Chapter 1250
Swoooosh!
Runaan pushed off the earth, her movement a blur of silver footwork. In a heartbeat, she had ghosted behind the cloaked monstrosity, bringing her jagged blade of frost down in a lethal arc.
"Heurk!"
The hooded creature let out a truncated gasp, twisting his frame with violent agility. He parried Runaan's icy edge by a hair’s breadth before rebounding off a nearby trunk to leap into the distance.
"Honestly..."
Runaan exhaled a heavy, clouded breath, her growing exasperation visible in her features as she surged after the robed figure.
She tore through the woodland, her pace so blistering that the world became a smear of colors, yet the cloaked man navigated the obstacles with such expertise that he remained just out of reach.
"Quit fleeing and..."
Runaan's teeth sank into her lip until a bead of crimson appeared. She stared out at the desolate brown expanse that opened up as the forest fell away.
"Just perish..."
She unleashed a wave of sword force toward the figure who was now weaving through the tall reeds, his aura suppressed as perfectly as a prowling predator.
Kwaaaang!
The impact zone of Runaan's strike turned a brittle, crystalline white. The reeds, which had been dancing in the breeze, were frozen solid, looking as though they had been trapped in a snapshot of time.
"Keurk!"
A cry escaped the robed monster as he leaped clear of the frozen thicket, yet his skin remained unblemished. He had managed a flawless evasion even against Runaan's wide-area freezing technique.
Realizing that the environment no longer offered cover, the cloaked executive began to cross the open field at his absolute limits. He blurred across the dirt at a velocity that defied the eye, revealing he hadn't even been trying his hardest until now.
"Haa..."
Runaan ground her teeth together, crouching low to the earth. She was coiled like a spring, ready to execute her footwork again to hunt him down to the bitter end.
Suddenly, two figures wielding blades plummeted from above, landing directly in Runaan's path.
"That is enough!"
Martha stood in her way, shaking her head firmly.
"Cease the pursuit."
She tightened her grip on her hilt, signaling that she would no longer permit these independent actions.
"Martha has the right of it."
Burren took his place beside Martha, his hand moving to stroke his chin in a pensive manner.
"I never imagined I would find myself agreeing with Martha, but in this instance, she isn't wrong."
He also obstructed the route Runaan intended to take, insisting that she let the robed monster go.
"Why...?"
Runaan looked up, her gaze dark and hollow, filled with a lack of comprehension.
"That is the foe... and it is Eden..."
She gnawed on her lip, staring past her comrades at the retreating silhouette of the cloaked man.
"You witnessed it as well..."
A breath thick with murderous intent escaped Runaan's lips.
"They are all... filth that must be erased..."
She bared her teeth in a snarl, declaring that every single Ghost of Eden deserved nothing but death.
"Indeed. I am in full agreement with that sentiment."
Martha nodded, acknowledging the truth in Runaan’s fury.
"Then step aside..."
Runaan’s grip on her sword tightened until the leather creaked, her intent clear: she would finish this personally.
"No, the answer is still no."
Martha remained unmoved, meeting Runaan’s lethal stare with a calm shake of her head.
"That wretch..."
She gestured toward the cloaked man, who hadn't vanished entirely but was lingering at a distance, seemingly catchable as he paused to breathe.
"He is baiting you."
Martha’s brow furrowed, certain that the high-ranking Eden member was playing a game of cat and mouse.
"It was obvious from my perspective at the rear."
Burren let out a quiet, tired sigh.
"The bastard led us here by keeping just enough distance to keep you hopeful, yet never actually letting you close the gap. He is pulling you in by the nose."
He too cast a glare at the distant monster, his suspicions mirroring Martha’s.
"A trap, you say..."
Runaan made a sharp clicking sound with her tongue.
"I am aware... regardless... he must be caught..."
A wave of numbing cold radiated from her; she was determined to seize him, trap or no trap.
"I told you no!"
Martha kicked the dirt in a fit of pique. Her surge of emotion sent a tremor through the ground like a minor quake.
"Do you have any idea what waits out there!"
Martha let out a huff like an enraged beast.
"The warriors slaughtered at the boundary couldn't even put up a fight—stabbed in the back and left to rot! There could be a master who has crossed into transcendence or a sorcerer of that caliber lurking!"
She shook her head violently, adamant that they must not stray further from Zieghart's territory.
"I do not care... what lies ahead..."
Runaan’s dry lips parted slightly.
"I can... slay them all..."
She hoisted her blade, radiating a fierce belief in her own combat capabilities.
"Ugh, you are being completely irrational!"
Martha yelled in annoyance, her patience wearing thin.
"Runaan."
Burren stepped forward, a steadying hand landing on Martha’s shoulder.
"Our objective isn't the total destruction of Eden; it is the protection of the Shadow Agents. We are here to safeguard them through their recon, not to chase ghosts across the map."
He spoke with the weight of cold logic, trying to steer her back to their mission.
"Furthermore, that individual is clearly leading us on. We need to pull back. Truthfully, we've already strayed too far."
Burren glanced around, noting that their distance from Zieghart's border was greater than he liked.
"I am issuing an order as Vice Palace Master. The leader of the Full Moon Division is to retreat and reform with the unit immediately."
He had dropped the tone of a comrade, speaking now with the authority of his rank.
"Hmm..."
Runaan’s expression darkened as she lowered her weapon, unable to simply disregard an official command from the Vice Palace Master.
"Finally, some common sense."
Martha rolled her shoulders.
"Think of Raon, if not yourself."
She sighed, wondering aloud how Raon would react to such recklessness.
"Raon..."
The moment that name reached Runaan’s ears, a dual light of violet and obsidian flickered in her eyes. Her aura shifted, becoming simultaneously somber and strangely revitalized.
"Hmm...?"
Martha tilted her head, confused by the odd transition in Runaan's demeanor.
Swooosh.
The cloaked monster, who had been watching from afar, drifted back toward the center of the frost-covered field and reached into his robes.
"Watch out!"
"Stay sharp."
Martha and Burren instantly went on the defensive, their blades leveled at the figure.
However, the object the man produced wasn't a blade or a spell focus; it was a simple crown woven from various wildflowers.
It was a clumsy thing, looking as though a child had put it together, but every petal was stained a gruesome, wet red.
"Flowers?"
"A flower crown? Why?"
Martha and Burren stared, blindsided by the bizarre choice of item.
"It doesn't radiate the power of an artifact. What is the point of that..."
Martha scowled, unable to find any tactical reason for the display.
"Stay wary."
Burren breathed out slowly.
"It could be a cursed object or a medium for a spell."
He signaled with his free hand for them to step back.
"Runaan. We are leaving. We'll head back to Birdnew Village... hmm?"
Burren turned to ensure Runaan was following.
"Haa..."
Runaan was breathing in ragged gasps, her eyes locked on the crude wreath in the enemy's hand. She seemed to have completely blocked out Burren’s commands and Martha’s warnings, her body tensing for a sprint.
"That crown..."
Runaan’s teeth bit deep into her lip.
"He murdered them... that monster... even the little ones..."
A wellspring of raw grief and desperation filled her darkening eyes. She looked like a person transformed by a sudden, harrowing realization.
"Children? What are you talking about!"
Martha looked between Runaan and the cloaked figure, her sword still raised.
"Get a grip!"
She reached out, grabbing Runaan by the shoulders and shaking her, trying to break whatever trance she was in.
"Is it a mental spell?"
Burren narrowed his vision, searching for signs of external influence on Runaan.
"No, there is no trace of mana manipulation."
He bit his lip, realizing the flower crown itself—or what it represented—was the catalyst.
"The bastard is using psychological warfare!"
Martha spat toward the ground, her anger flaring at the robed figure's games.
Crack!
Runaan violently threw off Martha’s hands.
"Move."
The usual trailing quality of her speech was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp finality.
"Huh...?"
"Ru, Runaan..."
Both Martha and Burren were taken aback by her tone.
"That flower crown was a gift to me."
Runaan ground her teeth, her resolve to kill the man now absolute.
"I told you, you're not going!"
Martha stood her ground, refusing to let her friend walk into a trap.
"I can't allow it either. I won't watch a teammate—a friend—march toward their death."
Burren dug his heels into the soil, refusing to budge.
"Then I will go through you."
Runaan shook her head, her eyes beginning to turn a desperate shade of red. She was beyond the point of retreat.
"This is becoming a massive headache."
Martha's grip on her sword tightened, her irritation reaching a boiling point.
"You're going to answer for this later."
She clicked her tongue at Runaan, implying they would settle this internal dispute by force if necessary.
"It’s going exactly the way you predicted, Martha."
Burren gave a short, dry laugh, glancing at his companion.
"I just hope the conclusion follows your script as well."
He raised his blade, praying for a favorable outcome to the madness.
"......"
Runaan leveled her frost-laden sword at her two friends, her intent to pass them unshakeable.
"Try and stop me!"
"I expected a real fight with Martha eventually, but against Runaan? The world has gone mad."
Martha and Burren settled into their combat stances, steadying their breath.
"Do not obstruct me. If you do, you will be broken."
Runaan’s entire form began to glow with a silver light as snow started to drift from the sky and the field beneath her turned to solid ice. In her heightened state of martial focus, she seemed to be exerting influence over the very elements.
The flakes she summoned were more than just frozen water; they carried the weight of her sword intent, cracking the earth where they landed. The frost crawling across the ground carried a lethal chill, one that felt capable of freezing a soul in place.
She stood there with a terrifying, divine presence, looking like a goddess of the frozen wastes.
As Martha adjusted her stance, a volcanic heat surged from the earth beneath her, incinerating the frost Runaan had laid down.
"I haven't exactly been idle while you were training. It’s a bit ahead of schedule, but..."
She exhaled a plume of steam, her chin lifted high.
"I'm going to take you down."
Martha flashed a chilling, confident grin.
"And then I'm going to beat that cloaked bastard to a pulp."
She redirected a portion of her killing intent toward the robed executive, who seemed to be savoring the infighting.
"Haa..."
Burren took a two-handed grip on his sword, his breath coming out hot. The snow and ice that drifted toward him were sliced and melted before they could touch him, as if his very presence was a blade. He felt less like a man and more like a sharpened edge capable of cutting the very atmosphere.
"Let's see the fruits of my father's regime."
Burren's aura expanded, matching Runaan’s icy majesty with a sharp, unyielding pressure of his own.
The three conflicting energies collided in the center of the expanse, turning the sky into a chaotic triptych of colors while the ground groaned and cracked as if the world's foundation was giving way.
Runaan lunged into the heart of the pressure at the exact moment the auras peaked and sparks of raw power ignited. Threads of frost, fine as silk, bloomed from her blade to constrict the space around Martha and Burren.
The two responded instantly. Martha’s heavy, crushing strike blasted the frost aside, while Burren’s precision edge severed the freezing energy into harmless fragments.
The three of them traded strikes with lethal intent, as if they were sworn enemies, each searching for a gap in the others' defenses.
As the battle between these three masters—all standing at the threshold of transcendence—raged on, a fierce gale whipped across the field.
In the midst of that howling north wind, the hood of the Eden executive who had orchestrated this clash was finally blown back.
"Aah..."
It wasn't a monster underneath. A small man, wearing a helmet shaped like a woodland rabbit, spoke in a congested, trembling voice.
"Runaan..."
