Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son - Chapter 176 [Brightest Star] [6]

Chapter 176  [Brightest Star] [6]

“If you can’t kill him,” he said, smiling, “then kill yourself, and both of them will be safe.”

A chilling silence lingered between them. Roen’s casual words put Ashlyn in a dilemma.

She could only stare at him before her gaze dropped to the dagger in her hand.

“Ashlyn.” A soft whisper echoed in her ears. Her head slowly turned, gazing at Azariah.

He shook his head, his message clear: Don’t listen to him.

“Come on, don’t take so much time, girl!” Roen said, his patience waning. “Make your choice already!”

“Ahhh…”

An indescribable sound escaped her trembling lips as she looked up at her sister.

Fear gripped her mind, and she slowly gazed back at the dagger.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at Roen firmly, glaring at him. “Why should I believe you?”

“Do you have any other choice?” he asked, tilting his head.

She bit her lip until it bled, her eyes crucifying him.

“Fine,” Roen whispered, shrugging, pointing at Tiffany. “I swear in the name of my mother, if you kill yourself, I will leave her alone.”

That was all she needed to hear.

She slowly nodded, her hands moving to position the dagger toward her throat.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her head toward Azariah, her lips parting as a pained voice escaped. “Please take care of her.”

“Ashlyn, don’t be stupid!” Azariah yelled. Even in such a situation, he tried to remain calm. “Don’t just believe whatever he’s saying!”

“Do it, girl!” Roen shouted, a gloating expression on his face. “Or if you can’t, just kill the boy.”

Ignoring him, Azariah slowly walked toward her, arms raised slightly. “Ashlyn, listen to me, just once.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her blurry eyes staring at him. She whispered, “Please, don’t leave her alone.”

Those words encapsulated her feelings.

Fear flickered in her eyes, so she closed them.

“Ashlyn—”

“Tch, too much drama,” Roen snarled, looking at them.

Slowly, his lips twisted into a sneer as his fingers moved slightly.

Tiffany’s body trembled violently. A silver string attached to her arm constricted, looping around it.

The next instant, blood gushed forth, and one of her arms dropped to the ground.

Tiffany’s face contorted with pain as blood seeped from the hanging pedestal, falling drop by drop, soaking the ground below.

Ashlyn’s gaze drifted to her sister’s shoulder blankly. Fear, regret, and remorse filled her mind.

“….Tiffy,” she whimpered, gasping for breath.

“Make your choice, girl!” Enjoying her broken reaction, Roen snarled, grinning. “Or else she will lose another arm.”

Tears streamed down Ashlyn’s cheeks as she closed her eyes, bringing the dagger up again.

“Ashlyn!” Azariah yelled, running toward her.

A shockwave of dust erupted as the dagger rushing toward her neck clashed with his katana.

She tried to plunge the dagger again, but Azariah arrived just in time to grab her hand.

Twisting it around, he tried to loosen her grip on the dagger.

“Leave me!” she yelled, not letting go of the dagger. “I said leave me, Azariah!”

She looked at him with dull eyes, showing nothing but the pain she felt.

Azariah pressed his lips together, glancing at Roen. He looked back at her, whispering, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you die.”

“Do something within one minute!” Roen snarled, grinning widely. “Or else….”

His words trailed off as he moved his fingers again. Tiffany’s right arm above her elbow began to constrict.

“Azariah…please,” she choked those words out through trembling lips.

“No,” he replied firmly, staring at her. “Just believe me this once, and don’t try—”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, cutting him off.

A small circle appeared in her hand holding the dagger.

A burst of golden light engulfed the entire dagger, changing its shape into a sword.

Azariah jerked her hand away as the tip of the sword reached for her throat.

“Stop trying to kill yourself!” he yelled as he swung his katana at her dominant hand.

She propelled back, her golden eyes glaring at him.

Ashlyn brought her golden sword across her body and dropped into a crouch as she raised the weapon over her head.

“One minute is enough for me to subdue you,” she whispered softly, prowling at him.

“Amun-Ra’s blessing: First Form: Naqsal.”

Azariah lowered his body, his katana ready, waiting for her.

She swung at him with her sword, and he ducked, attacking the handle. Even as it did so, he was turning, pulling his weapon to one side.

The deflected sword sped past and cracked into the ground off to his right.

He then touched the glowing sword with his free hand, his mana depleting, and so did the energy binding the sword, causing it to crumble, leaving only the dagger.

She propelled herself back, her bloodshot eyes staring at him.

“Forty-five seconds!” Roen shouted, enjoying the fight.

Without saying anything, she threw the dagger to her side before opening her palm.

Two distinct circles emerged in her hands, slowly forming a lance and a rope made out of light.

Azariah gripped his katana tightly, planting his feet wide as she rushed toward him again.

She threw the lance at him, but Azariah didn’t move, knowing it was just a feint.

His intuition didn’t betray him. The lance rushed past him while she whipped the rope around his left leg.

Cracks emerged in the ground as he rushed toward her, twisting his body to avoid it.

She flicked the rope, its end turning into a lance, rushing at him like a snake.

He thrust his katana, trying to parry it, but Ashlyn had already flicked her wrist, completing the feint and dipping under his katana.

Grabbing the rope with both hands, she tried to loop it around his neck.

But her body stopped abruptly, like all the energy had vanished.

Azariah ducked down, avoiding the ropes as Ashlyn’s body regained its movement.

“Fifteen seconds!” Roen shouted. “You better do something, girl!”

She bit her lip until it bled as she glared at him. Azariah calmly looked at her.

His lips parted to say something, but he held himself back.

She extended her hands sideways, two lances made of pure light appearing in her hands.

“Ashlyn—”

“Just leave me alone!” she yelled, grabbing both lances before prowling toward him.

A magic circle appeared around her calves, her body blurring as she broke the sound barrier. In the blink of an eye, the lances descended toward Azariah.

She tried to catch him off guard, but he was ready.

Forcefully twisting his body, his arm contorted at an abnormal angle to parry both lances.

Dust erupted as their weapons clashed. He used his blessing again to disintegrate her lance.

But it didn’t end there. She kept making lances as she repeatedly attacked him, making it harder for him to fend her off.

Azariah propelled back, creating distance between them. Nôv(el)B\jnn

She gasped for breath as she looked at Azariah.

Her eyes drifted toward her sister. She was bleeding, her face extremely pale, her breath ragged.

She then glanced back at Azariah, her lips trembling as she whispered softly, “I’m sorry.”

Another lance made of light emerged in her hand. She gripped it tightly, taking a deep breath.

Lowering her body, she touched her dominant arm with her free hand.

Slowly, different magic circles began to emerge on her hand—the same circles that were imbued in her calves.

She clenched her jaw, ready for the pain that was bound to come.

“Five second—”

Roen’s words halted abruptly as Ashlyn twisted her body toward him.

She drew in a deep breath, followed by a burst of explosive movement: her hips twisted, arms moving.

The lance left her hand, hissing through the air, leaving a trail of gold in its wake.

Roen was in no position to defend himself and could only watch in horror as the lance reached his face in the blink of an eye.

BOOM!!

“Huff…Huff…”

In the silence, only the sound of Ashlyn’s ragged breathing echoed, her dominant hand filled with bruises, blood seeping down from it.

The debris around Roen started to settle as Ashlyn looked in his direction.

Azariah slowly walked toward the tree as well, gripping his katana.

“…Ahh.”

Ashlyn let out a strained voice as the dust settled and she could see Roen again.

….Alive.

Roen reached out, touching his cheek, a trail of blood leaking from it.

His eyes drifted back to Ashlyn, a small smile etched on his face. “You shouldn’t have done that, girl.”

….His fingers moved.

Azariah prowled toward him at full speed without delay.

But it was already too late.

….The silver string around Tiffany’s neck constricted, her veins bulging.

Right in front of Ashlyn’s eyes, the string cut through her neck.

And, much to her despair, with a thud, her sister’s head fell on the ground. Her headless body still strapped to the pedestal.

Pain lumped in her chest as she fell on her knees.

Her world slipped with every breath she took.

The lump in her chest grew bigger, her eyelids slowly closing.

…..Azariah still rushed towards Roen.