Villain's Second Heart: Trapped in A Fantasy Novel (BL)-Chapter 110: Battle at the Abandoned Farm

The archer made the first move, readying his bow and firing it straight at Oberyn. He made a move to cut the arrow out of the air, but it wasn’t necessary. A gust of wind from behind blew the arrow off course - thanks to Bree.

"I’ll take the archer," she said, her voice full of conviction as she leapt from the ground and dove on the archer from above. It was all he could do to scurry out of the way. The two of them ran through the brush, evading each other’s quick attacks until they burst onto the dead farm.

The archer readied an arrow to launch toward the skies while Bree readied her next move. She spun in midair, supersonic, dodging the arrow and shooting a blue feather arrow at the archer. He quick-nocked an arrow faster than Ezra’s eyes could follow and shot Bree’s out of the air. Oberyn wanted to keep watching, but other things demanded his attention.

He turned to the remaining two assailants. Ezra clashed blades with the swordsman - one, two, three times, spear against sword. They were feeling each other out. He had to trust that his partner would pull through - Ezra was a great fighter, one who even took down a Magician.

That just left Oberyn and the mage. He turned to the spellcaster, who braced their heavy staff in hand.

"I don’t know who you are, kid, but anyone who’d challenge us must not know trouble when it’s starting in their face. Think you can keep up?"

The spellcaster swirled his staff. Oberyn watched it suspiciously, sensing magic within. Some sort of enchanted item, he assumed. It radiated raw mana into the air.

The staff-bearer shot a purple dart of energy at Oberyn, who caught it with his sword. Using the Ignition Blade, he cut through the magic spell, incinerating it entirely, igniting the magic itself.

The spellcaster took a step back, frightened and intrigued. "Why, I’ve never seen an ability like that," he snickered. "What sort of powers are you hiding?"

Ezra swung his arm defiantly. "I’m not hiding anything. Oberyn, the Magician of Explosions, at your service."

"M-Magician!?" the spellcaster exclaimed, alarmed. "No way! You’re just a skinny brat!"

Oberyn sheathed his sword and held both hands in front of him, fingers overlapping. "You think you’ll doubt it after this?"

He could already hear the rattling from here, but the mage called his bluff. He thought he could win. He moved his staff in a strange way, and suddenly Oberyn was beset by a barrage of missiles.

Oberyn returned his sword to his hand in an instant, slicing through any of the guided missiles that dared get close enough to strike. He cut down dozens before he was able to create an opening - but once he did, the tide turned in his favor.

He released a wave of magic and supercharged the area in front of him. Every missile within ten feet vaporized before he finished an exhale. He leveled his breathing and spotted the spellcaster through the smoky haze of his explosions. The mage was out of juice, at least for the moment. The Nephilim could strike him dead right now if he wanted to.

He turned his attention to the chaos around him for just a moment. Bree was still locked in fierce combat with the archer. Blue feathers darted through the sky and peppered the land below as she dodged arrows in wide, arching spirals through the air.

Ezra was locked in with the swordsman, and Oberyn could tell his lover had the upper hand, while the swordsman was completely on the defensive.

Oberyn looked back at his own opponent. Fear had set in the man’s eyes. He was shaking his head.

"P-please," the man cried. "I was just - she made us watch this place! Told us to kill anyone who snooped around and found that doll! Please, please!"

He hesitated. "Who?"

The man pulled his hair, dropped his staff, and raised both hands in the air in surrender. He was totally frantic.

"I don’t know her name! I’ll cooperate! I’ll do whatever you want! Just let me go!"

Oberyn took a step toward him. "Alright," he said. "It’s not my way to kill someone who’s already surrendered."

The spellcaster nodded as Oberyn approached him. "Yes, yes," he said, his eyes flashing with a suspicious glint.

"I’m going to have to restrain you," Oberyn began, but the man made his move. He pulled a dagger from his cloak and whipped it at Oberyn as fast as he could.

The Nephilim stepped back. He’d been hit. The dagger slashed across his left arm and it dropped to his side, limp. He grabbed it in shock just as the man readied a second strike, this time aiming for his torso.

The pain overtook him instantly. His magic surged in response, defending him on its own. The searing pain in his arm was unbearable, but the sight of his own blood - now jagged orange spikes ripping through the air - froze him in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He watched as the spikes shredded the spellcaster to ribbons. The man’s screams were drowned by the roaring in Oberyn’s ears. His own magic - alive. Uncontrolled.

What had just happened?

Oberyn collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, clinging to his arm as the orange spikes retreated back into his body. It hurt like hell, but the magic was already at work burning and sealing the wound shut.

"Oby!" he heard. Ezra had seen him go down. There was a definitive slash - Ezra’s spear finally felled his opponent. The man gurgled as he dropped into the grass nearby, limp.

Ezra rushed to Oberyn’s side, inspecting him for damage. Oberyn pushed him off. "I’m fine," he barked, holding his arm. The wound was already sealed. He was shaken, but he’d live. "Go help Bree."

Ezra nodded and sprang into action. He burst onto the field just long enough to distract the archer. The man turned to face him and readied a shot - but the moment of distraction was enough. Like a flash of azure steel, Bree flew through the air. The sound of air being sliced rang out. The archer hit the ground without a sound.

What had moments ago been a battlefield full of chaos was now perfectly still.

Ezra turned to address them both. "The one I fought is still alive."