How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

Chapter 335: Ascension 2



"Ugh!"

A sharp gasp escaped the man's lips as pain exploded through his body.

His face contorted in frustration, and his hand instinctively shot up to grip his shoulder, fingers digging into the torn fabric of his cloak.

Right now, he was pinned against the cold stone wall of a towering building, his body suspended several feet above the ground.

Blood gushed from the gaping wound in his chest, staining his dark robes as he struggled to

move.

A long, gleaming golden spear had impaled him through his side, pinning him in place like an insect caught in a cruel display.

His breaths came in short, ragged bursts as he grasped the shaft of the weapon, trying to wrench it free-only for a sharp surge of pain to jolt through his body.

His fingers trembled as his strength began to wane.

A voice, dripping with amusement, cut through the night air.

"Tsk~ I actually missed. Sorry about that."

The man's eyes flickered toward the speaker, his face twisting into a furious scowl.

"You did that on purpose, brat!" he snarled.

Before him stood a young woman, barely out of her teens, yet exuding a presence far beyond her years.

The moonlight illuminated her composed figure-her stance was unwavering, her grip on her weapon firm and unshaken.

Though she was clearly a student, there was no mistaking it—she carried herself not just as a knight, but as something far more dangerous.

A paladin.

The kind of opponent he had spent his life running from.

His jaw clenched as he glared at her, eyes burning with frustration.

"And here I thought I actually managed to hide pretty well," he muttered, his voice laced with bitter amusement.

He clenched his fist, focusing inward, trying to draw upon the abyssal power that had always come to his aid the dark, insidious mana gifted to him by his great demon lord.

But the moment he tried to channel it, a searing heat flared through his body.

The spear embedded in his chest pulsed with divine energy, its golden glow intensifying as if rejecting his very existence.

The corrupt mana inside him trembled, suppressed, locked away by the holy weapon that kept him trapped.

A sharp click of the tongue echoed through the silence.

"There's no use calling onto your stupid lord now, demonic worshipper."

The girl's voice was cold, merciless.

A flicker of dread crossed the man's eyes as the reality of his situation sank in.

He wasn't getting out of this.

Not this time.

His fingers twitched against the spear's shaft, blood still dripping from his wound.

Yet, despite the agony, despite the hopelessness of his situation, a slow, bitter grin crept onto his lips.

"...Tch. I see."

The man's weary eyes locked onto the young woman before him-golden blonde hair,

piercing green eyes.

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