novelraw Chapter 243 : Chapter 243
Chapter 243 : Chapter 243
Volume 4 Chapter 31
A sweeping sandstorm blocked our path. The sky-blotting yellow sand surged like waves from a stormy sea, wave after wave of sediment crashing forward, a natural chasm stretching across the gorge—a barrier no one dared challenge.
This was a manifestation of Divine Authority forged from the laws of the world itself. Without great power, no one could defy it. Any who tried would be left in tatters—nothing but bones and dust.
Everyone turned to look at Teresa.
None of us could quite explain it, but even though she was our peer in age, whenever we encountered an insurmountable trial like this, our first instinct was:
“What would Teresa do?”
“Would she have a solution?”
Teresa was never one to hesitate. After a brief moment of thought, she made her decision.
We came here to peel away the layers, to uncover Ruglian’s secrets, to find Ifan and confront her. To ask about the smallest details and the full truth—whether they really opened the gates to the Demon Race, and what exactly happened with the oppression of the Gold Elves.
These unanswered questions tormented Teresa like a fire in her chest, burning ceaselessly.
The road ahead would be perilous. But if she wasn’t prepared for that, then why had she stepped onto this path into the depths of the Demon Race's domain in the first place?
With that thought clear, her confusion vanished.
Gray-black void formed in her hands, shaped by pure destruction. The authority to destroy heaven and earth coalesced into a solid weapon. Instantly, the air turned icy. Color fled from the world.
Everyone unconsciously stepped back.
The long halberd in Teresa’s grip was the very embodiment of Destruction. Anything it touched would meet a fated end—annihilation.
Even in Teresa’s hands, such a weapon felt terrifying.
Astrid stared at the black-flamed [Sacred Oblivion] in her hand. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but it felt like the weapon was slowly consuming all the brilliance and splendor from Teresa. That despairing darkness crept up her soul like ink on pure white paper.
Teresa raised [Sacred Oblivion], murmured something silently in her heart, then swung the halberd down.
A storming inferno. Roaring sand. The ravenous maw of purgatory.
And in that single swing of her black-flame halberd, it was as if time itself paused. Every gust of wind, every grain of sand—frozen in place.
A moment later, the sandstorm wall—once an impassable chasm—was split clean in two by the absolute blade of destruction.
We all stared in stunned silence. That small Elf Girl had cleaved open wind and sand with a single strike.
A mortal’s strength had just bent the laws of nature. The sheer visual shock was beyond belief.
“She really… she really split it?” Felicia's eyes shimmered with reverence. “She cut that storm in half...??”
She had known all along that Teresa’s black-flamed halberd was no ordinary weapon—but to think it could change nature itself…
This sandstorm had raged for hundreds of years without rest. And yet with one strike, it was parted, a path carved out through the fury.
[Sacred Oblivion] burned out like dying charcoal, vanishing from Teresa’s hand.
But though the fuel had burned away, the black dust born of that fire inevitably entered her lungs.
Teresa landed steadily, yet there was no joy in her expression. She clutched her forehead, half-kneeling. A thick haze shrouded her mind.
Her vision blurred—as if covered by a pitch-black filter. Everything she saw became faint, distorted.
In that instant, she opened her eyes—and found herself in a sea of flames.
A ruined village. Corpses littered the ground.
Teresa’s eyes widened, pupils contracting. Her gaze slowly fell to her bloodstained hands.
All the warmth and light of the past was gone. Only ruin and death remained.
Once, she had the power to change everything.
But was it still meaningful to wonder who caused this tragedy?
The massacre had already happened. And she, as the Elf War Goddess, had failed to protect her people.
That failure alone was an unforgivable sin.
Whether she had failed to save them—or was the cause of their destruction—what difference did it make? Both stemmed from her negligence and weakness. Countless lives had slipped through her fingers like sand, no matter how desperately she tried to hold on.
Then, a cold sensation touched her shoulder —like someone pouring ice water over her head.
The jolt brought her back.
She looked up—and saw a pair of violet moon-like eyes, filled with emotion, staring at her.
Only when they saw Teresa’s eyes clear again did the worry within them fade, replaced with deep concern.
“Are you okay?”
“…Mm.” Teresa nodded slightly, avoiding her gaze.
Those elegant eyes on that cool, aloof face—now tinged with rare care—felt almost like a goddess descending to touch mortal emotion.
For some reason, Teresa instinctively looked away. “Can you let go of me now?”
“…Sorry.” Astrid, realizing she’d still been gripping Teresa’s shoulders from earlier, apologized as she released her. Her fingertips could still feel Teresa’s warmth.
“Teresa, are you alright?”
The others around us all looked toward her with various degrees of surprise and worry.
“What… just happened to me?”
“You were really scary just now,” Wenfu said, hesitating for words. “Like, like someone drowning…”
She tried to explain with hand gestures, but couldn’t find the right words.
It was like watching someone fall into a stream—thrashing, sinking deeper and deeper, completely submerged in fear and despair.
We had all tried to call out to Teresa, but there was no response.
It was Astrid who’d acted decisively—grabbing her shoulders and locking eyes with her—finally bringing her back.
“You’re really okay?” Felicia asked, brows knit tightly. She’d never seen Teresa so out of sorts before.
“I’m fine.” Teresa shook her head with a faint smile, regaining her usual calm.
On the surface, that moment seemed like a harmless interlude.
But whether it had any deeper consequences—only Teresa herself knew.
When Felicia suggested turning back, Teresa firmly refused, assuring us she was fine. It was just a headache, she said, from the past few days of stress.
No one could argue with that.
Astrid glanced silently at Teresa’s composed expression—and said nothing.
“Felicia, did you store the wolf pelts and fangs we collected?”
“Don’t worry. I picked the best ones and packed them.”
“Good. Don’t lose them. They’re an important part of our report.”
“All right—let’s keep going.”
“Wait, is it really safe now?” Wenfu asked. Her gaze lingered on the parted sandstorm.
Sure, there was a clear path now, but what if it reformed while we were walking?
Would we be buried alive?
“Don’t worry. That section of the storm has been completely ‘erased’ from this world,” Teresa replied.
Having used [Sacred Oblivion] repeatedly now, she understood its strangeness—but also its power. On this point, the weapon could be trusted.
We resumed our formation—Teresa and Astrid in the lead, Yimi and Wenfu in the middle, Felicia bringing up the rear.
Wenfu stepped timidly onto the dustless path. She was nervous, but also amazed.
The storm still raged furiously on both sides, but the middle remained utterly calm.
It was like some invisible wall divided the two sides—a strange but fascinating experience.
It reminded her of an aquarium from her past life.
The path to the other side of the storm was long—so long that even the Demon Race trapped beyond it had given up trying to cross it.
The farther we walked, the hotter the sun above seemed to blaze.
Despite being dimmer than Kaleburn’s sun, it scorched us as if it wanted to boil every drop of water in our bodies.
Even Teresa and Astrid—lightly dressed and resistant to heat—were visibly sweating.
Wenfu stumbled and swayed. Her head was spinning. She didn’t want to slow the group down—but her body couldn’t take it.
A Divine Authority Domain couldn’t block heat!
Just as she was about to collapse, a sudden chill brought her mind back.
“Drink this.” Teresa handed her a translucent, deep-blue potion.
“Mmhh…” Wenfu, nearly delirious, didn’t question it. The Alchemy Potion gave off such a refreshing sensation that just being near it seemed to ease her heatstroke.
Teresa had only brought one such potion—not expecting to face desert terrain.
After drinking it, Wenfu looked much better—at least no longer dizzy.
We continued forward.
The good news: the sandstorm had finally died down.
The bad news: the heat was getting worse.
Before us lay not sand—but boiling magma.
The heat continued to climb...
Felicia, dragging her massive sword, was beginning to suffer under Ruglian’s inhuman environment.
Why… Why was there a lava field after the desert?!
The black rock beneath us scorched through even her thick boots.
The sandstorm was gone—but now came a heat that warped the air itself.
At this temperature, no human—no matter their resistance—would survive falling in. They’d melt, flesh and bone alike.
“Do we have enough water left?” Teresa asked.
“Barely. But at this rate, it’s going to evaporate fast.” Felicia opened a canteen. The water inside was already hot.
“Yimi, if you’re not holding up, tell me.”
“…I’m not that fragile. Maybe focus on yourself first,” Yimi replied coldly.
If she could still argue, Teresa figured she’d be fine.
“I never imagined a place like this could exist inside Ruglian,” Felicia murmured. “This had to form after the Demon Race arrived. That volcano wasn’t here before.”
All eyes turned toward the twisted silhouette in the distance—a slumbering black volcano, barely visible through the broken space around it.
“There’s only one path forward.” At least we didn’t have to choose.
“Let’s get out of here quickly,” Astrid said, glancing at Wenfu behind her. “She looks like she’s struggling.”
“I-I’m fine. Mew…”
“Eh—ehhh, look! Look, it’s a water pool…!” Wenfu suddenly darted ahead.
“Wenfu?!” we all cried—but it was too late. She’d nearly reached the edge of the lava.
“So… cool… mew…”
Oh no. Had the heat cooked her brain?
Suddenly—boom boom!—the lava began to churn violently.
Wenfu stumbled and fell.
“Owowow… it hurts…”
“Wenfu! Watch out!”
Someone called her name—and she looked up, dazed—only for every hair on her tail to stand up.
The heat—was it even worse now…?
Before her stood a giant humanoid creature, its skin glowing with charred red and black. Like burning charcoal, its eyes blazed with fire—no irises, just flames.
Its head burned endlessly like dry kindling, releasing columns of black smoke.
The creature stood three meters tall. Towering over Wenfu like a mountain.
“It’s a Flame Demon!” Felicia shouted, dashing toward her. The demon raised a burning arm like a pillar of iron.
Wenfu was frozen in fear.
A streak of light flashed.
The Flame Demon halted—an enormous hole now pierced through its chest.
Its fiery eyes dimmed as it howled in agony—and fell back into the magma.
Teresa, bow in hand, slowly lowered her drawn string.
Felicia scooped up Wenfu. She was utterly terrified—babbling incoherently.
“It’s not over,” Astrid said tightly, eyes scanning their surroundings.
And sure enough—the lava churned like a tsunami.
The temperature spiked again.
From within the bubbling magma, countless molten-red arms reached out—crawling forward like walking corpses…