Chapter 167: The Final Judgement 2
Soren, a towering warrior clad in battered armor, his sword resting heavily at his side, was the first to react. His jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ground together. His eyes widened in recognition, but not with the warmth of camaraderie. No. He could see it now—the abyssal aura surrounding her, the rage and darkness in her every movement. His breath caught in his throat, a mix of dread and sorrow filling him. "Nyx..." His voice cracked, barely above a whisper, as if the name itself had become a curse.
Beside him, Kaela, a mage who had once studied alongside Nyx, staggered back, her hands shaking as she reached for her staff. The usually composed woman now appeared utterly rattled, her face pale, her lips trembling. She had seen Nyx\'s power before, but this… this was different. The light in Nyx\'s eyes, once kind and warm, was now a furious fire that seemed to burn through everything in its path. "No... this isn\'t who she was," Kaela murmured, almost as though she was trying to convince herself. But the cold reality of the abyssal figure now descending was too much. She trembled, eyes filling with tears, though none of the others dared to cry.
In the distance, a young hero named Thorne, who had once trained under Nyx\'s guidance, gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white. His chest tightened with the weight of what he was seeing. "How could this happen?" he breathed, almost in a state of disbelief, his voice cracking under the pressure. His legs wavered, his body unwilling to move, as if his mind couldn\'t catch up with the horror unfolding before him. The figure of Nyx had once been a mentor, a symbol of hope. Now, she was the harbinger of doom.
Mira, a rogue with quicksilver reflexes and sharp instincts, clenched her teeth in frustration. She had always prided herself on being able to read a person, but Nyx was an enigma—her actions, her choices now, were beyond understanding. "This can\'t be real," she muttered to herself, her hand instinctively reaching for the daggers hidden at her belt, though she knew, deep down, it was futile. There was nothing that could stop what was happening. Her eyes darted toward the others, searching for some semblance of a plan, but they were all frozen, unable to move.
Even in the farthest corners of the world, where the last remnants of life clung to existence, people stood rooted to the spot. From the remnants of destroyed cities to the desolate wilderness, every eye lifted to the heavens, and every heart skipped a beat. The very ground seemed to tremble as Nyx\'s presence filled the air.
In one of the crumbling settlements, a group of children huddled together, eyes wide with terror as they stared up at the darkened sky. One of them, barely old enough to understand, pointed a trembling finger toward the descending figure. "Is that... her?" they whispered, their voice filled with a quiet horror that only children could express in such raw innocence. The adults, who had tried to shield them from the nightmares of the apocalypse, now found themselves powerless in the face of this new, unimaginable terror.
And then, there was a strange shift—subtle but undeniable. From the edge of a crumbling cliffside, an elderly woman watched the scene unfold with a quiet sense of knowing, her face etched with lines that told the stories of lifetimes lived in sorrow and loss. Her old hands trembled as she muttered a prayer, her voice raspy but strong. "May the world find peace before it is lost forever." There was no fear in her eyes, just a quiet resignation, as if she understood something that the others did not—something that could never be explained with words. A legacy of hope, however faint, flickered in her heart.
In the midst of all this, a lone figure stood apart from the crowd—a silent observer cloaked in shadows. They didn\'t seem afraid, nor did they seem concerned. Their expression was unreadable, their posture relaxed, though the tension around them was palpable. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played at the corner of their lips. This wasn\'t the first time they had seen someone fall so far. They had watched heroes become villains before. And Nyx, it seemed, was no different.
But it wasn\'t just the people who were watching. The world itself, in its dying state, was holding its breath. Read exclusive content at m_v-l\'-NovelBin.net
Above the horizon, Nyx\'s shadow stretched long, her crimson eyes glowing with the promise of destruction. The swirling abyss around her deepened, devouring the light that had once symbolized her. Every movement she made, every flicker of her aura, felt like a death sentence to those below. And yet, as she descended, the realization spread like wildfire—this was the woman who had once fought for them. Who had once stood against the encroaching darkness. Now, she was the very darkness they feared.
The heroes, the survivors, all faced the same truth, whether they dared to acknowledge it or not. Nyx was no longer one of them. She was a force of nature—unpredictable, unstoppable—and the world would bend beneath her wrath. The once-bright future they had fought so hard for had crumbled. And now, Nyx was the final nail in the coffin.
Aveline\'s words echoed through the hearts of a few.
"Vengeance may soothe you for a time… but it is not the same as peace."
Those words hung heavy in the air, but they were drowned by the sound of Nyx\'s descent—her final act of defiance against a world that had forsaken her. The final reckoning had begun.