Chapter 442: White Demon
The air in the tent was thick with tension, Seraphina’s aura still pressing against the canvas walls like a held breath. Her eyes were locked on Celine’s mocking smile.
She didn’t lower her sword.
"Franc." Her voice was calm, but it carried the unmistakable ring of command. "Take the others. Fall back to Melium. Report everything we’ve learned. I want a full account of the demons’ betrayal delivered to the crown."
Franc’s composure cracked, just for a second. His hand, still resting on his sword hilt, trembled with the effort of holding back. "But Commander—"
"That’s an order, Franc."
Bianca’s hands still glowed with the soft golden light of her healing spell, Kloss’s breathing slowly steadying beneath her touch.
"But what about you, Commander? We can’t just leave you here alone!"
Reith stepped forward, his long hair catching the dim light as his hand moved to the hilt of his blade.
"Commander, it would be more tactically sound for us to attack together. We can take them—" He paused, drawing his sword a fraction of an inch. "Are you saying we can’t help?"
Seraphina’s voice cut through the tension in the tent like a whip crack, leaving no space for hesitation.
"Listen to me. We’re in enemy territory now. If we all stay, none of us are getting out alive. The demons’ betrayal needs to reach the king’s ears—so someone has to live to deliver that message. That’s an order. Fall back, and report everything to Melium."
The weight of her words pressed down on them. Franc’s fist clenched at his side, his knuckles white. His internal voice was a bitter, frustrated murmur.
’She’s right... we don’t have a chance against a force this large. And Celine is no ordinary commander—they call her the White Demon for a reason. Fighting her head-on would be suicide.’
He lifted his gaze to meet Seraphina’s.
"Commander... do you trust me to carry out your orders?"
"I trust you to do what’s right, Franc. That’s why I’m giving you this duty."
Reith’s gaze snapped to Franc, his voice sharp with disbelief.
"You’re really going to abandon her?! We’re knights! This isn’t how we—"
Franc’s voice cut through, raw and strained.
"This is an order, Reith. We can’t disobey."
The soldier who had been listening from the corner finally spoke, his voice low and heavy.
"There’s no point in arguing. We’re only making this worse. If the Commander wants us to go, we go."
Celine let out a soft, mocking laugh, her hand pressing against her chest in a theatrical gesture of affected emotion.
"Huhu... how touching. I’m almost moved to tears." She glanced around the tent, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "Someone fetch me a cloth, would you?"
Seraphina’s grip tightened on her sword hilt, her knuckles white.
"You’re enjoying this?" She asked.
Celine’s smile widened, her violet eyes gleaming with amusement as she folded her arms.
"Enjoying it? My dear knight, I’m savoring it. Watching you struggle to maintain your composure while your subordinates weigh their loyalty against their survival—it’s truly a rare privilege."
She let the silence hang for a moment, then stepped closer, her voice dropping to a silken murmur.
"But please, do continue. I find your little displays of defiance... charming."
The tension in the tent snapped like a bowstring pulled too tight.
Reith’s face contorted with fury, his hand already closing around his sword hilt. "Bastard—!"
He lunged forward, blade half-drawn, but Franc’s arm shot out, catching him across the chest and shoving him back.
"Reith, stop!" Franc’s voice was sharp, desperate. "You’re not strong enough to fight her!"
Reith thrashed against Franc’s grip, his eyes blazing with defiance. "Let me go, Franc! I won’t let her mock us like this—!"
Celine watched the struggle with open amusement, her head tilted, her smile widening. "Oh, how entertaining. The little knight wants to play hero."
Then the air shifted.
Seraphina’s blade swept upward, golden light erupting along its edge as she brought it down in a devastating arc aimed at Celine’s left side. The strike was precise and fast, a blade of pure concentrated will.
Celine’s eyes widened. She leaped back, the golden edge carving through the space where she had been standing, and the tent behind her exploded.
The entire structure collapsed inward, revealing the cold, open air and the gathered demon soldiers beyond.
Seraphina stood in the center of the wreckage, her blade still blazing, her voice ringing out like a battle cry.
"I’ll clear a path so run, and don’t look back."
Reith opened his mouth to protest, but Celine’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and absolute.
"Don’t bother. I won’t let that happen."
She raised her hand, and crimson light bloomed in her palm. A blade materialized in her grip—dark, slick, pulsing with a deep, blood-red glow threaded through with veins of abyssal black. It seemed to drink the light around it.
The White Demon’s sword.
And her smile, when it came, was a predator’s.
Celine’s aura flared to life, cold and razor-sharp, pressing against Seraphina’s golden light like a blade testing the edge of a shield.
"I will not let a single human leave this place alive." She said.
Seraphina raised her sword, the golden light along its edge blazing brighter. Her voice rang out, steady and unyielding.
"Don’t be intimidated. I will protect your backs. So run—run as fast as you can."
Her body became a streak of gold and steel, her one arm driving the blade forward with practiced precision. Her swordplay was fluid, relentless—each strike flowing into the next, a dance of pure, disciplined will. Even with only one arm, she moved like she had never lost it.
Celine’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine interest passing through them. "Impressive."
Then her gaze shifted to her subordinates, her voice sharp and commanding.
"Attack. Don’t let them escape."
The demon soldiers surged forward.
Seraphina met them head-on.
Her blade carved through the first wave, golden light tearing through armor and flesh. She spun, deflected a spear, drove her shoulder into a second soldier, and cut down a third before they could surround her. The path was opening—a narrow, blood-soaked corridor leading toward the edge of the camp.
"NOW!" Seraphina’s voice roared over the chaos.