The warehouse was deathly silent, until the sound of the iron door shattering tore it open with brutal force.
At the dark entrance, a figure slowly emerged.
A heavy cloak wrapped her tightly, impenetrable to even the faintest breeze. Her hood hung low, and a cold, rigid metal mask covered her entire face, catching the firelight in a glint of icy arc.
At her waist hung a pouch, neither too large nor too small, swaying gently with each step she took. From inside, a clear, crisp clinking could be heard.
Helos?!
All three recognized her at almost the same moment.
Julius’s breath caught, his pupils shrinking.
How did she secretly follow us here?!
Kyle’s lips were bloodied. Seeing that familiar, petite figure, he couldn’t help but let out a helpless smile:
“As expected, fearless as always. She actually came.”
Selina’s expression didn’t change much, but a flash of worry in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.
In stark contrast to their reactions, the black-robed man froze instantly.
He had been grinning wickedly, claws raised, murderous intent thick in the air, but the moment that small figure appeared, his movements abruptly stalled.
His gaze was fixed on the stranger beneath the cloak. His brows knitted suddenly, and he spoke in a low, heavy voice:
“You… who are you?”
His voice was hoarse, thick with gravity and doubt he’d never shown before.
He had always been confident in the barrier he laid.
Even if Eisend came in person, even if he couldn’t hold him off, it would at least buy him enough time to react.
Yet in reality, he didn’t notice anyone approaching until the barrier utterly collapsed.
And then, what happened next chilled him to the bone.
The petite figure had just stepped through the warehouse doors, and the black mist—once surging like a tide and driving the three to the brink—suddenly scattered as if startled!
The all-pervading black vapor stopped three steps away from her, as though hitting an invisible wall, then quickly dissolved into nothingness.
“Wh-what?!”
The black-robed man’s pupils contracted sharply.
He hadn’t even seen her do anything!
She merely stood there, and his black mist just vanished without reason?!
Julius and Kyle exchanged glances, both eyes filled with shock.
They certainly knew what had happened, but what they hadn’t expected was that the power of that curse would be this strong?
Helos’s steps were almost soundless, her cloak gently swaying in the air.
Behind her mask, cold eyes locked onto the crazed monster in the center of the warehouse.
She did nothing—not even reaching for a potion—yet the black mist simply could not cross her path.
The black-robed man’s smile stiffened.
He licked his lips, tentatively swinging his claws, commanding the tentacle-like black mist to lunge at Helos.
Yet, as the black vapors neared her, they froze midair, unable to move even half a step closer, as though an invisible wall blocked them completely.
A chilling “zzz-zzz” sound filled the air, as if the power of the abyss was being crushed by some unseen force.
“No… Impossible!”
The black-robed man growled, for the first time a note of panic in his voice.
Within the warehouse, the only clear sound was the crisp clink of potion bottles in the girl’s pouch.
That noise, in the midst of such stillness, seemed almost violently jarring, striking at the enemy’s nerves with every note.
Helos did not speak.
She simply stood there, the firelight reflected off her mask like a cold blade.
The girl lifted one hand, making a small gesture for Julius and the other two to hold their ground.
The black-robed man’s breath quickened sharply.
All the black mist around him surged, centipede-like scars on his arms writhing madly, his claws suddenly swelling as he roared:
“Break, damn you—!”
Countless tendrils of black mist burst forth at once, filling the air and surging toward Helos.
“Boom—!”
The impact roared, torches in the warehouse flickering violently, barrels overturned, and splinters flying everywhere.
Yet when the smoke cleared, Helos was still quietly standing where she had been, her cloak fluttering lightly in the aftershock.
All the black mist—including the tentacles—still could not cross the three-step boundary around her.
The black-robed man’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse and frantic:
“This can’t be… Why? Why is my power useless before you?!”
Still, Helos said nothing.
Her silence, in itself, was the sharpest reply.
The black-robed man’s madness was forcibly suppressed by her presence.
A ruthless glint flashed through the eyes of the Abyss Cultist.
He stepped forward suddenly, claws slicing through the air as he lunged straight at Helos.
Yet Helos moved even faster.
With perfect composure, she drew a few purple-glowing potions from her pouch, flicked her wrist, and sent the glass bottles arcing through the air directly toward the oncoming black-robed man.
“Bang! Bang! Bang—!”
The black-robed man roared, his claws sweeping to shatter all the potions.
Glass and potion splattered everywhere, splashing onto his body.
“Zzzz—!”
A pungent corrosive stench instantly filled the air.
The moment the purple liquid touched his skin, it bit and tore at his flesh like a viper.
“Aaaargh—!”
The black-robed man let out a shrill scream. His arms were instantly corroded, flesh and blood peeling back, even his robe burnt through.
Some of the potion splashed onto his face, and his eyes were scorched black in an instant, the smell of burning flesh thick in the air.
This was the potion Helos had never used in actual combat before—Kiss of Thorns.
Even the favored of the abyss could not ignore such lethal corrosion.
The black-robed man staggered, wailing as his body trembled violently, but his momentum did not cease.
Amid his howls, covered in wounds, he was forced to his knees before Helos.
Helos’s “Silent Oath” enveloped him instantly.
Those twisted, ruined claws—within a few ragged breaths—were forced by an invisible pressure to recover to their original state, flesh and muscle knitting back together.
A wave of vertigo smashed into the black-robed man’s mind like a sledgehammer, scattering his thoughts and muddling the sounds around him.
His limbs lost strength, as if bound tight by invisible chains; every movement became clumsy and sluggish.
His eyes, blurred and ruined by the potion, could only register confusion and shifting light.
Driven by desperation, he instinctively flailed his arms, grasping wildly at the air, trying to reach his enemy.
But in the next instant, his heart seized.
Why… why can’t I feel my own magic?!
With terror, he realized the abyssal power surging in his body had been utterly sealed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t summon even a wisp of black mist.
It was as if someone had forcibly severed his connection to the abyss.
“Wh-what is… happening…?!”
His hoarse voice trembled with disbelief and fear, his whole body shaking.
That sense of powerlessness and emptiness was even more unbearable than the pain of being corroded.
Helos simply drew a deep breath, pulled out several more Kiss of Thorns potions, and smashed them down hard onto his body.
“Argh—!!!”
I guess this kill will fulfill the requirement of the hook.