Mystica: Reincarnated Into A Novel As A Villain With 3x Reward System
Chapter 39: Second World War [02]

Chapter 39: Second World War [02]

Some of the warriors at the battlefield’s edges became terrified when they finally noticed. Some stepped back in fear and screamed. However, those who were driven and unwavering in their resolve sprang forward without hesitation.

The field erupted in clashes.

With a roar, the Nine-Eyed Tyrants sent warriors flying as their enormous limbs swung through the air. A few were crushed right away. Others barely escaped, launching strong blows in retaliation.

Magic flared, blades slashed, and chaos erupted on the battlefield.

A few warriors were hurt and broken when they fell. However, the elite fighters, who were the strongest of them, retaliated with all of their might.

However, the masked figure was invisible in the sky above.

Watching.

Waiting.

Warriors and Tyrants were dispersed throughout the expansive field that was the battlefield. As the enormous creatures tore through their ranks, the once densely populated army was torn apart and split into smaller battles.

The Leader of Dravarnia sliced through the monsters with frightful ease amid the confusion. His blade ripped through their thick hides with every swing, each one a death sentence. He was an unstoppable force of nature and a storm of power.

He was not looking at the Tyrants, though. The masked figure hovering far above the battlefield had their attention.

From the beginning, he had been aware of him.

In a single motion, he launched himself into the air, rising to confront the Velnoctene-black-clad figure.

They stood face to face in the air while the wind howled all around them. Below, the battlefield raged, but here, there was silence.

The Dravarnian Leader’s eyes narrowed.

"...Who are you?"

The figure’s distorted voice echoed through the sky.

"The one who will crusshh you..."

Then, without warning—he lunged.

A strong blow struck the Leader of Dravarnia’s blade, sending shockwaves through the air, and he raised his sword just in time to block. Both figures disappeared in a blur of movement as the sheer force caused the sky to ripple.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

More quickly than the eye could follow, they clashed like thunder. The Leader was behind him, swinging his sword with lethal accuracy, and the Velnoctene figure was above, launching a torrent of kicks.

When raw power met metal, sparks ignited.

SWISH! CRACK! BOOM!

Strong shockwaves from each impact distorted the clouds. Warriors looked up, enthralled by the flashes of light and the booming sounds that tore through the sky, and the battleground below paused for a moment.

The eyes of the Leader of Dravarnia grew piercing. "You’re strong."

The masked figure chuckled. "You haven’t seen anything yet."

WHOOSH!

His cloak billowed like black flames as he spun around and delivered a devastating blow. The Leader barely managed to avoid it. The clouds broke apart as a shockwave exploded through the atmosphere.

The Leader then retaliated, swinging with a gleaming blade.

SLASH!

A sharp sound cut through the chaos. The mask split in two.

As the pieces drifted away in the wind, the Leader of Dravarnia’s eyes widened.

"...Declan Velnoctene."

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The battlefield below faded into the background as recognition flashed in the Leader’s eyes.

He knew this man.

They had met long before Velnoctene was reduced to ashes, long before the first great war. Not as enemies—but as warriors who once stood on the same ground, sharing words of battle and honor.

"So you survived," the Leader muttered, gripping his sword tighter.

Declan wiped the blood from his lips, smirking. "Surprised? I’m not that easy to kill. Darius.."

The Leader’s expression darkened. "I thought you died with the rest of them."

"I almost did," Declan admitted. "But fate had other plans. And now, it’s time to finish what was started long ago."

Then—he muttered something to himself. Dark energy in the words.

Around him, the air twisted strangely. His muscles twisted and his veins throbbed. A monstrous aura erupted from his body, causing the sky itself to appear to bend.

The Darius took a step back, his grip tightening. "You’ve fallen deeper than I thought..."

Declan’s shape started to shift, and his eyes glowed strangely.

Declan felt an overwhelming aura surge around him, causing his body to convulse and twist.

It seemed as though the very essence of his being was changing into something other than human as his flesh turned pale white, almost translucent.

Nine luminous eyes, each emitting a strange, unearthly light, flared across his forehead and face. The skin surrounding them grew and stretched, creating ragged projections resembling the inscriptions of a prehistoric deity.

Then—nine hideous arms sprang from his back.

They were all pulsing with veins of crimson and black energy, crackling with raw power. The very fabric of reality shook under the weight of his metamorphosis, and his mere presence warped the atmosphere.

The Darius staggered back, his breath caught in his throat.

In his lifetime, he had witnessed innumerable horrors. But this?

This was something else entirely.

For the first time in years...

He was speechless.

Mountains Trembled.

The air was distorted by Declan’s rapid movements as he reappeared inches from Darius’s chest.

Then—BOOM!

A devastating kick to the stomach sent Darius hurtling through the air like a meteor. Rock and earth were shattered as he struck the far-off mountains.

Declan watched from mid-air. "Tch... That was too easy."

But deep down, he knew.

The Leader wasn’t done yet.

***

The battlefield, meanwhile, was in disarray.

There were now four more Velnoctenes in the conflict. The battle had grown even more vicious for the warriors, who were already having difficulty defeating the Nine-Eyed Tyrants.

Dareth tore through his enemies like a storm. He killed warriors with unparalleled speed and ruthlessness.

He was not falling, though, Jaxyn.

He battled valiantly, keeping up with Dareth. Spells exploded, fists broke bones, and blades clashed.

Ninety thousand warriors remained in spite of the Velnoctenes’ overwhelming might. The fight was not yet over.

***

Far away... in the cave.

A ritual had already ended. The lifeless body that once lay there... was alive.

Zephyraen Velnoctne, the last of the seven Velnoctene survivors, stood in front of the figure as the faint glow of torches flickered against the cave walls.

The newly revived man’s long hair fell down his back. His breath shook the air, and his presence was strange.

...