Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 149: The Last Stand

The tent was quiet, the bright morning light muted through the thick canvas.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

The only sound that filled the air was the soft clinking of armor as each piece found its place with a rhythm known only to those who had done this countless times before.

Maria stood behind Abram, her hands working deftly as she fastened the last of his pauldrons. Her fingers trembled just slightly, but she calmed it, not allowing the anxiety she was feeling to bleed through.

She had to be calm. She had to put a smile on her face. Not just for her husband, but for herself.

She glanced up at the back of his head as Abram broke the silence. "You know," he said, his voice low, "I've said a lot of things and I realize I have a lot more to say."

"You, Maria, were always more than my heart. You were my compass. You still are."

Maria paused. "Don't say that."

He turned slowly to face her. "You are. And not just to me. To our sons. To these people. You're their hope in a way I never could be, even if they don't know that. You're the only thing standing between them and the destruction of everything they've ever known."

"I feel like I've caused more pain than hope." Maria whispered, lowering her eyes.

Abram gently cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. "You're not responsible for what the Dryad became, Maria. You didn't choose this. But you can end it. You must. And that means staying alive. That means not joining in the fighting."

"I know." She nodded faintly. Then shook her head. "I'm scared, Abram. There's something I haven't told you yet."

He stood silent, waiting for her.

"I feel it." She finally whispered. "I feel my death. It's been coming. Closer every day. The Calamity... it's going to break free."

"No." Abram said firmly. He rested his forehead against hers. "That won't happen. I won't let it happen. Not to you. Not to this world. I want you to trust me. Just this once more."

Maria blinked back tears. "Always."

Their lips touched as thet kissed, sharing this tender moment before the last stand.

Then, Maria continued, fastening every piece of armor for her husband, something they'd always done in the past thirty years, before Abram left for the border. It was always their good luck charm.

Whe she was done, she handed the final item to him.

Abram took the sword, Freedom, and fastened it to his side. With that done, it was time to leave.

They walked out of the tent, the camp around them filled with urgency as Knights donned their armor, squires ran messages, and the soldiers said their prayers. In the distance, the sound of the barbarian war drums floated to them.

Abram led Maria to the waiting horse. He grasped her waist and lifted her onto the saddle, settling her sidesaddle. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with emotion. "Stay alive." She whispered.

"Only if you do."

He stepped back as she turned the horse and rode toward the castle. He watched as her form grew smaller and smaller until she disappeared behind the hill.

Abram turned back toward the army. The men and women of House Ross and House Underwood stood ready. Abram climbed a nearby rise to look over them.

It was time.

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On the other side of the translucent barrier, Bellamy sat high upon his dragon, its wings tucked and its massive body radiating heat.

The skies were thick with storm clouds, and the sound of the war drums filled the air.

His army howled, laughed and cheered behind him as they went through their pre battle routine.

He glanced to the side as Kael's dragon lumbered up beside him, the scarred warrior perched on its back.

"It's weird. We haven't seen a single villager for days now." Kael said, his voice a gravelly growl.

Bellamy didn't look at him. "What does that matter to us? We do not need prisoners, Kael. We're here for Maria and when we're done, there won't be anyone left after today to take prisoner."

Kael said nothing more. Behind them, the barbarian army began arranging themselves in lines of controlled chaos. Giant bears pawed the earth, wyverns stretched their wings, shrieking, and the Druids hunched, humming with power as they sniffed the last of their berry powder.

This was it. If they don't get what they want, they will have no other chance to get it anymore.

Bellamy exhaled as he tugged on the reins of his dragon, turning the creature to face his people. They quieted down a bit as he raised his battle axe high above his head.

He spoke, his voice carried across the army. "Brothers! Sisters! Warriors of the Tribe of Three!"

"Today is our final march! Our last breath, our last scream, our last stand! This land has taken much from us. It took our curse. It took out power. It took our goddess. But today, we take it back! We show them what it means to be born of tree and blood!"

The army roared in response, the sound shaking the very trees.

"Let your fury burn brighter than the sky! Let them remember us as the fire that could not be quenched!"

"For Ilyan!"

The howls intensified, and Bellamy swung the axe down.

It was the signal.

Ten wyverns soared into the stormy sky, wings slicing through the clouds. They flew high over the army, each one carrying a glowing barrel in its claws.

As they neared the barrier, the barrels dropped, whistling through the air before impact.

BOOM!

Simultaneously, pillars around the dome exploded. The ground shook violently, dirt and energy surging into the sky.

Ten explosions. Ten holes torn into one huge gap.

That section of the dome shattered with a groan like dying metal, a massive rent torn through it.

The breach was wide, large enough for the entire barbarian horde to charge through.

And so they did.