Jaenor was standing over Delia, and she looked towards Cornelia as if asking her to help, but she wasn’t moving. Ember was feeling the pressure as she was going to be the next, she knew.

Delia’s eyes widened in terror as she saw death approaching in his burning gaze.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I was only following orders. I didn’t want to—”

“Lies,” Jaenor said simply.

People get desperate when they are at the short end of the stick. She was grinning like a maniac when Jaenor was chained up, but now that she was in a helpless state, she was begging him to leave her.

He reached down with his free hand, and crimson energy began to flow from his fingertips like liquid fire.

When it touched Delia’s skin, she screamed.

The Origin power ate through her flesh like acid, consuming her from within. Her red hair turned white, then fell out in clumps. Her young face aged decades in seconds as the life force was drained from her body.

The other witches pressed themselves against the walls, watching in horror as their sister died slowly and painfully. Some tried to look away but found they could not tear their eyes from the terrible sight.

When it was over, nothing remained of Delia but dust and empty robes.

Ember backed away, shaking her head frantically. “No, no, please! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything you want! I’ll serve you, I’ll—”

But Jaenor was already moving toward her, his ethereal wings spreading wide behind him like the shadow of death itself. Ember raised her hands, trying to call upon her power, trying to summon the flames that had always been her strength.

Nothing happened.

The Origin energy radiating from Jaenor was so intense that it smothered her lesser abilities like water poured on a candle flame. She was helpless before him, as helpless as he had been when chained in the dungeon.

“You enjoyed it,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute judgment. “You smiled when I screamed. You laughed when I begged.”

Ember cried, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t know better! Please, give me a chance to make it right!”

Jaenor’s response was swift and merciless.

His hand pierced through her chest like a blade made of pure energy, emerging from her back in a shower of crimson light. Ember’s mouth opened in a soundless scream, her eyes wide with shock and pain.

For a moment, she hung suspended on his arm like a broken doll. Then the Origin power began to consume her as it had consumed Delia, turning her body to ash and memory.

Two piles of dust marked where his torturers had once stood.

Throughout it all, Cornelia had watched with an expression that shifted and changed like shadows on water.

There was horror there, yes, but also fascination. Fear mixed with something that might have been admiration. She had seen power before and had wielded it herself, but nothing quite like this raw display of Origin energy unleashed without mercy or restraint.

Jaenor turned slowly, his burning gaze sweeping across the great hall until it found her.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other—the Origin Bearer floating in his terrible glory and the woman who had ordered his imprisonment.

But before either could speak, another presence made itself known.

Saphyra, the Siren Queen, stepped forward with a smile that was both beautiful and deadly. Her oceanic eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light as she looked upon Jaenor’s transformed state.

Unlike the others, she showed no fear, only a growing delight that made the temperature in the room seem to rise.

“Magnificent,” she purred, her voice carrying undertones that seemed to resonate in the very bones of those who heard it. “Absolutely magnificent.”

She began to move closer, her water-silk dress flowing around her like liquid moonlight.

With each step, waves of enchantment rolled off her, ancient siren charms designed to ensnare the minds of men and bend them to her will. Her beauty became more intense, more compelling, until it was almost painful to look directly at her.

Her charm washed over Jaenor like a tide, seeking to find purchase in his mind and heart.

Just then, the great doors burst open with a crash that echoed through the hall.

Earl Grimwald came charging through, no longer bothering to maintain his human disguise. His frog-like features were twisted with rage and desperation as he pointed one webbed finger at Jaenor.

“You!” he croaked, his voice cracking with emotion.

“You stole it! The Origin Stone has been in my family for three hundred years! It was our sacred trust, our most precious—”

His words were cut off as Odessa casually flicked her wrist.

A wave of force, cold and inexorable as an avalanche, picked up the Earl and hurled him across the hall. His massive frame was lifted off the ground like he was just a pebble.

He struck the stone wall with a wet smack and slid to the floor, groaning but still alive.

“Tiresome creature,” Odessa said with mild distaste.

Now there were four of them standing in the ruined hall, four beings of power facing each other in the aftermath of violence.

The air itself seemed to crackle with tension as their energies pushed against one another.

Cornelia was the first to move.

Red shadows began to seep from her skin like blood from invisible wounds, pooling around her feet before rising up to swirl around her body. The darkness moved with a life of its own, forming shapes that looked almost like grasping hands or hungry mouths.

“Jaenor,” she said, her voice now carrying an authority that had not been there before.

“Do you truly understand what you have become? You are not just powerful now—you are a beacon. The Origin power that flows through you burns bright enough to be seen from across the world.”

The red shadows around her grew thicker, more substantial. They began to take on semi-solid forms, creatures of living darkness that hissed and whispered in languages older than human speech.

“The Witch Council has already felt your awakening,” she continued, her eyes beginning to glow with an inner fire that was neither human nor entirely supernatural.

“They will come for you with armies. They will bring weapons forged in the deep places of the world, artifacts that can chain even Origin power itself. What happened here, what Delia and Ember did to you, will seem like kindness compared to what they will do.”

She stepped forward, her shadow-creatures flowing around her like a living cloak.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way. Let me help you. I know their ways, their weaknesses. Together, we can—”

“You’re kidding me,” Odessa interrupted with a harsh laugh.

The black-haired woman’s amusement was cold and sharp as winter ice.

Dark green energy began to rise from her skin, not like Cornelia’s flowing shadows but like jagged blades of crystallized power. The very air around her started to freeze, frost spreading across the stone floor in intricate patterns.

“Help him?” Odessa continued, her voice dripping with disdain.

“You, who chained him like some prisoner? You, who let your pets torture him for sport? You dare speak of help?”

With a gesture that was both graceful and deadly, Odessa summoned forth her true power. Blades of green energy materialized in the air around her—dozens of them, each one sharp enough to cut through steel, each one humming with lethal intent. They hovered like a cloud of emerald death, waiting for her command.

Cornelia’s response was immediate and violent.

The red shadows exploded outward from her body, taking on the forms of massive beasts with too many teeth and claws like razors.

They lunged toward Odessa with great speed, their forms shifting and changing as they moved, making them nearly impossible to track or predict.

But Odessa was ready.

Her blade-storm met the shadow-beasts head-on, green energy slicing through dark matter in a display that was both beautiful and terrifying. Where her weapons struck, the shadows dissolved with screams that sounded almost human.

The two women began to circle each other like predators, their powers clashing again and again in bursts of light and darkness that lit up the great hall like some hellish fireworks display.

Cornelia moved with grace, her shadows reaching out like grasping fingers to try and ensnare her opponent.

But Odessa was faster, her blades dancing through the air with deadly exactness, cutting apart every attack before it could reach her.

“You think you know power,” Cornelia snarled as she sent a wave of red-black energy toward her enemy.

“But you have no idea what I truly am.”

Odessa’s response was to launch a spinning blade of pure green force that sliced through Cornelia’s attack and continued on toward its target.

The noble woman tried to dodge, but the blade was too fast, too precise.

It took her left arm off at the shoulder.

Cornelia stumbled backward, dark blood spraying from the wound.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep