Chapter 121: Spare You? Who Will Spare Us?

Lev City was in ruins, a landscape scarred by debris and fire.

Broken corpses lay scattered across the wreckage. From their attire, it was clear that most were knights and militiamen, yet these were but a fraction of the dead; many others had been reduced to nothingness.

On the shattered remnants of the city wall sat a strange earthen orb, five or six meters in diameter.

*Crack.*

A fissure appeared on its surface, followed instantly by a web of cracks. With a sharp *bang*, the entire sphere shattered. As the fragments fell, figures were revealed within.

Count Lev and his personal guards stood there in a wretched state. Their ornate armor was thick with dust, yet they had sustained little direct injury.

"That was close," Count Lev gasped, wiping cold sweat from his brow. He raised his right hand and slowly opened his palm.

Resting there was a finger-length wing, translucent and amber-colored, covered in intricate patterns that pulsed with a faint, spiritual light.

*Snap.*

The wing suddenly shattered, crumbling into a pile of fine powder.

"Even the Fairy’s Wing has broken?"

Count Lev stared at the dust, his face etched with dread and terror. This had been his secret weapon—the Fairy’s Wing, capable of manifesting a massive stone wall in an instant to block an enemy's advance. He had used it to save his life in the nick of time, but he had not expected the enemy’s assault to be so ferocious that even the artifact could withstand only one strike.

"My Lord, what do we do now?" a guard asked, his voice trembling. The bizarre, terrifying nature of the attack had shattered his resolve, and he longed only to flee this hellish place.

Count Lev glanced toward the distant metal monster and commanded without hesitation, "Move!"

As the words left his lips, his heart hammered violently. A sense of overwhelming crisis, far more terrifying than before, surged through him.

He immediately pulled another Fairy’s Wing from his pocket. A yellowish light flickered, and once again, an earthen orb encased them.

High above, a massive shell plummeted, slamming into the ruins behind the city gate.

*BOOM!*

A blinding radiance instantly engulfed the world. A gargantuan fireball expanded rapidly, its height quickly surpassing the city walls and consuming the orb atop them. A miniature sun had been born—fervent, divine, and radiating a power that promised absolute destruction.

The shockwave, accompanied by waves of searing heat, rippled outward, rapidly consuming the oxygen in the air. Inside the earthen orb, the temperature soared. Everyone felt as if they were trapped in a furnace; their hair ignited instantly.

"Aaah!" a knight screamed in agony, feeling as though his blood were boiling. The others fared no better, their cries of pain piercing the air. Only Count Lev, the most powerful among them, managed to survive by channeling his protective aura.

Even he eventually reached his limit, howling, "What kind of attack is this?!"

The orb had become a giant kiln, incinerating everyone within. Once their hair was gone, their skin began to blister and rot, as if invisible flames were consuming their flesh. Though only seconds had passed, for those trapped inside, it felt like hours.

The massive fireball dissipated, and the terrifying heat slowly subsided. The earthen orb crumbled once more, revealing a group of people whose hair had been burned away, their bodies covered in severe burns. One by one, the knights collapsed, moaning in agony.

Count Lev was no exception, though he was in better condition than the others; at least he could still stand.

"Another wing gone."

He tossed the powder from his hand into the air and began to limp away. "We must leave this place at once."

*Thwack.*

A hand suddenly grabbed his foot. It was one of his personal guards.

"My Lord... save... save me..."

Count Lev looked down at the knight, whose skin resembled a boiled shrimp. Ignoring the plea, he kicked the man away without hesitation.

"Get lost!"

Unimpeded, he leaped from the ten-meter-high wall, crashing hard into the ruins below. He fell, then struggled to his feet. With heavy eyelids and clenched teeth, his scorched face was a mask of pain.

He had to get out of here before that bizarre attack struck again. He had no more Fairy’s Wings; he could not survive another blow like that.

*Strange. Why can’t I breathe?*

Count Lev gasped for air, but it was as if no oxygen entered his lungs. Every breath was a searing pain; it felt as if he were inhaling fire, his lungs burning from within.

*Thud.*

He collapsed to his knees, bracing himself with his hands, his chest heaving violently. He could feel the air returning—he could take shallow breaths now—but he had nearly suffocated.

Just as his consciousness began to fade, the surrounding ruins shifted. Stone fragments coalesced into a three-meter-tall giant. The construct scooped up the Count and began to sprint away. Despite its massive, heavy form, it moved with surprising agility, quickly putting distance between them and the city gate.

Count Lev finally drew a precious breath of air.

After running for over a minute, they reached the edge of the ruins, where the stone golem set the Count down in the middle of the road.

"How pathetic," a familiar voice remarked. A pair of high heels appeared in his line of sight.

Count Lev struggled to look up and saw a noblewoman in a long red dress.

"Cough, cough!" He spat out blood, offering a hideous smile. "My beautiful, elegant lady, thank you for saving me."

"Hmph, spare me the pleasantries. We need to run," she said, her expression cold. "Give me the key now. We take the fairy and leave."

"The key is not on me," Count Lev shook his head.

"What? Things have come to this, and you still don't trust me?" She frowned, her face showing clear displeasure. Even at death's door, this man remained guarded.

Count Lev managed a bitter laugh. "It truly isn't on me, my dear lady. Do you think I would carry something so important? I hid the key somewhere in the castle; I only go to retrieve it when needed."

The woman stared into his eyes. Seeing no sign of a lie, she waved for the stone golem to pick him up. "Fine. Back to the castle."

As they turned to leave, a clear, melodic voice rang out from behind them.

"Back where?"

The woman whipped around. A figure emerged slowly from the ruins: a golden-haired girl in worn armor, holding a simple, unadorned iron sword in one hand and a rolled-up crimson flag in the other.

Seeing the girl, the woman did not hesitate. She raised her spell crystal, and a pre-prepared barrage of spells poured forth. The ground shook, and jagged stone spikes erupted like a tidal wave, piercing toward the girl.

Olina’s expression remained indifferent. She leveled her iron sword, sank into a low stance, and stepped forward. With a thunderous boom, she launched herself forward.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

A black blur flashed past. With overwhelming force, the stone spikes shattered into pieces. Her carefully prepared spell had been rendered utterly useless.

"How is that possible?!" The woman’s eyes were filled with shock and disbelief.

The girl stood before her, looking at her with a gaze as cold as if she were viewing an ant. The stone golem dropped the Count and lunged at Olina, attempting to crush her with its multi-ton frame.

Olina didn't even glance at the golem; she simply swung her blade to the side.

*BOOM!*

A violent gust of wind erupted, and the stone giant exploded into rubble, leaving a five-meter-long trench in the ground.

*What kind of monster is this?!*

The woman’s eyes widened in terror. She raised her spell crystal and hurled a fireball.

"Die." Olina raised her iron sword high and brought it down in a brutal arc.

Another massive wave of pressure blew the fireball away instantly, and the woman was sent flying backward like a projectile.

"Agh—cough!"

Mid-air, she vomited blood, fragments of her internal organs mixed within. Olina locked her gaze onto the flying enemy and hurled her iron sword. The blade caught up with the woman at an incredible speed, piercing her body and running her through the heart!

*Combat Protocol: Upon encountering an enemy on the battlefield, deliver the most violent attack immediately. Leave no room for mercy.*

*Thud!*

With a heavy impact, the woman was pinned to the clock tower in the center of the plaza.

"Ugh..." She looked down at the iron sword in her chest. It was worn, crude, simple, and possessed no spiritual power. *It’s just an ordinary iron sword... why is its power so immense?*

Having dispatched the first enemy, Olina walked toward Count Lev. Seeing his mangled face, she tilted her head. "Count Lev?"

The Count, who had been in despair, saw a glimmer of hope. He nodded eagerly and said respectfully, "Yes! I am Count Lev. I surrender! I accept any reparations for my defeat!"

Since she had asked, she must intend to negotiate. As long as he could keep his life, he would agree to anything—even betraying his ancestors, ceding land, paying tributes, or bowing his head in servitude.

*CRUNCH!*

The Count was kicked to the ground. The sheer force crushed his chest inward, causing the ground beneath him to cave in as cracks spider-webbed outward. He vomited a mouthful of blood.

"P-please... spare me..."

*Why? Was she not planning to negotiate? She wants to kill me! How dare she?! Is she not afraid of violating the taboos of noble warfare?*

Olina stepped on his chest, looking down at him with icy eyes. A vision flashed through her mind, and her expression grew colder, a faint red light flickering in the depths of her gaze.

"I spare you? And who spares us? We were just trying to eat a piece of black bread. We just wanted to not go hungry. We just wanted to survive! That is all! That is all!"

*Sheep fat, driving out refugees, the Hanging Gardens, slaves, weeds...*

*STOMP!*

She stepped down again. Blood splattered, and more cracks appeared in the earth.

"Such a simple request, yet why did you trample on it again and again? My mother... she only wanted to buy me a cake. Why was she beaten to death by nobles? Ah! Tell me, why? Why couldn't you spare my mother?!"

Her voice was a mixture of a roar and a sob.

"I only wanted to have a birthday! A simple, ordinary birthday... with my mother!"

*STOMP!*

Another step, and the Count’s chest cavity shattered completely.

Facing Olina’s interrogation, he had no power to answer. He could only stare up with terrified eyes as blood choked his throat, his inner voice screaming in madness.

"You all deserve to die!"

*RIP!*

His head was torn clean away.