booktalesy Chapter 108 Great Love Descends
Chapter 108 Great Love Descends
Chapter 108 Great Love Descends
A pinkish-gold light bloomed in the sky above the pass.
The light was not dazzling, but it had a strange penetrating power, as if it could shine into the depths of the soul.
As the light dissipated, a stunningly beautiful woman with an exceptionally slender figure hovered above the demon army.
That is the new form of the epic enhanced version of the bird poet Sylph.
She was 7 feet (2.1 meters) tall, with long, emerald-green hair that reached her knees and flowed like a waterfall in the night breeze.
Each strand of hair shimmers with the glimmer of life, as if it were not hair, but woven from countless tiny threads of light.
What's most eye-catching is the two-tone wings on her back—
The left wing is entirely emerald green, like the freshest leaves in a forest in early spring, each feather brimming with vibrant life. When the wings flutter, a faint fragrance of grass and trees lingers in the air.
The right wing was a deep violet, like the last rays of light before nightfall, profound and mysterious. Faint starlight lingered around the edges of the wings, scattering starlight with each flap of the wings.
When its two-colored wings are spread, its wingspan exceeds thirty feet, resembling two dreamlike clouds under the moonlight.
Sylph's face was breathtakingly beautiful, yet possessed an ethereal, otherworldly quality. Her amber vertical pupils reflected the entire battlefield; her eyes held no murderous intent, no anger, only a profound, almost compassionate tranquility.
She hovered fifty feet in the air, her two-colored wings fluttering slowly, surrounded by a faint pink-gold halo.
Xiu Qi could clearly sense her current state through the contract connection:
[Sylph, the Poet of Birds]
[Type: Summoning Card]
[Level: Two Stars]
[Quality: Epic (Pink)]
【属性：力量9、敏捷10、体质10、智力15、感知12、魅力16】
[Skills: Flight Mastery +6, Chanting +6, Nature's Affinity +6]
[Sensory perception: Real vision 120 feet, Passive perception 14 feet]
【Characteristic: Twin-Winged Guardian】
[Special Effects: Emerald Wings resist physical attacks and accelerate health regeneration; Deep Purple Wings resist mental and magical damage and restore status ailments. When both wings are spread, both effects can be activated simultaneously.]
[Talent: Great Love Poem (2-Star Epic Enhancement)]
[Talent Effect: Awakens the deepest desires within living beings through song, captivating them beyond measure. Simultaneously, the melody intensifies and amplifies all emotions tenfold.]
Epic quality!
16 points in Charisma, 15 points in Intelligence, and 12 points in Perception!
A powerful protective trait, and an epic, indiscriminate attack talent!
A profound and indescribable shock welled up in Xiu Qi's heart.
Is this the power of pink epic cards? No wonder an initial Harpy card was rated as a two-star rare card. It wasn't an underestimation; the system fully recognized its potential!
Just then, Sylph spoke up.
It was not singing, nor chanting, but a soft sigh.
The sigh was as soft as the wind, yet it carried a strange penetrating power, instantly spreading throughout the entire battlefield.
"love is in the air...
'
The sighs contained endless emotions—a longing for life, a yearning for beauty, a pity for war, and a lament for madness.
Then she began to sing softly.
It is not in any known language, but poetry composed of pure emotion and melody.
The voice was eerie yet gentle, ethereal yet profound, as if it came from the depths of an ancient forest, or from the most hidden corner of everyone's soul.
The demon army's charge halted for a moment.
It wasn't that I was blocked or intimidated, but rather that the torrent of emotions contained in the song completely overwhelmed my consciousness.
The first to be affected were the front-line Primal Demons.
These low-level demons, with a challenge level of only 1/8, possessed virtually no mental resistance. When Sylph's song entered their simple minds, these creatures made of sludge suddenly froze.
For the first time, something that could be called "emotion" appeared in their cloudy eyes.
That is a yearning for "purity".
Primal demons are composed of filthy sludge, and they inherently crave purity. In Sylph's song, this instinctive longing is amplified tenfold—
The 2-star epic enhanced version of [Great Love Poem] amplifies the emotional impact of targets with low willpower by an astonishing 10%.
倍！
The first Primal Demon lowered its head, looking at its mud-like hands, and suddenly let out a mournful howl.
It began to frantically scratch its body, trying to tear the filthy sludge off. Black slime splattered everywhere, but it didn't care, as if the sludge was the dirtiest thing in the world.
The second Primal Demon turned to its companion, its murky eyes suddenly erupting with extreme disgust—it loathed the same filth on its companion as it was itself.
The two primal demons fought each other, their mud-like bodies tearing at and devouring one another.
The third primal demon was completely stunned. It stood there, looking up at Sylph in the sky, and black tears streamed from its turbid eyes.
It is reminiscing.
It recalls the pure, carefree state of being when it was still a mass of unconscious filth in the abyss. It yearns for that state and loathes its current self, conscious, desireful, and suffering.
All fifty primal demons collapsed within ten seconds of the song beginning.
A dozen or so began to self-harm, more than twenty attacked each other, and seven became dazed.
The second wave affected those who fear demons.
These lower-level demons, challenge level 1/4, have slightly higher mental resistance than the original demons, but it is still limited.
Sylph's song awakened their deepest, most primal fear—the fear of "purification."
Fearful demons are twisted and filthy creatures, born with a fear of sacred, pure, and orderly forces. In Sylph's vibrant and beautiful songs, this fear is amplified tenfold.
The first demon opened its gaping maw, riddled with pustules, and let out a piercing scream. It wasn't spewing poisonous mist; it was simply unleashing its pure terror.
It began to retreat frantically, knocking over its companions behind it, but it didn't care and only wanted to escape the area enveloped by the song.
The second demon then entered an attack mode—not attacking enemies, but attacking the "sources" that terrified it.
Its poisonous mist no longer aimed at the pass, but shot out haphazardly in all directions. The green poisonous mist enveloped its three companions, and the three cowardly demons screamed and convulsed in the mist, their skin beginning to fester.
They attack everything, including their own people.
The third demon reacted in the most extreme way—it pierced its own throat with its sharp claws.
It felt like death would be better than continuing to listen to this song.
Of the thirty demons, ten were fleeing frantically, fifteen began indiscriminately attacking each other, and five chose to end their own filthy lives.
The third wave consists of lesser demons.
These lower-level demons, challenge level 1/2, already possess considerable intelligence and mental resistance. Sylph's song had a far more complex effect on them.
The song awakened the strongest emotion deep within the little demon's heart—not fear, not disgust, but "jealousy."
Lesser demons are greedy and cunning creatures. They envy all good things, those who are more powerful than them, and those who possess things they do not have.
In Sylph's beautiful, life-filled songs, this jealousy was amplified tenfold.
The first lesser demon raised its head, looking at the beautiful, elegant, and powerful Sylph in the air, its dark red eyes bursting with extreme jealousy.
Why is it so beautiful? Why can it fly? Why can it sing such a song?
Jealousy turns into anger, and anger turns into aggression.
Instead of rushing towards the pass, the little imp began chanting a small fireball spell. Its target was not Sylph, but the other little imps around it who were also looking up at the sky.
"Bang!"
The fireball exploded, blasting its two companions away.
The second lesser demon was jealous of the two thorn demons.
It envied the Thorn Demon's power, its status, and its ability to command it.
So it began to retreat quietly, hiding behind a rock, then drew its simple wooden bow and aimed an arrow at the back of the thorn demon on its right.
It dares not attack openly, but it is very good at using underhanded tactics.
The third lesser demon's object of jealousy was the "living beings" inside the pass.
It envied those creatures for having complete bodies, clear consciousness, and well-coordinated teammates.
So it let out a shriek, brandished its iron fork, and charged toward the pass—not on orders, but in a madness driven purely by jealousy.
Of the twenty lesser demons, ten began to fight amongst themselves, six secretly plotted a rebellion, and four charged madly toward the pass.
Finally, there were two Thorn Demons.
The level 2 elite demons possess intelligence and mental resistance far exceeding those of lower-level demons. Sylph's song affects them not merely with a simple amplification of emotions, but with a deeper "cognitive distortion."
The song awakened the deepest, most hidden resentment within Thorn Demon—not towards his enemies, but towards each other.
The taller and burly Thorn Demon on the left suddenly turned its head to look at its companion on the right, a flash of extreme disgust in its dark red eyes.
It had long disliked this companion.
Every time it commands a battle, the other side always steals its thunder; every time it distributes spoils, the other side always takes the best part; every time it reports to a higher-ranking demon, the other side always takes credit for itself.
These grievances are usually suppressed by reason and common interests, but now, in Sylph's singing, these grievances are amplified tenfold.
"You..." The Thorn Demon on the left hissed, its bone blade pointing at its companion on the right, "I was the one who found that soul crystal first last time, why do you say it's yours?"
The Thorn Demon on the right paused for a moment, then erupted in fury: "Nonsense! That's clearly my spoils! You're always like this, trying to steal everything!"
It had long disliked its companion.
Arrogant, foolish, always making mistakes but never admitting them, always shifting the blame to it whenever something goes wrong.
The two thorn demons stared at each other with their dark red eyes, burning with ever-growing fury.
They forgot the enemy before them, forgot the battle that was taking place, and forgot the demon legion.
At this moment, they only had eyes for each other, and for each other's long-accumulated dissatisfaction and resentment.
"You're the one who always steals my credit!" the Thorn Demon roared from the left.
"You're the one who always shirks responsibility!" the Thorn Demon on the right roared back.
The next second, both Thorn Demons moved simultaneously.
Instead of charging towards the pass, or commanding troops, they pounced on each other!
Bone blades clashed, sparks flying everywhere.
Dark red blood splattered, and the sound of the thorny bone plates breaking was clearly audible.
Two elite demons engaged in a bloody infighting behind the demon army.
The once formidable and well-organized demon army completely collapsed less than thirty seconds after Sylph's song began.
At the same time, deep within the gray forest.
Twenty miles from the pass, there was an open area shrouded in a magical barrier.
The white-robed mage, Guild Master Airon, descended from the sky, and the pegasus spread its pure white wings and landed gently.
Commander Raymond was already waiting, his gray plate armor stained with blood and dirt, his resolute face showing deep exhaustion.
"How's the situation on the outside?" President Elon jumped down from the Pegasus, his movements as light as an old man's.
"It's terrible." Raymond's voice was hoarse. "The 13th Regiment has been completely wiped out."
Airon's snow-white eyebrows furrowed: "What about the eleventh and twelfth regiments?"
"There's still no news." Raymond shook his head. "But the deep purple fireworks rose from the direction of District Thirteen, and the massive demonic tide has spread to the outskirts."
Judging by the speed at which the demonic tide is spreading... it has probably already affected the eleventh and twelfth districts.
The two remained silent for a moment.
A somber atmosphere filled the air.
"I thought the source of the demonic tide was deep in the forest," Guild Master Elon said slowly, his voice filled with rare worry. "I thought that as long as the deep cracks were sealed, the outer perimeter would be safe."
I never imagined... the demonic tide would spread so quickly and so widely.
Raymond gave a wry smile: "Even the demonic tide fifty years ago didn't spread this fast. This time... something's not right."
"Something's definitely not right." President Elon looked into the depths of the forest, where the darkness was even more intense than elsewhere, as if it could swallow up all light. "The cracks are widening, or... new cracks are appearing."
"We're out of time." Raymond gripped his sword hilt. "The expedition teams on the outskirts... they'll have to rely on themselves."
President Elon closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he opened his eyes again, there was only determination in them: "Yes, we don't have time to spare for rescue. The deep rift must be sealed immediately, or the entire Gray Forest, and even Summertown, will fall."
Two near-master level professionals—
Airon, a level 10 mage, is just one step away from master level, but ultimately he is not a master.
Raymond, a level 10 warrior, is also stuck at the threshold.
Abandon the periphery and focus all efforts on solving the root cause.
"What about the kingdom's support?" Raymond asked.
"They're already on their way," said President Elon. "A master from the Royal Mage Order, a grandmaster from the Kingdom Knights, and an archbishop from the Holy See... They'll arrive by tomorrow morning at the latest."
"Tomorrow morning..." Raymond looked outwards, a hint of reluctance flashing in his eyes.
How many of those expedition teams on the outskirts will survive tomorrow morning?
But he knew that President Elon was right.
If the deep cracks are not sealed, even more people will die.
"May the gods protect them," Raymond whispered.
President Airon did not answer.
He simply leaped back onto the Pegasus and raised his oak staff.
"Set off."
Pegasus spread its wings and soared into the night sky.
Raymond glanced one last time in the direction of the outer perimeter, then turned and led his elite troops deeper into the forest.
There, at the source of the demonic tide, the true threat awaits them.
As for life and death on the periphery, it can only be left to fate, to the efforts of those young adventurers themselves, and...
Perhaps, it's up to some unexpected variable.