Chapter 753: Have You Decided?
Ah...
Elsa let out a piercing scream, utterly unprepared for what had happened. Blood instantly soaked her back, and a strange force seeped through her entire body. In the blink of an eye, Elsa's pale skin seemed to be dyed, rapidly turning green...
"Arrow of Chaos!"
Leon, suspended in midair, erupted in fury. By the time he saw Cohen casting the spell, it was too late to stop him. Other than certain Abyssal demons, only Ashen Orcs could unleash this spell.
Through battle, Ashen Orcs continually accumulate the power of the Abyss. Once enough is gathered, they can use it as a catalyst to cast a powerful spell—this is the Arrow of Chaos!
It flies with the speed of an arrow and carries terrifying lethality. The abyssal aura is highly toxic and corruptive to any non-abyssal creature—even dragons dare not be struck by an Arrow of Chaos from an Ashen Orc Warlock of equal rank.
Without protection, this is fatal!
You could even call it inescapable—the potent abyssal energy, laced with poison, ravenously absorbs the target's magic to strengthen itself. Only when every last drop of power is consumed does it ignite into a blaze of abyssal fire, burning the victim to ash from the inside out...
After so much fighting, Cohen had amassed an unknown amount of abyssal power. He unleashed it all at once, striking Elsa, who was completely defenseless. The outcome was obvious—Elsa survived only because a few Frost Shields slowed the assault for a split second.
If not for that, the Arrow of Chaos would have struck Elsa’s head!
“Courting death!”
A cold gleam flashed in Leon’s eyes. In an instant, the magical energy in the air surged like an erupting volcano. The ground trembled faintly, as if something was about to burst out from beneath.
Suddenly, everyone saw it—a massive vine, half a meter thick, broke through the earth and shot up from beneath Cohen’s feet, instantly binding him.
Like a blood-soaked Hellthorn Vine, it writhed madly, locking Cohen tightly within. Cohen was alarmed; thick black smoke billowed from him as waves of magical energy surged, and streaks of abyssal fire flickered into existence.
But the next moment, sharp spikes sprouted all over the Hellthorn Vine’s surface. As the vine twisted, dozens of spikes stabbed into Cohen’s body.
Immediately, Cohen could no longer cast a single spell. The agony was so intense he couldn’t even gather his magic. The Hellthorn Vine kept devouring his blood, and those nearby could hear the relentless gulping as it feasted.
And it didn’t stop there—the Hellthorn Vine kept writhing, sprouting thinner offshoots from its thick trunk, binding Cohen’s head and limbs.
Spike after spike pierced his flesh, and the roots of the Hellthorn Vine twisted in different directions. Hideous wounds appeared all over Cohen’s body, the spikes moving slowly, like dull knives slicing his skin open bit by bit.
Blood gushed from the wounds, so much that even the Hellthorn Vine couldn’t absorb it all. In an instant, Cohen was transformed into a figure drenched in blood.
His eyes bulged wide with agony, his face twisted beyond recognition, and he screamed uncontrollably.
“Ah... Rodney, damn it, save me! Ah... If I die, you’re finished too...”
“Ah... Kill him, Rodney! Kill him, save me, hurry...”
Cohen’s screams echoed, stunning everyone nearby. Reina gently picked up the unconscious Elsa, while Anderson—who had always held a prejudice against Dark Elves—coldly activated the Arcane Wheel, countless runes swirling into existence.
Rodney’s face darkened, his eyes glinting with a chilling light as he stared at Cohen, bound by the Hellthorn Vine. If he could, Rodney would have gladly watched that bastard die as miserably as possible.
Even the surrounding orcs instinctively stepped back. The dimmest orc slaves now looked at Cohen with open contempt.
Orcs respect heroes and powerful warriors; what they despise most are cowards like Cohen. To ambush a female Dark Elf from behind— even the most devious Ashen Orcs found it shameful.
Especially since Rodney himself had ordered a ceasefire, yet Cohen still launched such a disgraceful sneak attack. It was nothing less than a deliberate provocation of a war to the death!
Rodney’s elite troops all wore grim expressions, steadily retreating from Cohen. No one had any intention of helping him—especially with Rodney remaining silent.
Cohen’s screams continued as his body was mangled beyond recognition. The spikes driven into him by the Hellthorn Vine, coupled with its writhing, carved hideous wounds into his flesh. It wouldn’t be long before he died from pain, even before his blood ran dry!