The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character-Chapter 123 - 125

Edwin clenched his teeth, gasping as the skeletal hands tightened their grip around him. The malice emanating from the dark magic felt suffocating, but Edwin's expression remained cold and focused. His pride would not allow him to show weakness, no matter how dire the situation.

A faint crackle echoed in the air as his body began to hum with energy. Sparks of lightning flickered around his skin, growing brighter with each second.

"You think you can hold me?" Edwin muttered, his voice steady and defiant.

Mareti's grotesque face twisted with amusement. "What's this? Do you still think you can escape? You're nothing but a rat caught in my trap!"

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Edwin ignored the taunts. The lightning now coiled around him like living serpents, the energy surging through his veins. With a sharp inhale, he closed his eyes, and his body erupted in a blinding flash.

CRACK!

The skeletal hands disintegrated instantly, their dark energy unable to withstand the sheer force of Edwin's lightning. The ground around him scorched, and the air smelled of ozone. Edwin straightened, his body crackling with residual energy as he fixed Mareti with a sharp glare.

"That's enough of your games," Edwin said coldly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

Mareti's grin faltered for a moment before twisting into a crazed laugh. "You're impressive, boy! But let's see how long that arrogance lasts."

...

The fight raged on, each clash of power pushing Edwin closer to his limits. Mareti's spells came in rapid succession—bolts of shadow, walls of bone, and swirling clouds of decay. Edwin dodged and countered with precision, his movements fluid and calculated despite the pain radiating from his battered feet.

"You're quick," Mareti sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "But speed alone won't save you!"

Edwin darted around him, searching for an opening. His instincts told him Mareti was planning something, but he couldn't pin down the source of his unease. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a faint shimmer in the air, almost imperceptible.

'A barrier? No… something worse.'

Before he could react, the ground beneath him erupted. A surge of dark energy exploded upward, sending shards of bone flying in all directions. Edwin leaped back, but his footing slipped as the terrain shifted under Mareti's control.

"Got you!" Mareti screamed, his eyes wild with glee.

A skeletal hand shot out from the ground, grabbing Edwin's ankle and yanking him off balance. As he stumbled, Mareti raised his staff, chanting an incantation with manic fervor.

"Curse of Withering!"

A black bolt shot from the tip of Mareti's staff, striking Edwin's thigh. The curse burned through his flesh like molten fire, spreading veins of darkness through his leg.

Edwin's body jerked, but his face remained impassive. Not a single flinch or groan escaped him. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked onto Mareti.

"Is that all?" Edwin said, his voice cold despite the pain coursing through him.

Mareti's face contorted in rage. "You insolent brat! How dare you mock me!"

Edwin struggled to move, his cursed leg dragging behind him. But his resolve never faltered. Each step he took was deliberate, every motion a testament to his willpower.

Mareti screamed, slamming his staff into the ground. "You won't take another step!"

The earth split open, and dozens of skeletal hands erupted, clawing at Edwin from all sides. They wrapped around his arms, his legs, and his torso, dragging him down despite his resistance.

Edwin's body was pinned, the dark magic pressing down on him like an iron weight. But even as the hands constricted, his expression remained calm, his pride unyielding.

"You'll never break me," Edwin said, his voice a low growl.

Mareti leaned in, his hideous face inches from Edwin's. His grin was twisted, his yellowed teeth glinting in the dim light. "Oh, but I don't need to break you," he hissed. "I just need you to stay still while I take everything."

Lightning flickered around Edwin's body again, faint but growing stronger. His eyes narrowed, cold and determined. "Let's see who takes who."

As Mareti decided to end Edwin with the next of his spell, a sudden danger emerged making his skin tingle in goosebumps making him move as he reacted out of sheer instincts and willpower.

"WHOO?"

Martin spoke looking around searching for the culprit behind this.

Lukas stepped out of the shadows, his figure emerging silently like a wraith. His cold, piercing gaze locked onto Mareti, who loomed over the bound and bloodied Edwin while hiding in the shadows.

"It seems I became paranoid and thought someone came to save you alas it seems you are gonna die alone."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

Edwin hearing the laughter spat and looked at Mareti looking down upon him as if he didn't worth anything.

Mareti's grotesque laughter echoed in the darkness, dripping with malicious glee. Edwin, though battered and in chains, still held his head high, refusing to show weakness. His pride burned fiercely, a stark contrast to his broken state—a defiance that made him unbreakable in spirit.

Mareti raised his staff, a twisted grin splitting his distorted face. "Valcrest bloodline… the God of Storms' legacy. Your sacrifice will bring me power beyond imagination, boy. This is your end."

Lukas watched in silence, disgust flickering in his eyes. The arrogance of those who believed themselves on the cusp of godhood was always the same—pathetic, desperate, and hollow.

As Mareti prepared to unleash his spell, Lukas moved. With a flick of his wrist, he sent his blade soaring through the air. The weapon sliced the silence, its trajectory precise.

TANG!

A metallic clicking sound in the atmosphere making Edwin raise his eyes as he saw a figure leaping out of the shadow and sneaking attack on Mareti.

The blade struck the magical barrier Mareti had conjured, the impact reverberating like a warning bell. Mareti's head snapped toward the source of the attack, his expression contorting in confusion as the blade spun upward shooting up in the air only to clatter behind him.

Then, Lukas stepped forward, his movements fluid and deliberate. From the veil of darkness, his hand emerged to reclaim the fallen blade. With his other hand, he drew a second weapon. Without hesitation, he struck, his blades slashing in a zigzag pattern that tore through Mareti's form.

But it wasn't Mareti.

His figure splintered into shadows and reformed several meters away.

What Lukas stuck was just a shadow clone making him grumble.

"You!" Mareti spat, his voice trembling with shock and fury as his gaze landed on Lukas.

Lukas met his glare with an icy smirk, his expression unchanging. The faint light illuminated his face, revealing cold, unfeeling eyes that seemed to pierce through Mareti's very being. His presence was unnerving, like that of a predator closing in on its prey. Mareti's bravado faltered, and for a brief moment, fear flickered in his crazed eyes.

"Another pest," Mareti hissed, though his voice wavered.

Lukas tilted his head slightly, his voice low and mocking. "Weird, isn't it? Hearing yourself describe what you are. Filthy, desperate, and insignificant. The only pest here is you."

Mareti's face twisted in fury, his boiling rage driving him to madness. "You insolent brat!"

With a furious roar, he unleashed his magic. Glowing circles materialized in the air, intricate and pulsing with malevolent energy. Dark arrows, tendrils of decay, and waves of suffocating curses erupted from the circles, each one aimed directly at Lukas.

The air grew oppressive, heavy with the weight of Mareti's unleashed power. The curses coalesced into a miasma of raw destruction, choking the battlefield.

BOOM!

The explosion shook the ground, a dense cloud of smoke billowing outward. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the crackle of residual magic. Mareti's lips curled into a triumphant sneer.

"Foolish boy," he muttered under his breath.

But as the smoke began to dissipate, his expression shifted to one of disbelief. Lukas emerged from the haze, unscathed. His sharp, unwavering gaze locked onto Mareti, his presence more menacing than before.

"What… how?!" Mareti stammered, his voice cracking with panic.

Lukas didn't respond immediately. Instead, he twirled his blade, the edge gleaming faintly in the dim light. His voice, when it came, was as cold as the chill that now permeated the air. "Was that supposed to impress me? Or were you hoping it would at least slow me down?"

Mareti's face twisted further, veins bulging in frustration as he gripped his staff tightly. "You… you think you're untouchable?!"

"I don't think," Lukas replied, his tone razor-sharp. "I know."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lukas caught sight of Edwin, still struggling against the skeletal hands that bound him. Blood pooled beneath him, but his expression remained resolute. Despite the pain and his dire situation, Edwin's pride remained unbroken.

Mareti's attention snapped back to Lukas, his frustration boiling over into unrestrained madness. "You'll regret underestimating me!" he bellowed, his voice cracking under the strain.

A faint smirk tugged at Lukas's lips. His voice dropped to a low, menacing whisper. "No, Mareti. The only one who'll regret this is you."