A Gorgeous White - Chapter 385: || || Ah, My Golden Savior

“You look afraid….”

Alha’s voice is thick with delight. His eyes looked as if they could strip away the intrepidity from the youth’s dauntless silver eyes. But it was true. Moulin could not deny the fear sinking inside him. A foreboding feeling crawled up his spine, making him falter and hesitate. The potent scent of evil wafting from that large looming pitch-black hand threatened every bit of his being like being forced to intake a whole bottle of deadly poison. Moulin’s heart pounded within his chest. He paled as Alha continued to suck away his vitality and slowly introduced him to a different kind of torment.

“The pain will be quick…” Alha spoke as though in comfort. His dark fingertips ominously hovered over Moulin’s quivering eyes, casting shadows on those trembling silver pupils.

‘No…’ Fists clenched.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind flared past them, hauling the ambiance of frightful golden essence. Both flinched.

In the next instance, a dark blur sped through the area, appearing a step beside the unsuspecting dark-skinned demon. Golden eyes flashed, laced with poison. A powerful hand crushed Alha’s wrist. The loud crunch was hair-rising. Alarmed, Alha had yet to react when a bone-breaking strike blasted him far across the room.

BOOM!

A flash of light cut through the gnawing limbs restricting Moulin. Eyes wide and confused, Moulin’s knees weakened, and a powerful arm stopped him from falling.

“Moulin.”

Moulin snapped out from his trance and lifted his head to meet Hadrian’s deep assessing gaze. The Lord’s eyes are like dark whirlpools of gold holding Moulin captive. Moulin’s fingers unconsciously tightened around Hadrian’s arm.

“Can you stand?” Hadrian lowered his gaze, glancing at the grotesque bruises and wounds on his lover’s fair skin. Dark fury boiled behind his eyes.

Moulin swallowed and nodded. His joints creaked as he steeled his legs, but he didn’t move an inch away from Hadrian’s arms. After a long dreadful experience, Moulin’s heart finally breathed in solace.

However, the brief silence shattered once more. In the distance, Alha has risen to his feet. Blood-red eyes glowed petrifyingly behind the dissipating cloud of dust.

Moulin’s heart thudded. Hadrian straightened and placed a hand on the Moulin’s back.

“Take the oracle away from here.”

Moulin furrowed his brows with uncertainty. Before he could speak, Hadrian placed something hard and round in his hand. The rough surface of the object grazed his palm. Moulin looked at it and stiffened. The last soul fragment…

When Moulin lifted his gaze, Hadrian was already staring at him with solemn eyes.

“The entrance is cleared.”

Moulin gave him a silent stare before a sigh finally escaped his lips. Worry crossed his heart. He nodded and flashed a warning gaze.

“Don’t destroy the place.”

“…”

Before Hadrian could speak, Moulin turned his heels and ran towards Na’El’s location, oblivious to the frozen mist his steps left. The High Lord stared at Moulin’s departing figure for a few seconds before dragging his gaze away. A deathly silence filled his surroundings before the sound of scraping metal noised.

The black malignant blade is drawn from its sheath and flashes a murderous gleam. Sparks erupted with lethal energy. A storm of rage comes…

Crossing the cracked earth, Alha weighed his saber within his palm. Gone is the delight in his expression. “I remember you… the ‘beloved.’ Even after death… you returned to each other.”

“…”

Every step vibrates with mad fury like a violent earthquake ravaging the land. The dark lord watches with a gaze that kills through flesh and soul. Vengeance, ugly and insane, coursed through his blood. He desired to cut up every damnable demon that had caused Moulin’s demise.

For a moment, Alha pauses. Something about those eyes reminded him of a long-forgotten ancient beast and its breath of gold.

Whoosh!

Hadrian vanished and abruptly appeared before Alha’s presence. The dark blade came down in the middle of his eyes. Swiftly, Alha raises his forearm to protect his horn.

Slash!

Blood spurted, blinding Alha’s vision. The black fluid sprayed into the air, and then a powerful blow struck his stomach sending him flying and rolling towards a wall, crashing with a bang. Hadrian lowered his sword, exhaling briefly before beginning another the onslaught of torture.

Meanwhile, Moulin hurriedly helped Na’El towards the gates. They opened instantly, allowing the two figures to escape. Before the entrance closed, Moulin caught the chaos behind him. Pillars of smoke arose, and it was difficult to distinguish what was happening inside.

Moulin reluctantly turned his gaze away. Hadrian will be alright… He was never an easy opponent.

Moulin braced himself, keeping his guards up when he stepped out of the entrance. However, relief came pouring inside him when he noticed malibreed corpses littering the floor. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it was better to be surrounded by dead malibreeds than live ones during this situation.

“Snow! Kier!” Moulin called as he steadied his hold on Na’El.

The moment their names were called, the two beasts roaming the area from afar paused and hastily rushed towards Moulin’s direction. Patches on Snow’s snow-white fur were damp, stained by dark fluids. And the wolf unhurriedly moving behind him wasn’t the less clean. Snow nosed Moulin’s head, whimpering as he took in his master’s injuries.

Moulin sighed in relief, patting the Opallian beast’s snout gently. “I’m alright. Just a little tired. That’s all.”

“Cough! Cough!”

Moulin stopped as Na’El regained consciousness. He hurriedly lowered the elf to the ground. The soft thud of Moulin’s knees entered Na’El’s ears. The Oracle sluggishly opens his eyes and finds Moulin’s warm, serious gaze. Welcomed by the aphrodite’s wounds and bruises, a wave of concern washed over him, and before he knew it, he raised his hands and lets the glow of his mana wash away the blood-dried cuts on Moulin’s face.

Moulin’s eyes became hooded. The surprise he felt vanished entirely, replaced by warmth.

“Your flawless face is riddled with wounds. It is strange to look at.” Na’El chuckled, appearing to look unbothered by their current circumstance.

His kingdom is on the brink of ruin. Their Island Tree’s core has been breached. His people are mauled and torn apart. It was, indeed, not a time to jest.

“It seems that you’ve still got some energy left in you for you to start laughing.” Moulin shook his head. “I’ll have Kier and Snow bring you back to the vault. I would treat your injuries if my mana weren’t depleted.”

“You’ve fought… hard.”

“…”

But not hard enough, Moulin admitted. That demon trounced him…

His emotions overcame him, driving him to anger. Perhaps, it wasn’t uncommon to be influenced by emotions. But for him, amid battle where everything would either plunge them to misery or raise them to victory and hope, it was… distasteful, instantly leading to failure. Moulin secretly clenched his fists.

Without a moment to wallow in his thoughts, Moulin raised his head and spoke, “I must return. Gala’En must be saved….”

Na’El reached out and tightly held his arm. His eyes became severe and dreadful. “That demon… possesses devilish mana even I could not recognize. He’ll drill into your mind with his words, and his mana will devour your flesh. If even a fingertip touches the spirit entrance… we will fall.”

Silver eyes became severe. Moulin promised, “He will not have his way.”

Na’El’s grip on his arm turned painfully tight. His eyes are persistent, “M-Moulin, I entered his mind. Visions. I saw- Cough! Cough! Ack!”

Crimson leaked out from the corner of his mouth. Na’El’s chest tightened and he was unable to finish his words. Furthermore, Moulin did not let him.

“Don’t speak. Rest.” Moulin turned to Snow and Kier. “Take him out of here.”

Kier and Snow were quick to obey. Hauling the elf on Kier’s back, Moulin shortly comforted the anxious Opallian fox before he sent them away. The palm enclosing the last soul fragment tingled. It ached to be whole again. Moulin was going to grant its wish.

Suddenly, loud explosions noised from the other side of the wall. The ground shakes as if there was an army of giants marching in rage. Finally, the ceiling cracks, unable to withstand the force and strength of the trembling world.

Moulin’s eyes are wide in shock as he noticed bits of the ceiling falling before the entrance. Without a moment to think, he bolted towards it. The roots and branches were quick to allow him entry. At last, the ceiling falls, torn apart like a crumbling mountain. Moulin reached the end of the doorway, just in time as the rocks landed with a crash, a storm of dust spreads out and barely throws Moulin off-balance.

However, he only had a few seconds to look ahead before a scorching explosion charged towards his direction. Alarmed, Moulin immediately throws himself behind a pile of rocks barely missing the wave of heat. His sleeves are burnt and he breathed rapidly. The energy within the room was beyond bearable. The concentration of violent, murderous mana almost suffocated him.

When the dust settled, the youth left his hiding place, rising from the ground and examining the area. He was, most of all, worried about a certain person.

Their movements were too fast, Moulin could hardly distinguish them. However, if Alha was distracted, perhaps, Moulin could find a way to reach the niche. His back is filled with cold sweat at the thought. It wouldn’t be a surprise to be blown to pieces before even reaching the other side of the room.

‘Haa…’

I must try.

“Have you come to join us?”

“…!”

Moulin’s eyes widened in alarm. His instincts blared, sensing the threat standing behind him.

Whoosh!

Moulin ducked from the red slash above him. Another was aimed at his legs and Moulin swiftly leaped back, clutching the little wooden in his hand. The demon’s brows twitched, glancing at the maeruthan’s clenched hand.

His blood-red eyes turned darker.

The ground cracked with a bang as he launched himself towards Moulin. His blade ready to cut down the youth’s limbs.

CLASH!

A dark blade collided with the red saber’s edge. Sparks ignited as the weapons scraped against each other. Golden eyes glowed viciously eyeing the loathsome creature before him.

Without tearing his eyes away from the demon, Hadrian deeply spoke to Moulin.

“Go.”