CHAPTER 23: LIFE OR DEATH: FIGHTING FOR SURVIVAL

Even Beelzebub squealed as the pressure pressed down on us, a suffocating weight that made my chest tighten. "Hunt for me," I whispered, stroking his soft fur, "Take Elira with you and slay as many beasts as you can. Please, Beelzebub. Don’t look back, don’t come here." I kissed the top of his tiny head before nudging him with my finger. He clung for a heartbeat, reluctant, unwilling to leave me, but in the end he gave in and darted off into the smoke.

Elira’s confused eyes lingered on me. They asked questions she didn’t voice, questions that screamed louder than words: Why? She’s human too. She’s the heroine. I couldn’t give her an answer. Not now.

The wind shifted, carrying Hera’s scent across the burning street, sharp and metallic. Her blade glistened in the haze, blood trailing down its edge like the petals of a blooming rose. The sky itself seemed to bleed cream and smoke as she rumbled forward.

"You! You’re alive after all!" Her voice cracked against me like a whip.

I exhaled slowly, welcoming the sting of her words with nothing but a sigh.

"Hello, heroine Hera... Hope you’ve been well... because I missed you so much." Mockery dripped from every syllable, my voice soaked in sarcasm. My back still burned with the memory of her blade tearing my wings away. I didn’t even know if they would ever grow back, and all of it was her fault.

The air split with a roar as she came crashing down from the sky. I slipped sideways just in time, rubble exploding around us, dust choking the streets in a violent storm.

Her golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, her whole frame radiating the aura of a warrior, yet still carrying the beauty of a blooming flower. My eyes locked on her blade as it lifted from the rubble, her body twisting with feline grace. The sword carved a vicious arc, splitting the air in a horizontal slash that made my eyes widen.

A shiver shot down my legs, nerves screaming to leap, and I obeyed in the nick of time, vaulting upward just as the cold edge tore through the space where I had stood.

"You’re wide open!" Her voice split the air. For a heartbeat I didn’t even grasp what happened before my instinct screamed. I barely had a second to raise my scalpel, bracing it in front of me, before her sword coiled mid-swing like a serpent hunting an eagle.

She leapt, twisting her body in ways that defied reason, her blade sliding past my guard. The impact crashed into me, pain lancing through my wrist and arm. It was like being rammed by a bull. The sheer weight behind her strike nearly shattered me.

Air blasted out of my lungs as my back slammed into stone, the ground splintering beneath me. My vision blurred, but the gleam of steel above snapped me back. A flash of light, her blade descending. I rolled, body sluggish, but just in time... The sword speared into the ground where I had been.

"Piss off!" My fingers snapped, acupuncture needles streaking toward her back, sharp and merciless, aimed right at her spine. You’re mine.

But before they struck, a blur of liquid blue burst across the air. The impact was like a wave smashing stone, scattering my needles mid-flight. They spun out of control, stripped from my will.

Shit! Reinforcements... Her lackeys had arrived.

The black-haired woman stepped out of the fire, and with every step, the flames on the buildings shrank away, vanishing into ash.

"Big sister Hera, are you alright?" Her voice cracked, thick with worry, as she hurried to the heroine’s side.

But Hera’s expression twisted, her jaw tight, voice snapping like a whip. "Sofia. Who said you could interfere with my fight?"

Her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her blade, the edge trembling with restrained fury. Yet her sapphire eyes never left me.

I seized that second of discord, pulling my scattered needles back, the steel swirling in sharp arcs around me. Blood trickled down my lips; I wiped it away with the back of my hand and steadied my breath. My gaze sharpened, tracing every line of Hera’s stance, searching for the smallest flaw in her defenses.

Sofia flinched at Hera’s words but didn’t retreat. Instead, her lips curved into a trembling smile, as if even Hera’s anger was a blessing she craved. "Forgive me, sister... I only wanted to protect you," she whispered, lowering her head, but her eyes slid toward me, sharp as daggers.

Curse me all you want; one day I’ll take your life if our paths cross again. I almost laughed, the sound bitter and short, but the clock’s hungry tick was a cold bucket of water that drowned my arrogance.

Hera stepped forward without bothering to check if Sofia stayed behind. Her blade snapped up, aiming straight for my neck; I twisted out of the arc, my scalpel skimming the steel. If my weapon had been forged of metal instead of blood, sparks would have flown.

Our faces hovered close, almost touching. For the first time, I didn’t see a killer in her eyes. There was only a worn sadness, like someone who’d learned to kill and hated herself for it.

Her blade pressed harder, the edge whispering against my skin. My eyes locked on her face, then slipped lower, past her guard, past the armor.

There, just beneath her left shoulder plate, the slightest tremor revealed her secret. Her breathing was uneven, too shallow, too quick. I’d seen it before, in patients who’d taken blows to the ribs. A fractured bone pressing close to the lung. If I cut there, even a heroine would falter.

The doctor in me screamed: she’s wounded. The fighter in me whispered: stake it all. My back burned where she’d taken my wings, and my fingers twitched, my needles floating like shadows. I readied myself to carve straight into that weakness.

But her sapphire eyes flared brighter, as if she’d realized exactly what I had seen. She pulled back in one fluid motion, blade raised, and the air between us thickened with killing intent. This would be our final showdown.