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Chapter 50 - Rivine Of Old Times Part 2

"What did I do to you?" Luna thought as she plummeted down the ravine.

Above her, Niva began dispelling his form, his glowing essence slithering toward the mark on Luna's forehead.

"Did I wrong you in some way to deserve being kidnapped?"

She closed her eyes.

"Why am I so important for you to chase me?"

With a sigh, Luna opened them again, watching the wind rush past as the world blurred. The ground was still far, but a stone bridge loomed closer with every heartbeat.

"Niva, can you cushion my fall?" she called out, her voice calm despite the speed.

There was silence—then his voice, soft and unsure.

"I'll try my best."

"Well… do it now, because I'm nearing a bridge!" Luna shouted, rotating midair to face downward.

Niva cast a spell. Ice crystallized in thin, glimmering sheets across her skin—barely thicker than glass, hugging her body like a second layer.

"I'm sorry, Luna," he whispered, "it won't be enough to protect you fully."

A low hum escaped her, somewhere between disbelief and surrender.

"Mmmmmm… really?" she muttered, dread and resignation coiling in her gut like stone.

As she braced for impact, eyes shut tight, a shadow moved below.

Opening them at the last second, she caught a glimpse of figures moving in unison beneath the archway gate.

"People…" she exhaled and smashed into the bridge

The impact cracked the stone. Dust shot into the air. Her body embedded into the ground, leaving an unmistakable crater.

Footsteps approached fast. Someone called out, voice strained with panic.

"L… Lun… Luna!"

It was Nyx. He rushed to her side, kneeling and carefully prying her out of the shattered stone.

"What happened to you?" he asked, his voice shaking. Her vision swirled from the blow. Blood poured from her reopened wounds, and fresh cuts lined her shoulder and chest.

Nyx's eyes caught the gash along her face. He reached toward it, hand trembling.

"Who did this to you?" he whispered, pain and fury thick in his voice.

Then,

A sudden thundercrack split the air.

Eyril descended like a meteor. His hand smashed into the bridge beside them, stone erupting beneath his fingers as he landed. The entire structure shuddered. Knights staggered back, terror etched into their faces at the sheer brutality of his fall.

Nyx pulled Luna into his arms, holding her close.

Eyril's other hand slammed down next, carving a spider web of cracks that threatened to collapse the entire bridge.

Nyx looked up, jaw tight. Without hesitation, he turned to the gray-haired, bearded Headmaster and handed Luna over.

"Get her to safety. Please."

As the Headmaster carried her off, Nyx unsheathed his sword in a single motion. His foot slid forward, body leaning into a low, practiced stance , ready.

Meanwhile, Eyril gripped the bridge with both hands. With a deep growl, he pushed himself up. His right leg rose and planted itself hard on the stone, his body straightening in one slow, relentless motion.

He stood on the edge of the broken bridge, massive and unmoving , like a god carved from wrath.

Sweat dripped down Nyx's neck. He had never , never , felt such raw pressure from another. Dread washed over him like a tide.

He tightened his grip on his sword and exhaled.

This was different, This was real.

"Who… are you?" Nyx called out, his voice tight with uncertainty.

Eyril didn't answer. He stood there, silent and still, before unsheathing his blade in a slow, deliberate motion.

In a flash, steel clashed. Nyx barely registered the strike before the sound of metal snapping rang out. He looked down, stunned, half of his sword was gone, the blade severed cleanly in two.

His eyes widened. What…?

Stumbling back to the edge of the bridge, Nyx's breath hitched as Eyril's cold gaze turned toward Luna. Without a word, Eyril began walking toward her, each step steady, unhurried, unstoppable.

"No… Stop!" Nyx shouted, gripping the broken hilt tightly.

Eyril didn't flinch. He turned his head slightly, regarding Nyx with a calmness that chilled him to the bone. Then, in one fluid motion, he swung his sword sideways.

The air seemed to rupture. The bridge split apart beneath them with a deafening crack, stone cleaving like warm butter under his strike. The foundation crumbled, and the far end of the bridge collapsed into the abyss below.

Nyx felt the ground give way beneath his boots. His body lurched, weightless for a heartbeat , then he began to plummet.

As he fell, his wide, frantic eyes caught one last glimpse of Eyril.

The man, no, the monster , was already walking again. Slowly. Methodically. Each step toward Luna echoing like a drumbeat of inevitability.

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