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The Arks 86 The Ark Of The Shadows Attack

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"Can your wing be healed?"

"It can be recovered, but it's going to take a long time compared to other bodily injuries. The wings of a Valkyrie are sacred since it is the core area where our Elemental Energy is produced."

Raiyen looked upset as his partner tried hauling the limp wing around. The Time Mage tried his best to soothe it by stroking the wounded wing. It did nothing to heal, but it did offer comfort to the Valkyrie.

"Not to worry. Victory is, nonetheless, yours. "

The Time Boy sat beside the Valkyrie in silence as Jeanette and Metria caught up to them.

"Mavislin, I'll try to remedy it," suggested Jeanette, placing her hand on the broken wing.

The moment her hand made contact with the wing, a stinging pain ran through the lovely maiden's fingers.

"It rejects any other form of healing by beings besides Valkyries."

Raiyen looked more devastated as his partner tried to keep her wounded wing. Once again, Raiyen gingerly touched her broken wing as the firelight flickered through the sunset.

"Sorry about your wing," whispered Raiyen.

"Don't apologize for your victory. It makes me want to punch you even more," replied the Valkyrie, eyes gazing at the fire.

"Can't I feel sympathetic about what I've succeeded?"

"You are giving pity to your enemies. It will cause your demise."

"But you are my partner!"

"Night is about to fall. We better prepare," said Mavislin, looking around.

"Prepare for what?" asked Metria.

"We are out on a barren wasteland. And the night is falling. Did you genuinely think it would be secure at night?"

"Not as if zombies would roam about," scoffed the foreign princess.

"If you mean the Husks, I much rather prefer them than these beings. This area reeks with them. In all honesty, this land is crawling with those beings," explained Mavislin.

"What do you imply, Mav?" asked Raiyen, taking out his daggers.

The moment the sun hid beneath the horizon, the shadows that the fire had produced shot out and about. The group jumped into the air, in an attempt to get away from the newfound maleficence. The shadows encountered no problem with destroying the campfire they had.

"Don't allow them to touch you!" yelled Mavislin, trying her best not to touch the ground.

Jeanette constructed a barrier using her banner, casting away the shadows near her. Metria manipulated her Aquatic powers to cast a huge water bubble. However, it was barely s.p.a.cious enough to conceal the foreign princess.

"What the h.e.l.l is that?!" yelled Raiyen, glitching to and fro.

"Baldwin's rogue people," replied Mavislin, hovering above the ground with one wing.

"Yea, what are they?!" shouted Metria from her little bubble.

"Talk later! Survive now!" roared the Valkyrie.

This was proving to be a much more strenuous task than what she had antic.i.p.ated. With one side of her body drooping, the single wing in flight was making the experience a tad bit too wobbly. This made it more difficult to dodge the forever nimble shadow beings.


"Baldwin's people?! So they know the Angry Man?" asked Raiyen, trying his best to push away some of the shadows.

As the Time Mage inched too close, Mavislin swooped in to s.n.a.t.c.h the boy back into mid-air.

"How are we supposed to stop this?!" asked Raiyen.

"Praeluceo!(s.h.i.+ne)" chanted Mavislin, pulling out a feather from her damaged wing.

Instead of her usual Whip of Fire, this whip was a string of pure light. Giving a few slashes on the barren land, deep trenches started appearing. Each trench was filled with light.

"Hop down into 'em!" commanded Mavislin.

Before the foreign princess could protest, the fair maiden s.n.a.t.c.hed the kid up and jumped into one of the trenches. Releasing Raiyen into the same trench first, Mavislin made an attempt to escape but was caught off guard by a message.

The message was inscribed with an ancient language. It was by the ancestors of Abyss of Stars, in a dialect to make things worse. There was no way Mavislin could decipher the message the shadows were trying to give. But Valkyries are in possession of a known skill called photographic memory.

But one could invariably tell if a message was of hostility, peace or distress. No matter which language, there was always a pattern when it comes to those things. The message consisted of two symbolic characters, hinting either two words or a name.

It was not long enough to harbor a threat. What's more, the shadows possess no right to chase the group away from someone else's domain. A message for peace is way out of the question, judging the circ.u.mstance.

A distress call or warning sounds about right. But, she can't say for sure. She could only bet on the Angry Man's help to decode the message. For all she knew, Gillian might even help.


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