Cameraman Never Dies-Chapter 170: Divine wrath!... Yeah, no thanks

"Wrath of the Light"

Flora pointed her glaive to the sky with the kind of flair that would make a theater performer proud. The air around her crackled with radiant energy as countless bright portals appeared, shimmering like stars come too close to Earth.

From each portal, a golden spear emerged, glowing with the intensity of miniature suns. The evening sky, bathed moments ago in a warm orange hue, was now glaringly bright—daylight had been rudely dragged back onto the scene.

It was a sight to behold, though not everyone appreciated it. The Avians seemed thrilled, their feathers practically preening under the light, but the vampires? Not so much. Unlike her father’s legendary light, which could turn a vampire into a well-dressed pile of ash, Flora’s light merely irritated them. Think of it as an overpowered flashlight rather than a death ray.

"Descent!" Flora roared, swinging her glaive with such force that the nearby rooftops shook. The golden spears shot down like divine ballistic missiles, each one promising fiery judgment.

The vampire, a wiry figure with a face that looked like it hadn’t seen moisturizer in centuries, strained against the invisible force keeping him rooted in place. "Fight me fairly, despicable Avian!" he barked, his voice as raspy as sandpaper on a bad day.

Flora didn’t even flinch. Her face tightened, her grip on the glaive ironclad. Fair? she thought. You jumped me in the middle of my village, broke my rib, and probably ruined dinner plans. Fairness took a hike about five moves ago.

The spears descended with a deafening roar, but the vampire didn’t panic. Instead, a black mist began to swirl around him, coiling like smoke escaping a fire. Two faint eyes appeared behind him in the mist, cold and unblinking. The shadowy figure solidified into a hooded specter, complete with a scythe that screamed "Grim Reaper, but make it edgy."

The eerie figure leaned over the vampire, who seemed to gain strength just from its presence. Muscles twitched and flexed, regaining control, and the vampire moved with a speed that would make a cheetah blush. He darted aside just as the spears collided with the ground, detonating in a spectacular display of light and debris.

"You wish to know my name, Avian?" His voice had changed—deeper, echoing with an ominous undertone. "I am Antiochus… and you will remember it in your final moments."

Antio dodged another spear with an effortless leap, landing on a wall and pushing off like gravity was a mere suggestion. Another spear exploded behind him, sending a shockwave through the village square.

"I thought this was your village," he said, his tone was unnervingly calm. The echoes of his voice, however, sounded downright furious, repeating his words like a malfunctioning megaphone. Flora blinked mid-battle. Why are the echoes angry? she wondered briefly, before shaking her head. No time for existential sound design questions.

Antio moved like a dancer on a caffeine high, his reflexes borderline supernatural. Every spear that came near was dodged with precision that made Flora’s attacks look like a slow-motion training exercise. His speed, strength, and uncanny ability to react almost before she acted made him seem less like a fighter and more like an all-in-one nightmare factory.

Enhanced strength, Incredible ability to observe and react, tough body, and either foresight or slowing down time. She gritted her teeth. Great. I’m up against a multipurpose Army knife with no actual knife. Heck, he doesn’t even have a weapon. This is fine.1

He leaped from rooftops to ledges to windows, each movement fluid and purposeful, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Flora braced herself, waiting for the right moment. As he lunged, she dodged to the side, her wings unfurling to send her backward in a graceful arc.

Antio wasn’t out of tricks. A thick black mist swirled around his legs, forming a makeshift platform beneath him. He stepped into the air like a protagonist from a cultivation novel, each step solid as stone. Flora barely had time to blink before a thin blade of mist materialized in his hand.

The weapon was extremely thin, nearly invisible, but devastatingly sharp. He struck, and Flora raised her glaive just in time to block, though the impact sent a jolt through her arms. A thin line of blood appeared on her shoulder where the blade had grazed her.

The force of the blow sent her spiraling back. She flapped her wings desperately, cushioning her fall just enough to avoid broken bones, but the landing still knocked the wind out of her.

Antiochus hovered above, his silhouette framed by the setting sun. The horizon was painted in fiery reds and golds, but the light felt mocking now. Not nighttime yet, and I’m already getting clobbered, Flora thought, pushing herself up. Find more chapters on novelbuddy

She glanced at her arm and frowned. The wound wasn’t healing. The usual warmth of light-imbued ether was absent, repelled by some ominous force.

Antiochus smirked, his eerie echo following suit. "Having trouble, Avian?"

Flora gripped her glaive tighter, narrowing her eyes. "Not as much trouble as you’re about to have."

Antio lunged forward, propelling from the black mist like spring. Flora darted to the left as he slashed again, his mist blade carving through the air with a sharp hiss.

The ground where she had been standing split open, a gash torn into the cobblestone as though it were paper. She retaliated immediately, thrusting her glaive upward in a wide arc, its golden light streaking toward him like a comet.

Antiochus tilted his head, dodging with humiliating ease, and countered with a spinning kick that Flora barely managed to block with the shaft of her glaive. The impact reverberated up her arms, and she was forced backward... again, her boots skidding across the uneven ground.

Flora’s hand grew weak as she lost more blood from the wound. She had been trained multiple times, but she had rarely been wounded, and all her wounds were always healed almost immediately.

She remembered her father giving her a pill to use in times of not being able to heal and being on the losing end.

She injected some ether into her glaive and the iridescent glow of the blade started to grow, covering the whole blade in a moment’s time. She slashed the blade swiftly with all the strength her arm could muster.

Antio, without doubt, dodged the blade. But Flora’s aim had already been fulfilled, she was aiming for a small moment, with enough time for her to swallow the yellow pill.

The pill was supposed to provide her with the true power of the sun that is present within their bloodline. Something that would give her enough power to fight even in the dark.

After she swallowed the pill whole, she did not feel the rush of power or anything dramatic like that, but she never doubted her father, and never will. She flew up, tore off a peace of clothe from her dress, and tied her cut to mask the healing she was about to do.

Just as on queue, a massive dark dome appeared near the edge of the city, but Flora had not time to pay attention to it. Antiochus was still there...not?

As soon as he saw the dome he smiled, "Sorry, gotta dip." he looked at her and dispersed into black mist. Flora just stayed there motionless, she just used a priced treasure and her enemy just escaped.

———

Amber stared into her bowl of "Golden Truffle Essence with a Hint of Moonlight," wondering why it was so clear that she could see her reflection, but so expensive it could have paid for her entire first semester."What’s wrong?" Alex asked, already halfway through his bowl. "It’s soup. You like soup."

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Amber cautiously took a sip. "It’s... fine. But why does it taste like water that got a motivational speech from a mushroom?"

Alex laughed so loudly that several diners turned their heads. "You’ve got your mother’s sharp tongue. That’s going to be dangerous at the academy."

Amber grinned, relaxing a little. "If I survive the dorm food, right?"

"Exactly."

The waiter returned with a cart laden with cheese wheels that he described with such passion that Amber felt like she was attending a theatrical performance.

"This one," the waiter intoned gravely, pointing to a wedge of something green, "is aged in a cave blessed by the Goddess of Flavors herself."

Amber bit her lip to keep from laughing. Alex, however, played along. "Ah, yes, the divine cheese. A must-have."

When the waiter was gone, Amber leaned across the table. "Do you think he’s serious?"

"Absolutely not," Alex said, cutting a piece of the green cheese and popping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, then grimaced. "Tastes like divine punishment, though."

Amber snorted so loudly she nearly knocked over her glass of water. "Stop making me laugh!"

By the time dessert arrived, Amber was in high spirits. The waiter placed a golden dome on the table and lifted it with a flourish, revealing a tower of spun sugar so intricate it looked like it might crumble under its own beauty. The dish was called "The Ether’s Caress."

"Well," Amber said, staring at the dessert, "if I didn’t know better, I’d think they were trying to impress us."

Alex grinned. "Take a picture with your memory, Amber. This is the kind of story you’ll want to tell your classmates when they’re eating mystery casserole."

I wanted to say Swiss army knife, but... context.