Catgirls And Dungeons
Chapter 233: Defeat

Chapter 233: Defeat

Blood.

So much blood.

It soaked the ground beneath her, staining the floor in thick, dark pools. Ereskia’s back was torn open, a brutal, ragged wound stretching from the base of her neck all the way down to her lower spine in five long, savage gashes carved by Lucian’s clawed gauntlet. Flesh shredded. Skin ripped apart. Muscles exposed to the open air.

Black lightning still crackled faintly from the wounds, its lingering energy burning her from the inside out. Smoke curled up from her scorched skin, filling the air with the acrid stench of charred flesh.

"SISTER!!!"

Larpard’s voice tore through the chamber, raw and broken. Horror twisted his features as he watched the nightmare unfold before him.

But there was nothing he could do.

His body refused to move, crumpled where he’d fallen. His two mana rings were all shattered, and he himself was barely holding his life together. He couldn’t even crawl. Couldn’t scream loud enough to change anything.

He was powerless.

Helpless.

And in the center of it all, Sheol clattered to the floor, the divine weapon slipping from Ereskia’s fingers, its glow fading, its opened eyes closing slowly.

In the end... even with a god-forged blade in hand...

She still lost.

Lucian stood tall above her broken form, shoulders rising with each triumphant breath, madness gleaming in his eyes. And then, he threw his head back and laughed.

A cruel, vicious laugh that echoed through the chamber like a death knell.

"HAHAHA! This is what you get!" he roared, eyes burning with sadistic joy.

"This is what happens when you defy me. WHEN YOU DEFY US!"

He spat the words like venom. His voice boomed with righteous cruelty.

"You... your father... all your struggles, your pride, your hope—nothing! You are all just insects beneath the feet of our gods!"

And then, with a snarl—

BAM!

His armored boot slammed into her face.

Her head snapped sideways from the impact. Her body rolled across the ground like a broken doll, limp and unmoving. Blood trailed behind her in wide, smearing arcs.

She didn’t scream.

Didn’t resist.

Because she couldn’t.

She was too broken now, probably couldn’t even raise a hand now.

Pain screamed through every nerve, but it felt distant now, fading.

Her vision blurred.

Sheol lay just out of reach, dark and still.

Meanwhile, her thoughts grew slow... heavy...

And then—

Her eyes began to close.

_______________________

From his stance above her broken form, Lucian looked down at Ereskia, the flames of battle slowly dimming in his eyes, replaced now by something else.

Pity.

He sighed, crouching down beside her, leveling his gaze with hers.

"You know..." he said softly, almost with genuine sorrow, "for a moment, I truly thought of you and Larpard as my own children."

His voice cracked faintly, just for a second. Then it hardened again.

"It pains me to do this. Truly. But don’t you dare blame me, Ereskia.

You betrayed me.

I was the one who opened your eyes. I gave you a new life, purpose, strength. I raised you. I believed in you!

And yet you refused to see. You clung to those naïve, worthless ideals like they meant something! You chose weakness!"

And then, he closed his eyes and drew in a long breath.

"Haahhh... So be it."

Lucian stood back up and exhaled a weary sigh. "This is how it ends, then. Rejoice, Ereskia. At the very least, I’ll spare you and your dear little brother from facing the wrath of the gods themselves. When they descend upon this world... at least you’ll already be dead."

With those cold, final words, he turned toward Sheol, still lying beside her in the dust.

His fingers curled around its hilt.

He lifted it.

The Sword of the End.

Lucian straightened, holding the blade up into the dim light. His eyes gleamed.

"Ahhh... finally..." he breathed, voice trembling with exhilaration. "At last, it’s mine."

He stared at the weapon for a long moment, as if savoring every inch of it, every groove and rune carved into its obsidian edge.

But then—

Something shifted.

His brow furrowed.

"...What?"

Lucian’s expression twisted into confusion.

The sword, it was definitely Sheol. It looked the same. The shape, the weight, the eerie black metal. It had to be.

But the aura... that overwhelming, apocalyptic energy it had just moments ago...

Was gone.

There was no pulse of darkness, no destructive energy, no oppressive aura crushing the air.

Just a sword.

His hand trembled slightly.

"...Why?" Lucian muttered, brows narrowing. "What’s happening...?"

...

"Bind," Ereskia whispered, one trembling finger twitched.

"Chains of Darkness."

WOOOSHH!!

In an instant, the blade in Lucian’s hand twisted, its dark steel warping like liquid shadow! From within it, coils of black chains burst out, slithering like vipers across his arm, then his chest, wrapping, locking, seizing every limb.

Lucian froze in shock.

It wasn’t Sheol.

It was a fake, a decoy forged from Ereskia’s magic!

"WHAT—?"

Chains tightened with a metallic snap, anchoring him in place like a condemned prisoner. His arms jerked, muscles bulging, magic flaring violently as he struggled against the bindings.

At his level, S-rank nearing SS, he would only need two seconds, maybe less, to tear free.

But to Ereskia...

That was more than enough.

From the ground where she lay, blood pooling beneath her, her eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Hey..." her voice rasped, lips cracked, yet defiant.

"Looking for this?"

And there it was, Sheol, the real Sheol, materializing again in her ruined hand.

Her fingers wrapped around its hilt like it was fate itself.

Her bones screamed. Her flesh barely obeyed. Pain surged through every nerve. But still, she rose.

Her legs shook. Her vision blurred. Her lungs burned with every breath.

But she moved, quickly, like lightning.

One last time.

The sword ignited, crackling with a deep, ancient power, its twin eyes wide open now, glowing like dying stars. The blade surged with furious black aura, swallowing the air in darkness.

Lucian’s eyes widened in horror.

"WHAT?! NO—IMPOSSIBLE!!!"

His voice cracked.

He thrashed.

He screamed.

But the chains held.

And Ereskia, even broken, even on the brink of death, raised Sheol high.

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