To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 156

At that moment, Drakal, who had been lying motionless as if dead, suddenly jerked his head up.

“Take this!!!”

With a venomous glare, Drakal hurled something—a glass bottle—toward Varkan. Reacting instinctively, Varkan summoned his power.

Crash—!

As with anything that dared to approach Varkan without permission, the bottle shattered in midair, exploding into countless shards. But its contents, a strange, milky substance somewhere between liquid and gas, scattered into the air and sprayed over him.

Ssss—

“Varkan! Are you okay?!” Irel cried, panic rising. What if it was poison or acid? She tried to rush over, but Varkan held up a hand to stop her.

“Stay back. It might be dangerous.”

She hesitated but realized he was right—getting involved would only put her at risk. As Irel reluctantly stepped away, beams of light began to rise from the ground where she had just stood.

Zzzzzing—

Something immense was happening. Drakal’s eyes glowed with a blinding white light, and the pillars of light surrounding Varkan shot up high like prison bars, closing in around him.

“You think something like this will work on me?”

Varkan, trapped in the middle, gave a savage grin. The strange liquid that had spilled from the bottle clung to his sleeves, irritating him. It felt like it was seeping into his skin, burning through his veins.

‘So much for sparing him,’ he thought, deciding to disable Drakal instead. He aimed his fingers at Drakal’s arm and snapped them to unleash his fire, but instead of the usual fiery explosion, blood spurted from Varkan’s mouth.

“Varkan!!!” Irel’s face turned pale with horror. Varkan opened his mouth as if to reassure her, but more blood poured out instead.

“Cough, cough!”

The Varkan she knew was invincible, always smugly strong, combining natural talent with countless battles. He seemed like someone who would never lose. Yet, here he was, hunched over, coughing up blood. She could see the pain etched into his features between the fingers covering his face. Drakal, seeing this, got to his feet and laughed triumphantly.

“You’re powerless against this! Take it—the gift from hell!!”

With a triumphant shout, Drakal clenched his outstretched hand, and the light pillars around Varkan flared with intense heat. Even standing at a distance, Irel could feel the heat prickling her skin, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Varkan!!”

Varkan was in danger. Irel frantically looked around for something—anything—that might help. She felt utterly powerless, but there was no way she could just stand by and watch.

Maybe she could throw something to distract Drakal like before? But there was nothing suitable around. A steel shield, dropped by a fallen soldier, rolled nearby, but it was far too heavy for her to lift.

What should she do? The only thing she had was her Sevring ability, which wouldn’t be of much help…

‘Wait!’

She remembered how Masakas had reacted when she used her Sevring power before. They had become limp, as if sedated, their muscles completely relaxed. Maybe Drakal would react the same way? She could manipulate Masakas’ energy, after all.

It was worth a try. If she could disrupt him for even a moment, it might be enough to turn the tide.

‘Please, God, help me.’

Unsure which god to pray to, she kicked off her shoes and crept closer to Drakal, who was completely focused on Varkan.

Thankfully, he paid her no mind. Like most Masakas, he saw her as a powerless being, unworthy of attention. To him, she was just a non-threatening presence, not even worth sparing a thought.

“Leave Varkan alone, you bastard!”

Irel pressed her hand onto Drakal’s back and summoned her Sevring energy, yanking on Drakal’s power like a fishing line. The energy he was emitting toward Varkan suddenly faltered and diverted toward Irel.

“What… what is this?!”

The once towering beams of light visibly weakened, thinning out. Through the shrinking gaps, Irel saw Varkan, still slumped on the ground. He was bloodied and exhausted, but his eyes remained sharp and fierce.

“Irel!” he shouted.

Varkan’s gaze, unfocused from the bright light, wavered as he strained to see Irel. Though his vision was hazy, he could sense her familiar presence, and he knew she was trying to help him.

‘Damn it… I have to get up…’

He tried to summon his strength again, but each attempt only worsened his condition. It felt like something inside was clamping down on his heart, causing his energy to violently surge back through his body.

Was this what it felt like to have Sevring work in reverse? For someone as powerful as Varkan, it was devastating. He gasped for breath, wiping the blood that had soaked his chin and neck with the back of his hand. The liquid from Drakal’s vial was definitely the cause, but it was a type of attack he had never experienced before, leaving him helpless.

“Get away!!”

At that moment, Drakal, recovering his strength, instinctively shoved Irel aside.

“Ahhh!”

With a powerful push, Irel tumbled across the rough ground, rolling several times before coming to a stop. Her delicate skin, prone to bruising, was scraped raw on the jagged rocks as she lay crumpled on the stone floor.

Varkan’s vision turned red with rage. He didn’t care if his heart exploded—he just wanted to kill Drakal right then and there.

But just as he prepared to unleash his power, a weak voice stopped him.

“I’ll handle this,” Erich said, scarcely conscious. Pale and weakened from blood loss, he struggled to focus on Drakal. With effort, he directed his energy toward the ground beneath Drakal’s feet.

“Aaagh!!”

Drakal, who had been glaring at Irel, was suddenly caught off guard as a wall of earth shot up beneath him. He crashed against it, hitting his chin hard, and fell backward, momentarily disoriented.

Erich seized the moment. With a flick of his hand, the wall collapsed on top of Drakal, burying him in rocks and dirt.

“Urgh!”

The wall wasn’t thick, but the fact that they were on a rocky mountainside worked in their favor. Erich’s makeshift wall absorbed the terrain’s properties, and as it came crashing down, it rained stones and gravel over Drakal, pummeling him. A rock the size of a fist struck Drakal squarely on the forehead, knocking him unconscious.

As Drakal lost consciousness, the light pillars he had summoned slowly dissipated. Varkan, drenched in sweat, staggered to his feet. Though the ordeal had only lasted a short time, the intense light had drained his body of moisture, leaving his skin covered in minor burns.

It was fortunate that Varkan had a natural resistance to fire and heat; otherwise, another Masaka would have been scorched black.

“Kuh…”

As he stood, a wave of dizziness hit him, and his vision swam. His skin burned painfully, as if raw and exposed, but Varkan shook his head to clear the fog and forced himself to move. Despite the pain and fatigue, his stubborn feet carried him toward Irel.

“Rel…”

With unsteady hands, Varkan gently lifted her upper body into his arms, his dry, cracked lips moving as he spoke her name. Fortunately, she didn’t seem seriously hurt. She had been using her Sevring ability when Drakal threw her, causing her to temporarily lose consciousness.

Still, the scratch on her pale cheek stung his heart. He wanted to brush away the dirt that had smeared across her face, but his own body was still burning with residual heat. He feared he might burn her delicate skin if he touched her.

So instead, Varkan drew her closer to him, holding her protectively in his arms, as he scanned their surroundings.

Drakal and Lieutenant Harty were both unconscious, likely for good this time. Erich, keeping a watchful eye on them, ensured they wouldn’t be caught off guard again. But Erich, too, looked pale and weak, the dagger wound in his side still bleeding profusely. His condition was worsening.

Meanwhile, the battle between the Western soldiers and the barbarians continued to rage. To bring it to an end, overwhelming force was needed, but Varkan had yet to recover. Though he was still moving through sheer willpower, it felt as if thousands of needles were coursing through his veins, causing him immense pain.

‘That liquid…’

His gaze flickered to the shattered glass fragments scattered across the ground. A substance that could neutralize a Masaka’s power—he had never heard of such a thing before.

‘That must have been what killed Seraphine.’

He regretted breaking the bottle; had he kept it intact, they could have analyzed the residue. Still, capturing Drakal alive would yield some answers. They could interrogate him for information.

“Captain!”

Just then, Yan Louis’s voice rang out from above, delivering a welcome report.

“I brought reinforcements!”

At the same moment, Phaesus appeared, leading a battalion of soldiers like a puppet master commanding his forces.

“Are you alright?” Phaesus asked, his eyes wide with concern at the sight of Varkan in such a dire state. Despite having served under Varkan for years, he had never seen him in such poor condition.

“No, I’m not,” Varkan replied, his usual bravado tempered by the pain. But as soon as he saw the arrival of his trusted men, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he finally allowed himself to relax, releasing the tension in his shoulders.

“Get revenge for me,” Varkan said with a grin, before turning away from the battlefield as if he no longer cared. His focus shifted entirely to Irel, whom he carefully cradled in his trembling arms.

“Mmm…”

Irel stirred, her eyelashes fluttering as the heat of Varkan’s embrace brought her back to consciousness. Slowly, her soft eyelids lifted, and her groggy, blue eyes traced the lines of his face.

“Varkan…”

For a moment, she seemed confused, struggling to make sense of the situation. But then, her expression clouded as memories of what had happened before she lost consciousness returned.

“It’s all fine now,” Varkan tried to reassure her, his voice gentle, hoping to calm her fears.

Just as he was about to tell her not to worry, Irel reached out and grasped his arm. He thought perhaps she was feeling unsettled, but even in her dazed state, she was trying to use her Sevring ability on him.

“Are you in pain?” she whispered softly, her voice filled with tender concern.

For a moment, Varkan was speechless, his throat tightening. The warmth of her voice and her gentle care overwhelmed him, cutting through the agony that had been consuming him.