Chapter 364: The Assassin and the Dragon

Snow fell thicker by the minute, blanketing everything in a white shroud that blurred the edges of the forest. The trees bent beneath the weight of ice, creaking softly as if whispering to one another. From far away came the muffled echoes of battle, distant explosions, screams, the clash of steel, a cruel reminder that time was running out.

The group gathered near half-buried ruins, the cold biting through armor and flesh alike, fatigue heavy in every stare. They all knew what waited for them. The Midnight Lord was still out there, and if they didn’t face him now, there wouldn’t be another chance.

Luke drew in a sharp breath, the icy air burning his lungs. Somewhere in the forest, the Warden Generals thundered after the retreating maids, their roars cutting through the wind. Chaos ruled the battlefield, the kind that devoured reason and mercy alike. One mistake, one death, and the plan would fall apart. These were the strongest survivors of the tutorial; if one went down, the rest would follow.

“This is your plan?” Erza asked, her voice steady but edged with disbelief.

“Yes.” Luke didn’t hesitate. “And before you say it, I know. There’s no honor in it. It’s cheating.”

“It’s downright dirty,” she replied, lifting her gaze to meet his. “But better dirty than dead.”

Her hand brushed the bracelet on her wrist. A metallic click echoed as it activated, and a black scythe materialized from thin air. Its handle was carved from the darkwood of the capital’s forests, and the blade, an opaque, cold alloy, caught the faint reflection of the snow.

“Looks like I’ll have to give everything I’ve got just to try killing that bastard,” she muttered, testing the weapon’s balance.

The wind swept through the ruins, carrying the smell of smoke and fresh blood. None of them spoke. They all understood what that silence meant: it was time.

Anne adjusted her grip on her weapon—a massive blade shaped like half of a giant pair of shears, its blue sheen glinting against the snowlight. In her other hand, she held a slender wand, its tip pulsing faintly with magic. Without a word, she broke into a sprint toward the distant roar. Charlie followed close behind, her tattered cloak snapping in the wind like a torn banner.

Across the clearing, Evangeline, Mason, and Jack caught the tail end of the exchange. A single look was enough to tell them everything.

“You stay on support,” Mason told Luke, not waiting for agreement.

The group scattered through the forest. Shadows twisted between the trees, and the snow crunched under their boots. The air was so cold it felt like every breath might splinter.

Allison led the charge along the main trail. Undead burst from the frozen ground, only to be cut down by her precise strikes. Each fallen corpse rose again, not as an enemy, but as a monument. Her Ice Sculptor skill turned the dead into grotesque statues, frozen towers humming with blue energy. Near them, her power grew stronger, a domain born from carnage.

Luke sprinted beside her, pulling arrows from his quiver and loosing them in rhythmic precision. The sharp thuds of impact echoed against the giant form emerging from the mist, the Wyvern, the Midnight Lord, its eyes burning like coals. Charlie and Mason flanked from opposite sides.

The dragon roared, thrashing wildly, its fire breath veering off course and setting the forest ablaze. Luke seized the opening and unleashed a rapid volley of arrows. His mana plummeted fast.

[Mana Points (MP): 4639/5100]

On the far side, Evangeline emerged from the smoke, shadows coiling around her as she sent a wave of black mist toward the creature’s face.

[Predator’s Mark activated]

Luke raised his hand, the air rippling around him. Blood seeped from his pores, mingling with mana until it coalesced into a pulsing arrow.

[Mana Points (MP): 3639/5100]

The Acid Blood Arrow shrieked through the air and struck the wyvern square in the face. A burst of viridian light followed, spreading a corrosive mist that began eating through its scales. The creature’s next roar split the air like thunder.

“What the hell are you doing, human? You’ll burn through all your mana!” hissed Franky, the small serpent coiled beneath his cloak.

Luke sprinted between the trees, pulling vials from the necklace at his chest. “That’s what potions are for.”

He downed seven in quick succession, the bitter taste burning his throat. Each one restored 150 MP, but his body could only absorb up to 1,000 before reaching its limit. After that, no potions of mana, health, or any kind would take effect until the cooldown of twenty to thirty minutes passed. Drinking them now was pure strategy.

[Mana Points (MP): 4639/5100]

Only six left.

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The Midnight Lord staggered within the green haze, its scales melting away. Erza leapt again, body fluid as water—some skill clearly triggered. Anne darted along the beast’s flank, landing sharp, precise strikes.

Allison spun her katana, summoning icicles that rained down one after another, shattering across the wyvern’s hide.

Luke checked his mana bar, mind already crunching numbers.

I need at least four thousand to kill the Midnight King… and five hundred more for the Demon Predator’s Hands. Six potions left. That means I can only burn about nine hundred mana here, no more. Enough to handle the Midnight Lord and still have something left for the Witch.

He clicked his tongue. “Having low mana sucks.”

‘If you hadn’t dumped everything into vitality, you wouldn’t be whining now.’ Artemis replied dryly in his head.

Oh, now you’re judging me?

‘Of course. If you die, who else am I supposed to judge?’

Luke snorted, lining up his aim again. Another series of arrows flew, their impacts blending into the wyvern’s screams, the explosions of magic, and the endless whisper of falling snow. The ground shook under the monster’s weight. Each beat of its wings sent a blast of snow and ash into the air. Its roar made the entire forest vibrate.