Ten thousand icy water spikes shot toward her with ruthless precision.

Verlith had no intention of becoming a pincushion.

She launched herself upward, wings flaring mid-air to whip up a gale. Riding the wind, she dove low toward the Behemoth.

Her head dipped slightly. Her back arched subtly.

Her left hand hovered as if gripping a sword hilt; her right mirrored it, tiger palms aligned.

Sword energy thrummed through her stance.

—The opening move of her ultimate sword strike, forged through a lifetime of blade mastery.

Though weaponless now, Verlith’s aura blazed fiercer than when armed!

*True mastery lies beyond the sword!* Any swordmaster witnessing this would gasp in awe.

Her spinning body carved through the wind, driving immense force downward. Suddenly, her palms flattened.

—*Peerless Swordless Slash!*

The Gale Sword Sect was famed for its devastating cuts. This technique was their pinnacle: a single-strike kill, cleaving all under heaven.

Verlith knew only two souls alive who could wield it—herself, and her master, Longya. Not for its difficulty, but for the near-impossible state it demanded: utter self-abandonment, where only the sword’s truth remained.

Yet Verlith, whose past life obsessed over the blade, had achieved it.

Now, with death-spikes closing in, she slipped into that swordless realm!

The instant she soared over the Behemoth’s head—

Her hands transformed into the world’s deadliest blades.

Palms slashed diagonally downward. *Slash!*

A world-shaking strike.

Razor wind. Unstoppable sword intent. Heaven-forged pressure crashed down upon the Behemoth!

Though called "one slash," the Behemoth saw infinite blades converging from all directions—relentless, inescapable!

The beast’s round head froze. Its limited mind couldn’t discern the true strike from the illusions.

Frantically, it twisted, accelerating the water spikes’ descent—to kill this attacker first.

—Futile.

*Thwip—!*

Verlith’s palms sliced across the Behemoth’s thick neck at an impossible angle.

The world slowed in the Behemoth’s eyes. The phantom blades coalesced into one true cut. Those delicate palms—now steel swords—crossed cleanly through its throat. It felt them sink deep into its flesh.

Then time snapped back. Despair and panic gave way to raw, feral madness.

They parted in a heartbeat.

As Verlith severed its neck, the water spikes dissolved like rain around her. But the Behemoth’s decapitated head—hurtling upward—jerked open its maw and clamped down with death-grip force on Verlith’s slender waist.

A dying beast’s final lunge!

Verlith’s wings, about to fold, snapped wide open!

Gale-force winds bent trees sideways.

Her plummeting body surged upward on the current.

She spiraled into the sky, twisting her waist to shake loose the monstrous head.

The once-azure sky now bled with violet-black Nethermist—spraying from the Behemoth’s severed throat, a grotesque mimicry of blood.

Its dying gasps stained her wings with clinging mist.

Verlith spun wildly, clawing at the skull—but it clung like a locked shackle.

*Do all dying creatures summon strength beyond life?*

Her rotation intensified, whipping the violet-black mist into a storm against the blue sky.

Exhaustion hit hard after unleashing her ultimate technique. Each evasion drained her; sweat beaded on her brow, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Minutes passed. The head grew still—lifeless—but refused to release its grip.

Seeing the threat gone, Verlith shook her head wearily and prepared to land.

Halfway down, backlash struck.

Agony ripped through her meridians. Her body convulsed violently, numbness swallowing all sensation. Her wings faltered.

*Boom!*

The gale died. Verlith crashed heavily onto the earth.

She lay paralyzed, utterly spent.

Then, like all fallen Netherborn Elves, the Behemoth’s head began dissolving into wisps of Nethermist.

Its massive body nearby melted away similarly.

After a moment’s rest, feeling seeped back into Verlith’s limbs. A cold slickness coated her palm.

She saw violet-black fluid staining her skin—numbness had dulled the sensation.

From where the Behemoth’s corpse vanished, thickening Nethermist swirled toward her.

More mist crept from the surroundings, encircling her.

Panic flashed in Verlith’s eyes. She tried to rise, to flee the mist—but paralysis seized her anew. She collapsed.

Icy Nethermist enveloped her completely.

*No… please… I don’t want to become Netherborn…*

Trapped in her own body, true terror gripped Verlith’s heart.