Chapter 162: God of Thunder
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At the same time, in a garage on the western side of Silver Moon, Corvina was sitting beside a black motorcycle, both hands stained with engine oil.
She had just removed part of the engine, yet her thoughts kept drifting to the three books in the metal cabinet nearby.
A conversation guide, a basic cooking guide, and a romance novel had all been carefully stored there since the day she bought them, hoping she could learn how to talk more naturally when she met Erik.
Unfortunately, she had only read a few pages. There was more work to do than she had expected, and none of the advice in those books applied to any situation in the garage.
Corvina sighed and was about to continue repairing the motorcycle when one of her underlings shouted.
"BOSS! COME HERE QUICK!"
"What did you break this time?!"
She put down her wrench and walked over to where five subordinates were crowded around a magic screen. They were all wearing their usual biker outfits, but none of them remembered the motorcycles they had been repairing.
"I told you not to watch livestreams while working!"
"But it is Erik, Boss!"
Corvina paused.
"So what? What is strange about a man going on a livestream?"
"He is fighting!"
Corvina shoved aside the two people blocking the screen. At that moment, Erik wrapped his left fist in elemental power and shattered a Dark Mist blade. He spun away from the counterattack, planted his left foot, and continued pressing forward.
As a Titan Succubus, Corvina clearly understood the strength required for strikes like those. She was not distracted by the elemental glow, focusing instead on the way he used his muscles, twisted his waist, and maintained his balance while punching.
"Not bad..." she commented unconsciously.
"Boss just praised him, right?"
"I praised his use of force."
"We did not say you praised anything else!"
Corvina shot them a glare. All five immediately fell silent.
But when the image shifted to the wound on Erik’s right arm, followed by blood beginning to flow from his mouth and ears, Corvina’s expression changed.
She understood that kind of injury well. He was forcing a body that was not strong enough to wield power beyond its limits.
"Do not use it anymore..." she murmured.
One of her underlings heard her but did not dare say a word.
On the screen, Erik once again passed up a strike at the female soldier’s head and redirected it toward the Dark Mist clinging to the back of her neck. His opponent immediately exploited that opening to drive another spike into his side.
"Idiot!" Corvina gritted her teeth.
"Boss, are you scolding Erik?"
"I am scolding the way he keeps getting himself hurt!"
"But he wants to save that woman..."
"I know."
The answer left the whole group stunned.
Corvina watched Erik keep moving forward amid pools of blood and suddenly realized that the ordinary footage from before could never have helped her fully understand this man.
He was gentle but stubborn, reckless enough at times to make people want to beat some sense into him, yet impossible to hate once they understood why he did it.
The wrench still in her hand slipped onto the concrete floor.
Clang!
"Boss?"
Corvina bent down to pick up the tool, then pulled a chair directly in front of the screen.
"Move aside a little. You are blocking the view."
One girl in the group glanced at the person beside her, trying not to laugh.
"Maybe Boss can invite Lord Erik to visit the garage someday?"
"I said do not block the screen!"
No one teased her again. The group continued watching Erik fight, while Corvina unconsciously clenched both hands whenever she saw Dark Mist strike him again.
She wanted to scold him a few more times, but in the end, she only said softly:
"Do not die."
Corvina was used to judging the strong by their muscles and endurance. Yet at that moment, she understood that the most frightening thing about Erik did not lie in the force of his fists. He was using a body clearly unable to endure it to force his opponent back.
Any Titan Succubus would know that was a mad choice. Yet when she saw those unyielding eyes, Corvina could not pull herself away from the screen.
She pulled her chair a little closer. The five underlings exchanged looks, but this time, none of them had any intention of teasing her.
...
At the villa, Felyn was still sitting on the bed beside the window of her new room.
She could not see the screen broadcasting images that had thrown all of Silver Moon into an uproar. Her eyes remained covered beneath clean bandages, long golden hair draped over her shoulders.
Downstairs, the house’s communication device chimed again and again, far more often than usual, but no one came up to explain what had happened.
Felyn pressed her lips together, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of her blanket.
For some reason, she had felt restless since earlier. She had tried lying down to rest and tried listening to the wind by the window, but the unease would not fade.
"Erik..."
She called his name softly, then clasped both hands before her chest. Felyn did not know where he was, much less what had happened during the battle at the outpost. So her prayer was nothing complicated.
Please come home safely.
...
Elsewhere in the city, Saraya stood leaning against a window, gazing toward the distant sky.
She had tried opening the stream everyone was discussing, but the screen only showed a notification that she did not have access. Saraya turned off the device and tried to find something else to do, only to return to the window in the end.
The distant light towers began illuminating one after another, while transport routes that had been quiet suddenly became busy.
Saraya did not know why the entire city seemed to be preparing for something important. She only felt an inexplicable discomfort in her heart.
She looked at her reflection in the glass. There were things she once took for granted, only realizing after losing them that they could not be reclaimed so easily.
Saraya closed the hand resting on the windowsill and continued looking into the distance. She did not know what she was waiting for, nor did she understand why her heart would not settle.
Outside, the newly activated light towers continued shining along the avenues. Inside the rooms where people watched the livestream, no one knew that the man they had just witnessed had reached the final moment of his battle.
...
When the last temporarily stored footage finally caught up to real time, everyone watching saw the black woman separate from the host body.
Her long silver-white hair intertwined with tentacles, while her glossy black face bore only a blazing red cross that flickered on and off.
The freed female soldier lay unconscious behind the stone slab, while Erik still stood amid the cracked ground, facing the true enemy.
By then, no one could claim that he had attacked an innocent female Succubus by mistake.
[See?! She really was being controlled!]
[Where are the people accusing Erik of putting on an act now?]
[He really saved the host...]
[Even so, pushing himself this far is still far too reckless.]
[You can call it reckless and still worry about him. Do not call him stupid!]
[Anyone who insults him again, meet me at the arena!]
[PLEASE STOP CHALLENGING PEOPLE TO FIGHTS! I AM WORRIED ABOUT HIM!]
The argument had not even reached a conclusion when Erik suddenly lowered his head. The silver-violet lightning that had only run along his arms and legs began bursting from all over his body.
Lightning Element struck the stone floor, spreading the cracks wider. Broken bricks flew up and hovered in the shaking air.
The Dark Mist curling around the guard station entrance was forced back in waves by the pressure, while any tentacles touching the edge of the electric radiance instantly convulsed and dissolved into trails of black smoke.
Two massive currents of lightning gathered behind Erik.
At first, they looked like two chaotic bands of light. Then each stream split into hundreds of smaller branches, connecting into sharp curves.
One lightning feather after another appeared, flickering, fading, and reigniting until they formed a pair of gigantic eagle wings. Silver-violet light spilled across the shattered walls, illuminating Erik’s bloodstained face and cold eyes.
He stood in the storm he had created himself, not raising his chin to show off, merely staring silently at the enemy before him.
That silence made the image even more terrifying.
A deep slash still marked his right arm. The blood at the corner of his mouth and ears had not yet dried. His legs were strained to their limits under the enormous mana.
The viewers understood that he had not suddenly become invincible. On the contrary, he was pouring everything he had left into a choice that perhaps only he dared to make.
Inside the mansion, Mirielle still refused to leave the screen. She had prepared the airship, mobilized the escort force, and opened the priority routes, but at that moment, every order felt distant.
Before her stood a man covered in blood beneath wings of lightning so immense that they nearly covered the entire guard station.
Mirielle had once believed she understood all of Erik’s beauty through his livestreams. Now she realized she had only seen a tiny fraction of it.
The blazing currents of lightning forced the Dark Mist back, while Erik’s eyes remained calm as they faced his opponent, as though he could not hear his own body crying out for help.
Mirielle raised a hand to cover her mouth. She did not faint. She even forgot to cry. Her other hand gently touched the glass screen, stopping at the image of those spreading wings.
The room was so silent that the butler could hear the magic clock ticking on the wall.
"Erik..." she whispered. "Please, you must live."