The Villain Professor's Second Chance-Chapter 450: The Unbending Flame

Amberine pressed her back against the ancient wooden shelf, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the faint booms of distant magical conflict echoing through Aetherion. The oppressive silence of the library, broken only by the occasional creak of shifting wood or the faint flicker of Ifrit’s glow, seemed to magnify the cloaked man’s steady footsteps. He was close. Too close.

"I found you," his voice came, low and taunting, echoing eerily in the confined space. It wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that cut through the stillness, crawling up Amberine’s spine like ice. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from gasping, her trembling hands pressed against the edge of the nearest shelf. Dust motes danced lazily in the faint light of Ifrit’s glow, as though mocking her rising panic. Somewhere above, the fortress quaked again, but the chaos felt worlds away compared to the suffocating intimacy of her predator’s approach.

Ifrit, perched on her shoulder, was trembling as much as she was, his small claws digging into her robe. "Amberine," he whispered, his voice barely audible, "we have two choices: fight or be taken. If you surrender, you know what they plan to do with you."

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Her tattoos burned faintly, a cruel reminder of what she risked. The Devil Coffin’s ritual. She couldn’t let them use her. That thought alone sent a jolt of steel into her resolve. She forced her breath to steady, though her limbs still shook. Her fingers itched to cast a spell, but exhaustion clung to her like chains. Yet there was no running, no hiding. Not now.

Ifrit’s soft voice cut through her swirling thoughts. "We can fuse," he said. His glow flickered, determination overtaking his fear. "I can lend you everything I have, but it will drain us both. Your mana and mine will become one. It’s dangerous, but… better than surrender."

Amberine swallowed hard. She’d heard of spirit fusion before, a desperate technique that could push a mage beyond their limits. But it was unpolished. Untamed. Like her. Still, she couldn’t hesitate.

"Let’s do it," she whispered.

Ifrit pressed closer to her cheek. "Alright," he said, his tone soft yet fierce. "But listen to me. I’ll guide you. Don’t let fear control you, Amberine. We’re fire. Fire burns brightest when it’s cornered."

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. In the stillness of her mind, she felt Ifrit’s warmth merge with her own mana. Sparks of orange and crimson flame began to swirl around her fingertips, weaving into glowing threads that crawled along the lines of her tattoos. The burning sensation deepened but didn’t overwhelm her. Instead, it filled her with a volatile energy—a precarious balance of power and fragility. Ifrit’s voice sounded in her mind now, calm but urgent: "Visualize the runes. Steady your breathing. Do not falter."

The cloaked man stepped into view, his visage obscured but his aura suffocating. With a single gesture, his hands curled in complex patterns, conjuring a web of spectral chains that hissed and writhed with curses. He hurled them toward her with a guttural chant:

"Chains of Malediction, bind the flesh and drain the soul."

The chains hurtled through the air, crackling with dark energy. Amberine acted on instinct, her hands moving as Ifrit whispered instructions. She summoned a blazing whip of flame, the fiery tendril snapping forward to intercept the chains. When they collided, sparks and embers showered the musty library, the air filled with the acrid scent of burning magic.

"Impressive," the cloaked man sneered, his tone laced with mockery. "But you’re clumsy. Unrefined."

Amberine gritted her teeth, forcing her trembling legs to keep her steady. "Better clumsy than twisted," she shot back, snapping the flame whip again to deflect another chain.

His laugh was cold and humorless. With a flick of his wrist, he redirected the chains, weaving them into a spiraling attack that lashed out from multiple angles. Amberine had no time to think—only react. Ifrit’s guidance came sharp and fast: "To your left! Up! Strike now!" She followed his instructions, her flames carving a protective arc, deflecting some chains and incinerating others. But she could feel the toll it was taking. Each movement sapped more of their combined energy, and the room seemed to grow colder with every passing second.

The cloaked man’s robes shimmered faintly as her flames struck him. Defensive runes, Amberine realized. Each sigil etched into his garments absorbed a portion of her attacks, dispersing their power before they could reach him. He retaliated with bolts of shadow, each one rattling the shelves and sending ancient tomes cascading to the floor. Amberine barely dodged, diving behind a toppled bookshelf for cover.

"You’re stalling," the cloaked man growled. "How long can you last?"

Amberine didn’t answer. Instead, she placed her hand on the floor, focusing her mana into a fiery sigil. The runes glowed fiercely before erupting into serpentine flames that slithered toward him, their bodies coiling and snapping like living creatures. For a moment, she thought she had him, but he leaped back, conjuring illusions that split his form into multiple phantasmal doubles. The flame-serpents struck one after another, but none were real.

"He’s using decoys," Amberine hissed, her breath coming in short gasps. "Ifrit?"

"Hold on," Ifrit said, his voice strained but focused. "I can sense his mana signature. There!"

Following Ifrit’s guidance, Amberine unleashed a concentrated burst of fire at one of the figures. The flames connected, and the illusion shattered, revealing the cloaked man’s true form. He snarled, raising a wall of shadow to shield himself from the next attack.

The battle raged on, the library descending into chaos. Shelves toppled, books ignited, and ash filled the air in wisps that swirled around the combatants. The cloaked man’s chants grew more frantic, his voice rasping with urgency.

"You will submit! The ritual demands it!"

Amberine’s mind raced. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Her body ached, her mana reserves dwindling, but she refused to let him win. Desperation pushed her to draw on the Holy Scriptures she had glimpsed earlier. Her fingers traced an arcane rune in the air, combining elemental fire with ancient symbols.

Ifrit’s voice wavered with alarm. "Amberine, that spell—it’s unstable!"

"No choice," she whispered. The swirling vortex of flame took shape around her hand, its energy crackling violently. With a cry, she unleashed it, the torrent of fire tearing through the illusions and slamming into the cloaked man’s barrier. The impact sent him stumbling, his dark shield cracking under the strain.

For a moment, Amberine dared to hope. But then she felt it—a strange ripple in the mana around them. The ley lines shifted, their flow disrupted by an external force. At the far end of the library, a portal flared to life, its edges crackling with unstable energy. The cloaked man froze, his gaze snapping to the portal. Find adventures on novelbuddy

"What…" he muttered, his voice filled with confusion and fear.

Amberine stared, her flames flickering weakly as exhaustion threatened to overtake her. The portal’s energy was unlike anything she had ever seen, its cold aura sucking the warmth from the room. And then, through the shimmering gateway, a figure stepped into view.

The temperature plummeted instantly. The flames still burning around the library extinguished in an instant, leaving only a suffocating chill. The air itself seemed to crystallize, frost creeping across the stone floor. Amberine shivered, clutching Ifrit closer as his glow dimmed.

The cloaked man tried to recover, raising his hand to cast another spell. But before he could utter a word, another hand clamped down on his wrist. It was firm, unyielding, and impossibly cold. The cloaked man’s head whipped around, his eyes widening in terror.

"You… What are you doing—" he began, but his words died in his throat as he met the gaze of the figure behind him.

Draven stood there, his eyes colder than the frost that encased the room, his grip like iron. The library, once filled with the chaos of battle, fell silent as the sheer weight of his presence consumed the space. Amberine could only stare, her body frozen not from the cold but from the chilling intensity of his aura.

"Professor..."