Ava lay cold and motionless, caught between life and death as the black mist drained her remaining warmth. Each breath was shallower than the last, her pallid skin a silent testament to the life slipping away. In the hush of the library’s hidden chamber, only the rustling of pages and the watchful eyes peering from black, disembodied hands accompanied her fading pulse.

  Beyond the walls, however, chaos reigned. Noah and the others fought a desperate battle against endless maid warriors and towering black knights, their shouts echoing with fury and raw fear. Steel clashed upon bone, and spells crackled through the corridors. Amid it all, Noah’s voice tore the air:

  “Damn it, Ava—hold on!”

  Every blow he landed, every abomination he slashed down, was a step closer to the locked room where the woman he loved lay dying.

  Inside that grim library, Celeste stood over Ava’s limp form, triumphant delight shining in her star-threaded hair. She had diverted all minions to hinder Noah, leaving her free to savor her grim work uninterrupted.

  “Madam Medusa will be so pleased,” Celeste murmured, running a finger over Ava’s pallid cheek. “One intruder down, at last.”

  She lifted Ava and placed her on a sturdy desk, as though displaying a captured prize. Overhead lanterns cast stark shadows that seemed to mock any hope of rescue. Celeste’s gaze moved to the corridor door, measuring how long Noah could last.

  “Soon, they’ll be too worn out to stop me,” she purred, eyes glittering with predatory confidence.

  Then, a faint twitch ran through Ava’s hand.

  Celeste froze, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “No…that’s impossible. A king’s candidate? That can’t be.”

  Ava’s body shuddered again, and Celeste’s calm veneer cracked. Gravitational force rippled around the desk, smashing its legs as though made of clay. Wood fragments scattered across the floor.

  “Stay dead!” Celeste shrieked, her starlit hair blazing with raw power. The crushing weight around Ava magnified tenfold. Air quivered from the strain, as if the entire castle pressed onto Ava’s body.

  For a heartbeat, it looked final. But Ava’s eyes snapped open, and Celeste’s raging ability sputtered. Abruptly, Celeste’s limbs locked in place, her power cut off mid-roar. Shock flashed in her eyes. She’d been paralyzed.

  Ava rose unsteadily, sclera turned pitch-black, with inky veins coiling along her arms and neck. Her stare was distant, as though she hovered in another realm.

  Snarling, Celeste freed herself just as her cat, Duvet, lunged at Ava in a monstrous, black mist–warped form. Ava sidestepped with uncanny poise, leaving the mutated cat swiping air.

  “How are you alive?” Celeste spat, voice crackling with disbelief. She readied her gravitational magic again, casting off any facade of calm. “You must be a half-formed king’s candidate—do you even know how to wield that power?”

  A swirl of darkness coated Celeste’s robe and limbs, forming layered gauntlets and an obsidian headband. Floating hands of black mist brandished an array of weapons around her in a macabre crown—the hallmark of a Monarch’s conjured soldiers. Celeste moved lightly, adjusting her own weight to near-nothing with a Warlock’s skill, while sporting Dark Knight armor. She was a terrifying blend of all three king’s candidate classes.

  “I’ll show you real mastery,” she said icily, star-like sparks dancing through her cyan hair. “Let’s see how your fledgling abilities fare against someone who knows the black mist inside and out.”

  Ava’s eyes remained glazed, the black vines on her arms pulsing in time with her racing heart. She tested her newfound power, forming two shadowy daggers—unstable remnants of black mist. She had no illusions, Celeste’s domain was stacked with watchful, ghostly hands, and Ava’s best paralysis demanded close contact or enormous mana, neither of which she could easily manage. Her stealth Regalia, Robin Hood, meant little now that so many eyes lined the walls.

  Celeste smiled coolly, closing in. “When a king’s candidate truly wants to kill another,” she taunted, “they consume all the black mist in their opponent’s body.”

  Celeste leapt forward, her living sword—a shapeshifted black mist core from the cat—whirling in lethal arcs. Ava barely sidestepped. She forced a shaky grin despite the odds. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”

  For a second, Ava funneled everything into her paralysis ability. Celeste, mid-attack, seized up, limbs rigid and sword halted. In a heartbeat, Ava lunged, ignoring the agony in her muscles, slicing at one of the black mist hands that hovered near Celeste. With a snip of her blade, she severed a single finger, thick with black ichor. Grimacing, Ava grabbed the dripping piece and swallowed it, face twisting in revulsion.

  Instantly, Ava’s aura flared. Darkness around her arms deepened, as though devouring that stolen energy. Though the dismembered hand regenerated almost immediately, Celeste’s fury was unmistakable.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “You arrogant little—!” Celeste spat, eyes blazing. Both combatants understood the new stakes: whoever could seize more black mist would gain the upper hand. They stood poised for another vicious exchange, Celeste’s star-laced hair crackling with malice, Ava’s newly awakened power pulsing through half-formed black veins.

  Noah and the rest of the party finally drove back the last wave of monstrous maids and black knights, their remains dissolving into black mist across the corridor. Panting and sore, the group neared the door where Ava was held.

  Before they could force it open, a new threat emerged. A spiked orb of black metal and mist whistled through the air, aimed directly at Noah. Acting on instinct, he dove aside as it struck near the door in a violent burst of spikes. The corridor lights flickered on the orb’s iron petals, now rooted in front of the doorway, sealing it behind a macabre barricade.

  Noah turned, fury blazing in his eyes. The man who’d thrown it stepped forward with a chilling grin. He had short cyan hair shimmering like starlight and sharp crimson eyes. Dressed in a tailored tuxedo, dual holsters at his sides, he wore a tall top hat that seemed alive with eerie energy.

  “Get out of my way,” Noah snarled, voice dark with desperation. “Or I’ll cut you down.”

  Unmoved, Evander tilted his head with smug calm. “Try me, brat.”

  Noah gripped his sword tighter, a cold resolve etched across his features. “Everyone else, stand back,” he ordered. Inside that locked chamber, Ava needed him—he couldn’t waste any more time.

  Inside the Library, Ava fought tooth and nail as Celeste’s gravitational assaults pinned her again and again, blending black mist with starry magic that contorted the library’s hush into a personal hell. Yet Ava found a desperate advantage: devouring slivers of Celeste’s black mist increased her own power. With each successful slash, she seized morsels of Celeste’s form, swallowing them with revulsion but forging new strength in the process.

  Snarling, Celeste shaped a new gravitational spell. “Collapse—Warlock Twist!” she spat. Gravity warped violently, hurtling Ava to the ceiling. A jolt of pain tore through Ava’s spine as she clung to an overhead beam. Below, Celeste hurtled upward, her cyan hair sparkling with vengeful fury, living sword snapping with black mist jaws.

  Ava inhaled sharply. Though her right arm burned, she slashed again with inky, vine-like spears—harvesting bits of Celeste’s shifting flesh. Celeste shrieked, sprouting yet more limbs and weapons out of swirling black mist. The library’s shelves and lamp-lit alcoves provided precarious footholds for their deadly dance.

  Enraged, Celeste lunged. Her living blade latched onto Ava’s arm, biting deep, and triumph gleamed in Celeste’s eyes—until Ava poured all her energy into a paralysis surge. Celeste froze mid-attack, eyes wide with shock.

  They tumbled downward. Ava tore free of the blade by ripping off her own arm, ignoring the agony. Mid-fall, she flung the severed limb beneath them, reshaping it into a black-mist spear braced against the floor. She twisted, forcing Celeste onto the spike’s tip at the last instant. A sickening crunch echoed through the library as dark vines sprang up, draining Celeste from within. Celeste’s screams faded to a rasp, her body dissolving into thick ink and vanishing black fragments.

  Panting and bloodied, Ava knelt, half-dazed as she clutched her shoulder. She had won.

  Just outside, the air reeked of scorched fabric and iron. Evander planted himself between Noah and the library door, his eyes brimming with fanatic devotion. With guns drawn, he unleashed bullets charged with black mist—each round twisted into barbed chains, snapping jaws, or spiked tendrils that battered and clawed at Noah’s defenses.

  “Enough!” Noah roared, blade flickering with each parry. Sparks showered the corridor as he slashed aside each monstrous bullet. In glimpses, he saw tiny dark “cores” hidden in the swirling ammo, confirming Evander’s monarch-class expertise.

  Gritting his teeth, Evander invoked his ability, Pendulum, causing a wave of magic that sapped Noah’s speed, leaving him sluggish. In a heartbeat, Evander charged, pummeling Noah with rapid blows. Noah tried to raise his sword, but each strike rattled his bones. Just when it seemed hopeless, Adam darted in from the flank, forcing Evander to shift his focus. The Pendulum effect flickered off Noah, who seized the opening with a savage upward slash. Black blood splattered across the floor.

  Screaming in desperate fury, Evander brandished a living gatling gun formed from his top hat’s black mist. Bullets rained down in a relentless hail of nightmare shapes. But Noah exhaled, letting his sword clatter aside. Draconic scales erupted across his arms and torso. He charged straight into the barrage, swatting aside each bullet. Startled, Evander attempted Pendulum again, but Adam’s interference broke his timing. Too late—Noah’s claws seized Evander’s throat in a crushing grip.

  Dark spots pulsed along Noah’s arm as he pulled the black mist from Evander’s body. The power drained away in moments, leaving him frail and mortal. He sank to the ground, eyes dimming, driven by an unbreakable loyalty to Medusa. And then he was still.

  Noah let Evander’s body slump, then sprinted to the battered door. Adam, Cyrus, and Lucy flanked him, cutting down the last barrier, and they burst into the library at last.

  The air reeked of stale ink and spilled mist. Ava leaned against a damaged bookshelf, half-collapsed, her clothes torn and bloodied. Yet she looked up with relief as Noah raced to her side. Black vines slithered around her stump of a missing arm—remnants of Celeste’s savage duel.

  “Ava!” Noah cried, his voice raw with concern as he scooped her into his arms.

  She gave a faint smile. “Don’t worry…I can fix this.” She placed her remaining hand on a spear made from her severed limb, absorbing it back into her body. Slowly, bone and muscle rebuilt themselves, her arm re-forming. The process left her trembling, but whole.

  Noah pressed his forehead to hers, eyes shining with tears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t faster.”

  Ava shook her head, trying for a light grin despite her fatigue. “You got here exactly when I needed you.” Drawing close, she placed a brief, gentle kiss on his lips—an island of tenderness in the midst of ruin.

  Then she pushed off him, steadying herself. “We still have to finish this, right?”

  Noah nodded, his heart still pounding. “Yeah,” he said softly. “We do.”

  They turned to the door beyond, where unspeakable horrors likely waited—and where Medusa herself presided with cosmic cruelty. Yet united in near-tragedy, they found renewed purpose. Together they would press on, forging deeper into Medusa’s domain, determined to see their mission through.

  Behind them, the last fragments of Celeste and Evander’s ambush faded into silence, black mist evaporating into the unholy gloom. Onward, the castle halls beckoned with looming shadows and final confrontations.