The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 69. Advance Team

Chapter 69: 69. Advance Team

Rin stirred woke, her bloodshot pink eyes snapping open to a bone-rattling roar. An orc crashed to the ground, its chest cleaved by a silver sword that burned with radiant mana, blood pooling beneath it.

She’s still laying on the ground, her bruised, blood-streaked body shivering under a warm blanket.

Pain seared her every breath, but her gaze locked on the figure above the orc—Volkhardt, the council president.

His sword dripped red, and his eyes met hers. "Stay put, Miss," he said, voice steady as steel. "Advance team’s moved already. Won’t be long to break this dome."

Volkhardt’s voice softened, a rare warmth breaking his stoic mask. "You got the students to the dome’s edge, kid. You’re a damn hero." Her lips twitched into a weak, triumphant smile, relief flooding her battered frame.

At the Forest’s center.

In a centre of forest at the clearing, three white-robed figures in full-face masks stood around a glyph circle, its glow fading, the air heavy with their summon’s catastrophic failure.

The caster’s voice cracked, barely a whisper. "What... what happened?"

"Valtharion failed," another hissed, his masked eyes wide.

The third, a woman with a chilling, velvet voice, tilted her head, her mask gleaming. "What’s the plan now? Hunt the target ourselves?"

The caster’s laugh was bitter. "Why bother? This is hunting cage. The target’s must took heavy damage by valtharion—monsters willrip him apart soon."

A sly, mocking voice sliced through the gloom. "Oops, guess your trap’s busted!"

The group whirled, staffs flaring, as three figures emerged from the forest’s shadows like avenging specters—Erin, Viola, and Professor Avoor.

Erin, smirked. "Guess you guys are the prey in this hunting cage now."

Avoor, with a mountain of rage, gripped his staff, his voice a thunderous growl. "You scum caused this hell? I’ll kill you all brutally."

Viola, her scythe slung over her shoulder, glinted with frost, her voice cold as a glacier. "Calm down, professor. We need one Alive." Her piercing gaze pinned the group, promising no mercy. "They’ve got secrets to spill."

The caster sneered, his staff igniting with mana. "Who are ypu to capture us?"

Erin’s grin turned feral, her eyes flashing. "Mock? Nah, I’m Death, sweetheart."

The masked woman struck first, her staff unleashing a swarm of ghostly crows, their razor claws could cut the flesh easily.

Viola spun her scythe, frost mana erupting in a freezing wave, turning the crows to glittering ice shards that shattered on the ground. "Pathetic," she said.

The largest guy roared, charging the group, his fist wrapped in roaring fire mana, the punch slamming into Avoor’s mana shield with a deafening BOOM.

The shield held, glowing blue. Avoor’s laugh was savage. "That’s it, you bastard?" He slammed his staff down, unleashing a volley of fiery orbs, each streaking like comets.

The cultist dodged, weaving, but one orb hits his side, his robe igniting, his scream echoing.

He hurled a fireball back, but Avoor deflected it with a flick of his staff, the flames exploding into a nearby tree, wood splintering.

"You’re done!" he roared, summoning a spear of blinding light. It shot forward, piercing the guy’s chest, pinning him to a tree with a crunch.

The man writhed, screaming, then slumped, lifeless, as the spear dissolved, blood pooling beneath him.

The caster broke into a run, panic seizing him, but Viola stomped, ice mana spreading in a glittering wave, freezing his legs to the ground. He shattered the ice, desperate, turning rocks into sharp bullets aimed at Viola.

She spun her scythe, deflecting them in a shower of sparks, and closed the gap in a blink, her scythe gleaming with frost.

The blade slashed across his chest, a red line appears on his chest, and his body split in two, collapsing in a bloody heap.

Viola grimaced, flicking blood from her blade. "Disgusting."

The masked woman lunged, her mana-charged dagger flashing for Viola’s neck. Erin appeared behind her, her hand caught the woman’s wrist with crushing force, the dagger clattering to the dirt.

"Bad girl," Erin growled, twisting the wrist—CRACK—the woman stifling a scream, yanking free. She summoned dark tendrils, whipping out like snakes, but Erin dodges through, her fists covered with fiery mana.

She charged, landing a brutal uppercut to the woman’s chest, the impact sending her staggering.

Rock spikes erupted from the ground, sharp and fast, but Erin dodged, laughing wildly, snapping a spike mid-air and hurling it back, pinning the woman’s cloak to the earth. The woman tore free, her mask falling, revealing a pale, furious face, eyes burning with fear and defiance.

She summoned a spectral blade, slashing wildly. Erin slipped past each swing, taunting, "Come on, try harder!" She grabbed the woman’s arm mid-strike, twisting it back—CRACK—the arm broke, the woman’s scream piercing the clearing.

Erin spun her, slamming a glowing fist into her stomach, blood spraying as the woman doubled over. Erin’s hand shot to her throat, lifting her off the ground, her strength terrifying.

The woman clawed at Erin’s arm, choking. "That’s all?" Erin asked, her eyes cold.

The woman spat blood, a weak dark spark flaring. Erin crushed it with a burst of fiery mana.

"Wrong answer," she said, smashing the woman down. The ground cracked, the woman lying broken, barely breathing, twitching in the dirt.

Erin wiping blood from her hands. "Good thing we need you alive," she said, glancing at Viola. "She’s all yours."

Viola nodded. "Well done."

Avoor, his rage barely contained, glared at the woman. He raised his staff, muttering, "Lichtweiss."

Glowing threads of light snaked from the air, wrapping the woman like glowing chains, binding her tight. She groaned, too weak to fight, trapped in the shimmering web.

A deafening rumble shook the clearing, the dome above fracturing like glass, cracks glowing with blinding white light. It shattered, dissolving, golden sunlight flooding the forest.

Isolde looked up, tears of relief in her eyes. "It’s over," she whispered, clutching Leo.

Vaelem raised his staff, a soft golden glow enveloping Leo, lifting his broken body gently from Isolde’s lap. "We move now," he said.