“Good, very good.”
Norsen laughed wildly,
as if the upcoming battle was not a matter of life and death, but a rare grand celebration.
Lortissa’s radiance grew ever more dazzling, almost becoming a sun in the valley, illuminating the long-darkened depths of Quiet Sun Valley’s dawn like never before.
The edges of her light carried a scorching heat, searing the damp, cold rock walls and causing steam to rise in clouds.
In the next moment, the young captain of the soldiers moved.
Her golden figure turned into a pure streak of light, with no wasted motion, tearing through the air and leaving a sharp whistle in its wake.
Like a divine punishment descending from the heavens, the golden light instantly struck Norsen’s body, formed of black mist.
There was no sound of flesh tearing, only the hiss of a red-hot branding iron pressed into ice.
Norsen’s chest armor made of “Moon Silver” was punctured like a bubble being popped, a huge hole blasted open in his chest,
light spilling out from behind him, casting his twisted shadow against the distant cliff wall.
The edges of the wound still emitted mist, continuously purified by the light and emitting agonized shrieks.
However, Norsen’s laughter grew louder, filled with sick delight.
The mist body was nearly shattered.
The remaining black mist surged in vain, then gathered again to block the all-pervading light, but to no avail.
Wherever the light touched, the black mist smoked and burned away.
But Norsen’s current body was no longer human flesh and blood.
Having become a Curseform, he now possessed the ability to move freely within the mist, just like the Soul-Eating Sovereign.
With the upgraded enhancement, his movement was no longer slow and diffuse like mist dissipating, but swift and fierce like a knight charging into battle.
A shadow flashed past, and Norsen’s form reassembled perfectly dozens of meters away, narrowly avoiding Lortissa’s second strike.
The golden spear of light grazed his fading afterimage, deeply piercing the rock behind and creating a molten crater.
“Not quite, not quite. The force is unrivaled, but the accuracy leaves much to be desired. Well, after all, no one’s really dodged your fists before. The only one who can dodge this easily is me—that’s the power of a blessing!”
Norsen’s voice carried a mocking tone, drifting unpredictably through the valley.
Lortissa’s face remained expressionless as she pressed the attack without pause.
Every swing left a dazzling arc of light; every thrust became a spear of judgment.
Light relentlessly pursued darkness, turning the valley into a chaotic sandbox of intertwining shadows and brilliance.
Norsen’s figure darted rapidly through the cracks of light and shadow, sometimes thinning into a wisp of smoke, other times condensing into a blurry human shape, always escaping just before the light could touch him.
Thus, time and again, he evaded the young captain’s thunderous assault, reveling in this cat-and-mouse game.
“So not only immune to physical attacks, now you’ve become some kind of ghostly blur?”
Weiss stared fixedly at the battle above, clicking his tongue heavily.
The duel between a lord-level Curseform and the kingdom’s strongest captain of soldiers was nothing short of a clash of gods to ordinary eyes.
Even the residual magical energy scattered around caused the ground beneath to tremble continuously.
But all he could do was watch helplessly, burning with frustration inside.
Unfortunately, his tools were only minor health and mana potions, offering no meaningful aid.
Lortissa’s brilliant light repeatedly burned away the mist surrounding Norsen.
Yet the “Curse Darkness” black mist only ever grew, as if merged with the valley’s shadow, endless and impenetrable.
Her attacks never truly hit Norsen’s core.
After several exchanges, Norsen grew more adept in combat.
He realized this ethereal Curseform body was a masterpiece born for battle.
Simply through the flow of magic, he could sense and capture every movement nearby.
As long as he remained within the “Curse Darkness” black mist, everything was under his control.
Because of this, he knew Lortissa’s every move like the back of his hand, even predicting her attack trajectories in advance.
At the same time, he clearly observed the changes in Lortissa herself.
That blinding light was not a sudden outburst of her own magic.
No—more precisely, she was igniting the surrounding magical energy.
Was it some form of enhanced physical technique? Or a rare bloodline talent? Or perhaps a divine blessing?
This new discovery beyond Lortissa’s astonishing power made Norsen even more intrigued and excited.
The continuous fierce assault failed to achieve the expected results.
Lortissa did not stubbornly repeat ineffective attempts.
Her form flashed as she withdrew to her original position, regrouping.
The light surrounding her retracted slightly, but was still so bright it was impossible to look at directly.
Seeing this, Norsen let out a triumphant chuckle:
“What’s the matter? Getting tired at last? I thought, even the kingdom’s strongest captain wasn’t an endless sun… Now, it’s my turn.”
He suddenly spread his arms wide, and denser black mist surged violently from his body, spreading wildly in all directions.
Lortissa only cast a glance at the surroundings.
Such mist, no matter how much appeared, she could burn away.
Trivial Curse Breath posed no threat to her at all.
Seemingly seeing through the disdain beneath her calm facade, Norsen sneered without hiding his true intent.
“I know, I know. Lady Lortissa’s strength is formidable; even Calamity itself cannot defeat you. It’s like the heavens have granted you a fate to resist all misfortune, truly enviable.”
Suddenly, his tone turned venomous,
“But your luck doesn’t mean others won’t suffer misfortune—”
Before Norsen could finish, Lortissa’s eyes shifted sharply, instantly grasping his meaning.
Indeed, there were others present.
That knight’s name—what was it again?—didn’t concern Lortissa much, or rather, she never took her seriously.
By rights, a knight of that level should have long perished in the initial “Curse Darkness” storm that swept the hillside along with her comrades.
Surviving until now was itself unlikely; dying now was just fate’s decree.
What truly mattered to Lortissa was always only her most important person.
Without hesitation, she turned and dashed toward Weiss.
However, though the mist couldn’t move faster than her, it already blanketed the entire valley and battlefield, so all it needed was to shift—
The surging black mist suddenly dropped like a curtain, instantly blocking her sight.
She had already seen Weiss react immediately, reaching out his hand to her.
But right before her eyes, the mist violently swirled again, forming a fierce wind.
Within the gale were countless shards of “Moon Silver,” scraping like assassin’s teeth, turning the entire storm into a giant meat grinder.
In an instant, Lortissa only saw flying splatters of blood.
It was certainly not her own.
“Moon Silver” was magically generated by secret arts, and could also be burned away by her light.
“Weiss!”
Her anxious shout escaped her lips.
No response.
Even as the black mist that obstructed vision was instantly burned away,
Weiss’s figure had vanished from where he stood.