Kill you?
How is that possible!
Philippe mustered all his strength, trying to step forward through the thick aura emanating from Madeleine. However, each step felt like pushing against an invisible wall.
The air around him became heavy and sharp, like inhaling shards of glass. The pressure grew stronger. At that moment, Philippe's body was hurled backward, crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud.
A tremendous force struck him!
The metallic taste of blood immediately filled his mouth as he coughed and slumped to the floor. With one eye still able to open, he looked up, staring at Madeleine's horrifying figure.
It was clearly difficult to resolve this issue in a normal way!
Facing her directly was obviously not an option.
At that moment, the shadow of the Covenant Shard flashed in his mind. However, he quickly dismissed it.
He was afraid the price to pay would be too great.
What if it affected the world and caused it to collapse?
That item would remain the last resort!
On the throne, Madeleine's body, which had been rejuvenated, now began to decay right before his eyes.
Her taut skin peeled like old parchment, her muscles shrank, revealing the bones beneath.
Was that the side effect of the skill?
But this was utterly terrifying!
Besides its side effects, the power of this skill was clearly incredibly strong... was this Mythic rarity, like my Eclipse Soul?
Suddenly, a sound began to echo throughout the room.
THUMP-THUMP... THUMP-THUMP...
A heavy and irregular heartbeat, so powerful that Philippe could feel it vibrating in his own chest.
For a full minute, that terrifying rhythm dominated everything, then slowly faded and vanished.
When the pulsing stopped, the aura around Madeleine disappeared. Her decaying figure stared straight at Philippe and smiled.
Philippe rose with difficulty, every movement accompanied by pain. He approached step by step, his eyes never leaving that haunting, terrifying smile.
What had just happened?!
He didn't know either!!!
At that moment, Madeleine's damaged body began to float slowly from the throne. She spread her arms, tilting her head back toward the high ceiling, and closed her eyes, like a pale moon emanating the light of death.
When she opened her eyes again, Philippe felt a foreboding so thick it made him nauseous.
A strong gust of wind suddenly sucked the air in the room, centered on Madeleine. Then, a wave of reddish-black aura exploded from her body, spreading in all directions at the speed of sound, penetrating the palace walls, sweeping across the land and sky.
Its effect had been unleashed upon the entire world!
That's what he felt.
Pure fear and horror gripped Philippe.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a strange sensation throughout his body. The skin on his arm felt itchy and tight.
He looked down only to see in horror that his skin was starting to crack and peel like a snake shedding its skin.
He sensed that this was Madeleine's ability.
And now it was directly affecting him!
Clearly, this was a dire situation if not resolved.
The problem would worsen in the long term!
Seeing how the effect reached the entire world... that meant....
***
In the blood-smeared corridor, Armand and Emilie were still fighting. Or more accurately, Armand was surviving.
He panted, leaning on his sword to support his wounded body. Every breath felt like fire in his lungs.
The walls, floor, even the moonlight filtering through the window were now stained with splatters of his blood. Emilie, on the other hand, stood without a single scratch.
If this fight went on any longer, Armand knew he would die!
The only thing keeping him standing was the Featherlight Band encircling his arm!
Emilie lunged again.
Armand let out an annoyed grunt, preparing to block another attack that might break his bones. However, midway through her motion, Emilie suddenly stopped.
She stood rigid, then slowly turned, staring toward the darkness at the end of the corridor—toward the throne room.
Armand turned as well, on guard.
At that moment, a fierce wind suddenly roared from that darkness, carrying a stench so thick it churned his stomach.
What is this smell! He reflexively covered his nose, his eyes watering from the unbearable aroma of death.
After a few moments, the wind stopped. Armand felt a strange itching sensation. He checked his hand and saw his skin starting to crack and peel.
Decay!
He looked at Emilie, who was also examining her own arm with a blank expression.
The girl then turned to him, the moonlight filtering through the blood-stained window illuminating part of her face.
Her cold gaze fixed on Armand for a moment, before she finally turned away and stepped forward calmly, entering the darkness of the corridor.
The sound of her footsteps echoed, gradually fading.
Armand let out a long sigh, a trembling breath of relief. His tense muscles finally relaxed.
He collapsed, leaning against the cold wall, his sword lying beside him.
He had survived....
He had managed to survive because Emilie chose to leave.
His gaze was straight ahead, toward the darkness where Emilie and Philippe were.
The situation there must be far more dire.
He wanted to follow immediately, but his body screamed in protest.
Forcing himself now would be foolish!
He had to rest, recover his strength, and prepare for the worst-case scenario. He had to be able to save himself and get his friends out.
As long as they were still alive, they still had hope!
***
In the throne room vibrating with supernatural power, Philippe stared at Madeleine's floating, decaying figure for a few moments before finally shifting his gaze forward.
There, on the magnificent throne, an old man slumped weakly, his skin as pale as paper and his breathing shallow.
His wrinkled mouth opened soundlessly, and his dim, vacant gaze was directed at Philippe, who knows what his blurry eyes saw. However, upon seeing that helpless figure, a horrifying and desperate plan finally formed in Philippe's mind.
He then stepped forward, advancing against the thick black aura and the invisible wind roaring in his ears, each step feeling like pushing against a solid wall.
However, slowly, he managed to move closer, perhaps because Madeleine's power was now focused in the air.
The longer he walked, the closer he got to his goal, until finally he stood right in front of the throne.
The king's figure looked so pitiful, his jewel-encrusted crown tilted and nearly falling from his bald head.
With a movement that strangely felt calm amid this supernatural storm, Philippe reached out toward the crown, feeling its cold and heavy metal before the object vanished into his inventory.
He looked back at the king, then hesitantly placed his palm on the cold and damp head.
Closing his eyes, his lips moved to whisper two words laden with regret, "Forgive me."
The king's dim eyes widened in horror, his frail body trying to move to escape, but he had no strength left and slumped back in resignation.
A thin, brittle sobbing sound began to echo, resounding pitifully amid the howling wind.
Right at that moment, from the point of contact with Philippe's palm, a clump of thick black smoke began to seep out from the king's head, writhing like liquid ink in water before being forcibly drawn in, entering through his palm.
As the ice-cold essence touched his skin, Philippe's eyes glowed with a terrifying black light, the veins in his arm turning black like a spider's web.
His body tensed as if it would snap, his teeth grinding to endure the indescribable pain from the immense mental pressure.
The king's entire life—every emotion, every memory, every skill—flooded his mind in one brutal second: the arrogance of victory on horseback, forbidden passions in gold-gilded chambers, the bitterness of betrayal from those closest.
He delved into it as if he himself had experienced it all!
Meanwhile, amid the chaos, a chorus of screams from other souls he had absorbed roared in his head—the howls of wolves, the terrified shouts of the coachman, and the soundless whimpers of the king.
As quickly as it began, the process ended; the light in Philippe's eyes faded, and the black smoke was fully absorbed. He immediately staggered back, coughing and gasping as if just pulled from the depths of the sea, his body limp and soaked in cold sweat.
The ensuing silence was deafening, his head throbbing with a torturous migraine, and the world around him felt alien.
In his mind, he was no longer alone; a cold and silent foreign consciousness now resided in the corner of his awareness, and he could feel 'something' smiling.
New knowledge that wasn't his suddenly flowed into his mind, his hands reflexively forming a fencing stance he had never learned.
Finished with the process, he looked up at Madeleine still floating, completely indifferent to what he had just done.
At that moment, the sound of calm and deliberate footsteps echoed from the entrance. Emilie's figure appeared, walking casually, her face expressionless.
She stared at Philippe coldly, her sword held at her side reflecting the pale moonlight, clean without a stain.
***
A/N: If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
Replace "â" with "a" and search for it in your browser.
By the way, don't forget to throw a power stone and leave a review to motivate me :)