Chapter 952: Sheffield's Defeat
After having her antennae removed, Bagest underwent "atavism," her body rapidly expanding to a size that dwarfed Bogart.
Having almost completely lost her rationality, she roared and swung her pitch-black flaming greatsword.
The black flames rising from the ground surged horizontally like the serrated teeth of a beast!
A strike so powerful it seemed capable of splitting mountains and boiling seas struck the helpless Bogart head-on, engulfing him entirely and turning the land within hundreds of meters into a sea of flames!
The residual flames, like frenzied beasts, violently tore through the city gates in an instant with a thunderous roar!
The black flames, unstoppable as an avalanche, surged into the city, instantly incinerating the gate guards to ashes!
The moment she swung her black sword, her mind seemed to burn away under the intense heat, but Bagest, with her tenacious will, managed to regain her rationality and barely reined in the black flames' momentum.
"Hah...!"
Bagest gasped for breath, her blood-stained armor shattered and broken.
Her body gradually returned to its original size, her injuries vanishing without a trace. From the gaps in her armor, only newly formed, fair skin emerged, and even the bloody hole over her heart had disappeared.
The surroundings were scorched black, the ground burnt a foot deep as if by magic. In the distance, the city walls made from the World Tree were mostly charred through, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of burning.
With just one strike, Sheffield was shattered!
"Bogart..."
She turned to look not far away.
The snow-white fur had vanished entirely. A charred figure trembled as it tried to stand but collapsed to the ground with a thud. No matter how hard he gritted his teeth, all his strength seemed to have been burned away, leaving nothing to draw upon.
"You actually devoured my magical energy... What kind of monster are you?"
Bogart let out a bitter laugh, his remaining eye twitching violently.
He, who had never feared competing with Woodwose for the clan leadership or vying with Spriggan for the position of lord, now involuntarily revealed a trace of terror!
Perhaps even he himself hadn't realized it, but deep down, he feared the monster before him.
"Monster..."
Bagest's figure stiffened slightly, and she let out a self-mocking, bitter smile.
"That might indeed be the most accurate term."
She picked up the silver greatsword she had discarded earlier and stepped slowly toward Bogart.
The tip of the sword pressed against Bogart's heart.
"It's over, Bogart. I will remember your name forever."
Bogart's eyes widened.
Rage, hatred, fear... countless emotions flooded his heart.
His ideals of saving Norwich, his desire for revenge against Spriggan and Woodwose, his ambition to overthrow the Queen... in this moment, they all turned into fleeting smoke. An overwhelming sense of despair filled him, and he slowly closed his eyes.
Bagest thrust her sword forward.
"Clang!"
But the sound that followed was not of a pierced heart but the metallic clang of steel striking steel.
"What?"
Bagest's gaze sharpened, staring in shock at Bogart's chest.
There, she saw a golden sword radiating dazzling light—appearing out of nowhere, slanting across Borg's chest, blocking her descending strike.
"Hum—!"
The golden sword vibrated slightly, then swiftly shifted its angle, its tip pointing directly at her!
Bagster's expression changed instantly. She immediately retracted her sword to parry, but the light sword moved with such sharp speed and slippery agility that it was impossible to grasp. In an instant, it had entangled Bagster completely.
Meanwhile, another golden light sword appeared before Borg, piercing beneath him and lifting him like a pole carrying water, shooting straight toward the distant horizon.
"Who's there! Do you lack the courage to face me head-on?!"
Bagster glared furiously, scanning her surroundings.
But nowhere could she find the figure controlling these light swords.
After Borg vanished from her sight, the light sword showed no intention of continuing the fight. In the blink of an eye, it shattered into countless points of light, dissipating before her eyes.
"Tch!"
Bagster's face twisted into an ugly scowl.
To think she had been so close to success, only to fail at the last moment! Even more unexpected was that there existed such a formidable opponent within Sheffield!
"Messenger, issue the order! Suppress Sheffield with full force! We must find the Child of Prophecy!"
"Yes!"
...
Sheffield was soon engulfed in raging warfare.
Buildings and shops were set ablaze by the fairy soldiers who had stormed the city. Residents, weeping and kneeling to beg for mercy to save their livelihoods and lives, were mercilessly slaughtered by the soldiers.
No one was spared—neither fairy nor human—as battle cries shook the heavens.
"Why won't you even spare those who have given up resistance?!"
Mash glared at the rampaging fairy soldiers and without hesitation charged forward, shoving them aside to rescue an ordinary fairy on the verge of being killed.
"Fairies will quickly give birth to the next generation even if they die, and humans are even less of a concern—we can replenish their numbers by increasing production. Compared to that, it's far more important to eliminate the seeds of rebellion!"
Habetrot followed closely behind Mash, wielding her loom in a fighting style identical to Mash's.
That thing, whatever it was made of, proved surprisingly sturdy—it sent several fairies flying without a scratch.
"Mash, don't get bogged down in battle! The priority now is to open the rear gate and help everyone escape!"
"Understood! Everyone, please gather around me! I'll lead you to safety!"
"Child of Prophecy!"
"Child of Prophecy, save us!"
Hearing her desperate cries, the pursued residents, as if seeing a glimmer of hope, wept with joy and swarmed toward her.
"This way!"
Habetrot shouted, guiding the crowd toward the only escape route.
"These Queen's soldiers are such a nuisance!"
Unsurprisingly, the rear gate was heavily guarded by a large contingent of the Queen's army. Left with no choice, the two joined forces, ready to break through the encirclement with all their might.
"Huh? So this is the Child of Prophecy?"
But just then, a mocking voice rang out from the city wall above the rear gate.
"What's this? She doesn't look like she has extra arms or legs. Though her skin is enviably flawless—how about we use my threads to scrape all that proud skin of hers into a bloody mess? What do you think, Mr. Red Beryl?"
"What a splendid idea, Miss Spinel! But, well, such amusing activities can be done anytime. Besides, making her completely twisted and despairing—that kind of pleasure would be doubled, wouldn't it?"
"Really?!"
"Of course it's true. I've never lied to you, have I? So, leave it to me for now. I'll make sure she falls into utter despair. Meanwhile, Miss Spinel, why not have some fun with those foolish human-shaped toys?"
"This voice...?"
A thick, pungent smell of blood assaulted her senses, and Mash's face involuntarily twisted into a grim expression.
Lifting her head, she caught sight of two unfamiliar figures.