Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part Two]

CHAPTER 240: The Fae Hybrid

The pill had taken effect.

"No... no, not you too..." Lefahne whispered in horror.

Lyra lunged.

Steel shrieked through the air as her elbow-blade whistled toward Lefahne's neck, just a hair's breadth away from cleaving her head from her shoulder.

"Get back!" Zurrel roared, grabbing and pulling his wife into a roll.

The missed strike buried itself into the wooden floorboards, carving a trench with ease. Then the nun screeched, spinning and flinging bladed arcs of wind from her arms.

The apothecary was torn apart—shelves, books, plants—all shredded in a whirlwind of destruction.

Zurrel threw up another vine wall, sweat dripping from his chin. The barrier shuddered and cracked as the blades slammed into it like storm-hurled axes.

"We won't last like this!" He gasped.

"I can still—!" Lefahne started.

Suddenly, the door at the back of the corridor flung open. Tiny, frantic footsteps pounded toward them. A high-pitched voice cried out in dread.

"Mom! Dad!"

"Silvie—NO!!" Zurrel and Lefahne shouted in unison.

The girl's gaze froze as she rounded the corner—only to witness the unimaginable.

Cadane had looped around, taking advantage of the window of distraction. From behind, his lance-arm plunged through Zurrel's back, the tip bursting from his abdomen and impaling Lefahne's chest as well.

Their bodies arched in agony.

Blood spilled.

Time slowed.

Silvestia screamed.

The sound tore from her throat, filled with horror as she flung herself across the bloodied floor toward her parents. Her knees slammed against the plywood as she reached out, hands trembling, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"No... no, please...!"

Her fingers gripped Zurrel's shoulder, then Lefahne's bloodied hand, as if she could pull them back from the brink through sheer will alone. Her breath came in shallow, panicked gasps, her lungs on the verge of collapsing.

"I'm sorry," she cried, the words tumbling out. "I didn't mean to fall asleep—I tried—I really tried—I should've told you everything sooner—none of this would've happened if I had just said something—!"

Behind her, a low voice cut through her sobs like a knife. "Well, well... just the brat I wanted to see."

Silvestia's tear-streaked face lifted slowly. Her red-rimmed eyes glared at him, filled with loathing. "You... monsters! You'll pay dearly for this!"

Lugene stepped forward with a mocking pout. "Oh, sweetie. You really thought you'd have a chance to turn us in, didn't you?"

Her expression twisted into something far crueler. "We were counting on that. You couldn't have known, but we had eyes on every outpost. Every gate, every corridor. If you or your parents had made even one move toward reporting us, you would've been dead before you opened your mouth."

Rue added casually, "So, you see? Holding back was the smartest thing you've ever done. Not that it matters."

Silvestia's lips trembled, her heart plummeting. Even if she'd told them. Even if they'd tried to get help or run, they still would've been alone—cornered, hunted.

A soft, choked voice broke the silence.

"Zurrel..." Lefahne's eyes fluttered open. Her hand moved weakly across the blood-soaked floor, reaching for her husband. "We... have to save her... our little girl..."