Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 41
Chapter 41 – Out of Control (1)
The witch’s knees buckled beneath her as she sank to the ground. She laid stiff atop the dead branches, paralyzed and she could not lift even her finger. She tried to move her body to no avail, causing pools of sweat to bead on her skin. Her limbs trembled from the futile effort, her heart drumming loudly in her ears. She sensed someone moving behind her from the soft vibrations thumping the earth.
It was the mad woman she snatched from the saints. She was still struggling on her knees but looked like she was not affected at all.
Can ordinary people not feel it? Were they exempted from the paralyzing grip the witch was currently feeling?
Black mists filled the surroundings eerily and it was a foreboding sight— one laden with premonition. The strange man in front of her brought about the hazy fog, casting the space around them a sinister, frightening air.
The black mist enclosed the witch; and she felt like her body was being squeezed, as if a heavy, invisible force weighing hundreds of kilos were pressing down on her. Her breaths caught in her throat, her lungs thrashing from the lack of oxygen and she was nearing close to hallucination.
“Please, p-please let me go… I don’t know… I have angered you…” The witch choked.
She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she could hear soft, unexplainable wisps of air murmuring in her ears before it penetrated her mind sharply. It engulfed her mind ceaselessly like an inescapable smoke, driving her crazy.
The witch hugged her head, her fingers clutching tightly to her disheveled hair. She let out a pitiful moan like a dying animal as she began to pull her locks from her scalp.
She was already losing it.
The mad woman broke free from the twine that restrained her hands. She scrambled clumsily towards the witch and grabbed her ankle, making the witch look at her with despair. “S-save me… It hurts.. It hurts so much…”
The woman looked at the witch, and she saw eyes looking at her with intense desperation, asking for her help. However, the eyes filled with pleading turned to a frightening one in the next second, like a light switch that had been flickered on.
The witch grabbed the woman and dragged her by the wrist. She placed her thin hands onto the latter’s neck, choking the life out of her so mercilessly that blue veins started to show on the woman’s face.
“Ughhhh!” The man woman croaked, spit forming on her lips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as tried to wretch the witch’s hands away.
The two tumbled on the pile of dead leaves. The bugs scattered in panic as they evacuated the ongoing commotion, passing the strange man perched under a tree trunk hurriedly.
The witch’s expressions shifted rapidly like black turning to white and vice-versa. She sometimes held madness to her features, the grip she had with the woman growing tighter before coming back to her senses once again, the grip loosening its hold. Her expressions changed back and forth maddeningly, scaring the woman out of her wits.
The witch gritted her teeth and forced a sentence out. “Run… Run away! Leave!” It looked like she was battling with herself, trying to push out the evil that possessed her.
The mad woman was near suffocation, and she was about to face her death when the witch forcibly retracted her hand away, heaving loudly before dashing out of the forest away from the woman and Alfonso.
Her footsteps grew smaller until it could no longer be heard.
Left alone in the company of Alfonso, the mad woman held her neck as she breathed a lungful of air. She let out a series of coughs, turning to her side with her face against the grass.
Alfonso, who spent his time staring at the blade for a long time, turned and glanced at the struggling woman, looking at her like she was nothing but an insignificant bug. “Throw her out of here, as far as possible.”
The tentacles slithered towards the mad woman, wrapping her up on its embrace and pulled her away like Alfonso told them to. They went back after the disposal and gathered some leaves as they muttered, “wipe your hands, wipe your hands.”
Alfonso ignored the tentacles and pushed them away impatiently. The blood that exuded the woman’s familiar scent flowed to his fingertips as it blended into his skin, disappearing after a few seconds.
The tentacles felt defeated at their owner’s lack of appreciation. They dropped the leaves back to the ground and disappeared by becoming one with their master’s body again.
The forest fell into silence.
Sunlight streamed in the middle of the forest, and a few rays of light caught the blade, reflecting the elf’s handsome features on the smooth metal.
Alfonso was irritated, breaking the blade in two with one hand as he muttered to himself, “Piece of trash.”
