her grip on her sword almost lost.
In that brief instant, several beetles had already caught up, raising their sharp claws and thrusting them toward Promi.
Lita and Promi were not unscathed, but most of their injuries were minor—bruises from impacts or grazes from beetle claws.
Ordinary beetles would have a hard time injuring them directly; that was the power of their absolute strength.
Which was why Lita couldn’t believe what happened next.
A beetle’s sharp leg, like a spear, stabbed into Promi’s lower back, piercing through her entire body.
And that was even after Promi had twisted her body with all her strength to avoid a vital spot.
Promi grunted, gripping her sword tighter, then suddenly turned and broke off the beetle’s leg still lodged in her body—but she took several more heavy blows herself.
The next wave of spiritual assault crashed into her mind like a sledgehammer, making her reel backward and cough up a mouthful of blood on the spot.
Promi pressed her hand to her sword, the Runes lighting up once more, but before she could swing, an even stronger mental attack made her consciousness seem to shatter instantly, the glowing Runes fading to darkness.
In the darkness encroaching upon her vision, the last thing Promi saw was several giant Saint Beetles lunging straight at her.
This is bad…
But the agony she’d imagined—her body being torn to shreds—never came. Instead, Promi felt herself fall into a warm embrace.
And the wind—no longer tinged with the foul stench of insects, but the refreshingly pure Night Wind.
After that, she knew nothing more.
On the ground, all the beetles came to a halt.
They all stared in unison at the unreachable sky.
And in the sky, they watched the silhouette of a silver-haired girl who, moments before, had rescued Promi with a speed none of them could match, now spreading her wings and flying off into the distance.
The next day, in the military camp.
“Promi came back too? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Upon hearing the news, Cecelia couldn’t help but show her agitation.
“Your Highness! Please forgive me! There was simply too much going on, and I didn’t know where to begin—Lady Maggie’s orders were to deliver these to you first, so I…”
The soldier knelt on one knee and bowed his head. Though he said such words, his demeanor remained neither servile nor arrogant.
“Enough, it’s not your fault. What about Lita? Tell her to come see me as soon as she’s done.”
Cecelia was indeed flustered—so flustered that she hadn’t even thought through the obvious: “If Lita had returned, she’d come see me immediately.”
Or maybe she said this just to comfort herself, to convince herself that Lita was still safe and sound.
To Cecelia, Lita was a special existence—not only could she see the curse marks on her body that no one else could, but she never shied away from her because of the curse, and in the past month, had let her feel a rare sense of relief.
Though she’d only known Lita for a month and her understanding of her was still shallow, Cecelia truly didn’t want anything to happen to her.
“The only ones who returned were Momoka, Albert, and the unconscious Promi they carried back,” the soldier said in a deep voice, as if afraid Cecelia wouldn’t grasp the reality, he added, “Lita… she… didn’t come back.”
Stay calm, stay calm, Cecelia reminded herself.
If luck ran out, perhaps Lita had already met her end in the chaos of that night—that was nothing unusual.
All mortals must die—she understood that principle well enough.
But the inexplicable, relentless pain twisting in her heart made it impossible for Cecelia’s emotions to settle.
“And Promi? Where is she now?” Cecelia rose from her seat, tucking the slip of paper carefully into her chest, her intent perfectly clear.
“She’s… still sleeping.”
“That’s fine, take me to see her.”
The soldier led Cecelia; together, they arrived at the tent housing the wounded.
As they reached the entrance, Cecelia saw a familiar figure.
“Your Highness.”
The red-haired lancer Momoka wasn’t carrying her usual spear today, her heavy dark circles and clearly haggard spirit revealing how much she’d suffered these past days.
Cecelia nodded, but the first thing she asked wasn’t about Lita.
She knew that, however anxious she felt, it would change nothing. That slip of paper, that broken sword… her reason told her Lita’s fate was grim.
“How’s Promi?”
“She’s… not well, but she’s alive,” Momoka shook her head. “Abdominal puncture, fractured ribs, broken arm, two deep thigh lacerations, and countless other wounds. In her condition…”
“In your condition, just being alive is already a miracle.”
Inside a cave, Lita, clad only in a close-fitting vest, was crouched beside Promi, bandaging her bleeding body with pieces of her own clothing. Both of them carried emergency supplies, but in the face of Promi’s severe wounds, it was barely enough.
Promi tried to move, but the intense pain all over her body made her frown deeply. Still, she managed to stifle her groans behind tightly clenched lips.
“Don’t move, or I’m afraid you’ll die,” Lita said, pulling the shredded shirt tightly around Promi’s thigh; in an instant, the white cloth was stained crimson.
Promi’s lips parted, her voice so weak it startled even herself: “Where…”
“I don’t know where this is, just found somewhere far from the insect swarm to rest for a bit—we’ll talk about the rest later,” Lita answered casually, tearing another strip of cloth from her clothes at her feet.
“How long was I out?”
“Not long, maybe an hour? About that.”
“How did we get back?”
“Everyone’s got a trick up their sleeve—I’m no exception,” Lita shrugged.
Promi looked at Lita, whose wounds, visible in her sleeveless vest, were there but not serious—nothing compared to her own state.
“I’m sorry…” Promi tried to turn her head, but her stiff neck wouldn’t cooperate.
“For what?” Lita shot her a look—this was not what she wanted to hear right now; she’d rather Promi rest and regain her strength.
“The Master of the Night… shouldn’t have appeared here… acting rashly… almost got you killed with me,” Promi’s voice was broken and weak.
Lita thought back to that Nightmare Lord Valfis who appeared in Solus City, and suddenly felt that seeing the Master of the Night here was no big deal. She didn’t know what role the Nightmare Lord played in the game, but it probably warranted a whole chapter; the Master of the Night, perhaps not so much.
“You already said it shouldn’t have shown up—sometimes a boss popping out in the newbie area happens, but who would expect it?”
“Yeah…”
“No more buts, the fact that we’re both alive is enough,” Lita said, pulling out a bottle bubbling with pink foam from her bag. “If you have time to talk about that, better drink this first.”