Chapter 264: Chapter 264: Angel Of Death

One of the Blessed behind Adrian hesitantly spoke up.

"We were thinking of waiting it out, my lady. Maybe if we just hold position until the anti-mana in the snow dissipates on its own, we could—"

Adrian cut him off with a grim shake of his head.

"That won’t be possible." He said, his voice heavy. "By the time the anti-mana fades, those trapped below will have suffocated. There’s no air down there, no heat. They won’t survive more than a few hours."

He let out a bitter, humorless chuckle.

"We’ve already run through every plan we can think of. We even called for backup from the other districts, but it’ll take them hours to reach us. By then..."

He trailed off, his silence finishing the thought.

The crowd’s despair deepened. Some began crying openly; others just stared into the snow, their faces hollow. Children sobbed into their grandparents’ coats.

It had been just another family holiday, a day meant for laughter and skiing and now it looked like they were digging their own relatives’ graves.

The rescuers, too, looked defeated.

They had the equipment, the will, the strength—but not the means.

It wasn’t the digging that was the hardest part.

It was that they had no way of knowing where to dig.

The avalanche had scattered everything; their scanning tools couldn’t penetrate the anti-mana snow. Even if they dug frantically for hours, they’d just be stabbing blindly into the white void.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of wind howling through the broken resort.

But Fauna on the other hand didn’t look frightened as she already knew what to do and that was to...

...look straight at Mika.

Her expression softened, those same pleading, puppy-dog eyes he knew all too well shimmering up at him. She even clasped her hands near her chest, tilting her head ever so slightly like a guilty child asking for candy.

Seeing this, Mika groaned immediately. He pressed a hand over his eyes and muttered,

"Don’t you dare. Don’t give me that look."

But her eyes grew even wider until finally—

"Fine, fine." He sighed in defeat, dragging his hand down his face. "You don’t have to show me those eyes anymore. You win."

"Now that you’ve dragged me all the way out here, I can’t exactly just stand around doing nothing, can I?"

He exhaled sharply before saying with finality,

"I’ll take care of it."

Though he’d said it quietly, meant only for Fauna’s ears—his voice carried in the cold air and dozens of people nearby heard him.

Heads turned immediately.

"He said he’ll take care of it..." Someone whispered.

"Wait—what? That boy?"

"Does he have a plan?"

A murmur rippled through the crowd, spreading from group to group until every pair of eyes was fixed on Mika.

Hope...fragile and desperate, sparked among some of them.

Others, however, frowned, doubt filling their faces.

"You’ve got to be kidding." Someone muttered.

"He’s just some boy. What is he going to do?"

"What is he rambling about? Does he think he’s special just because he’s with Lady Fauna?"

And then a mocking laugh cut through the air.

"Ha! Did I just hear that right?" A rough voice jeered. "You? Take care of this? What the hell are you talking about, kid?"

Everyone turned toward the source—a tall Blessed standing with two others, all wearing the insignia of the Federation.

The speaker, a blond man with a smug grin, sneered at Mika.

"You think you’re going to handle this mess on your own? When even the official rescue teams can’t do a damn thing? Don’t make me laugh."

The man beside him joined in, snickering.

"It’s not good to give people false hope, kid. I get that you want to play the hero, but this isn’t a fairy tale. You’re just making things worse."

A third one, more muscular, cracked his knuckles and growled.

"Honestly, just looking at your face pisses me off. Saying stuff like that at a time like this...who the hell do you think you are? Get lost, brat."

Gasps and whispers spread among the crowd.

Mika, however, didn’t react. His expression didn’t change; he simply watched them with faint amusement, as if he’d already figured them out.

Federation dogs, he thought. He recognized their tone immediately—men who thought themselves powerful because of their status, men who bowed to noble houses and sought favor from the higher powers who still feared the Battle Angels.

And now, seeing Mika standing beside Fauna, they saw an easy target.

They wouldn’t dare insult her directly—she was too revered, too dangerous—but mocking the boy next to her?

That was safe enough.

At least, they thought so.

They had no idea how wrong they were.

Because the moment the words ’brat’ and ’get lost’ left their mouths, a voice colder than the snowstorm glided through the air.

"What...did you just say about my baby boy?"

Every sound in the valley stopped.

The three men froze as an unnatural chill crept across their skin. At first, it was just a prickling sensation—like frostbite beginning to set in—but then the color drained from their faces as they looked down.

Their skin was turning blue.

Then purple.

Then black.

In seconds, patches of rot spread across their arms and faces. The flesh began to wrinkle and split, releasing a nauseating, sickly smell.

"AHHHHHH!" One of them screamed as the skin on his hand peeled like burnt paper.

"What—what’s happening?!" Another tried to wipe it off, only for his fingers to come away stained black. "My skin—my skin!"

"Make it stop! Please!"

"My skin! What’s happening!?"

"Stop it—someone help! HELP!"

The crowd recoiled in horror, stepping back as the men’s bodies seemed to decay before their eyes.

"Help us! Someone, please! It hurts—it burns!"

Despite their desperate cries, no one dared approach them, fearing contagion. They looked about to die, the blackness consuming their bodies.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, a firm voice broke through.

"Hold on there, Fauna."

"We need manpower right now. It won’t help anyone if you start killing the rescuers."

Instantly, the rotting stopped.

The blackened patches on their skin began to fade, color slowly returning as they collapsed to the ground, trembling and gasping.

And the moment everything went back to normal, all eyes turned to source of this disruption.

Fauna.

She stood motionless in the snow, her expression cold and terrifyingly calm. Her usual bright green eyes were dull now—fogged, almost grayish.

Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and the faint golden aura that once radiated from her had turned dark.

Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

It was obvious what had happened: the moment she heard her the boy next to her being insulted, Fauna hadn’t hesitated to take lethal action.

And they knew if that same boy they mocked hadn’t stopped her, they were certain they would have just watched three B-ranked Blessed, usually praised for their power, rot away like flies in a matter of seconds.

And even though the entire crowd was shocked by Fauna’s transformation and the horrifying display of power she had unleashed, the one truly frozen in disbelief was Cecilia.

She had worked alongside Fauna for over a year—seen her every day smiling, laughing softly as she encouraged her team, always patient and endlessly kind.

Even when the most difficult cases came to her, Fauna handled them with calm grace, never raising her voice, never scolding, always seeking a peaceful solution.

Cecilia had admired that about her. To her, Fauna wasn’t just a superior, she was a model of what a healer should be.

But what she had just witnessed...was something else entirely.

In mere seconds, that same gentle woman had turned into something terrifying.

A goddess of pestilence.

A saint who could bring death just as easily as she could give life.

And she hadn’t even hesitated. Her expression hadn’t flinched; her voice hadn’t trembled. She looked ready to kill them all, to reduce them to corpses in the snow

It horrified her.

People had always called Fauna the Plague Maiden, but Cecilia had never understood why.

Fauna was a healer, a savior—a bringer of light, not plague. She had dismissed the rumors that her curse-born powers were stronger than her blessings as mere superstition.

But now, she knew they were true.

As much as Fauna could heal, she could also destroy.

As much as she could be a saint, she could be an angel of death.

And that duality, so radiant and yet so terrifying, made Cecilia tremble.

Mika, meanwhile, stood calmly beside Fauna, sighing quietly to himself.

’They just had to provoke her.’

People who didn’t know her well often misunderstood Fauna.

They saw her soft smiles, her bubbly laughter, her affectionate nature, and assumed she was harmless—someone who would forgive anything and avoid conflict at all costs.

And for the most part, that was true.

Fauna was a pacifist through and through. She loved peace, sought harmony, and always tried to mediate between sides. No matter how grave the disagreement, she would rather talk than fight.

But that all changed when it involved him.

The moment Mika entered the picture, every rule of restraint vanished. Logic, patience, mercy, they all evaporated the instant someone insulted or threatened him.

And what replaced them was this.

A side of Fauna that not many had seen before—back in the war, when she had wiped out entire legions of soldiers by spreading plague through the wind, leaving cities silent and rotting overnight.

Even Yelena was more restrained, offering harsh warnings first, and Nadia had a level of understanding for human foolishness.

Fauna, on the other hand, did not care.

It was as if, when Mika was concerned, one part of her rational mind shut off, and a much darker side emerged. The side that had terrified even her allies.

That darkness never truly disappeared. She had only buried it deep inside, sealing it away beneath her cheerfulness. But it was still there—waiting.

And all it took was one insult toward Mika to awaken it.

Now, though, her fury had subsided. Mika’s presence alone seemed to ground her, and under his quiet touch, her breathing steadied.

Slowly, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and when she opened them again, her bright emerald hue returned.

Yet her expression had changed—no longer soft or gentle, but solemn, composed, and terrifyingly regal.

She looked over the crowd slowly, one face at a time. Even without saying a word, her gaze alone was enough to silence everyone.

No one dared to meet her eyes—not even the other Blessed, who looked down like guilty children caught in sin. They had just witnessed her true power, and they all knew she could end every life here without effort.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"Listen to Mika."

Her voice was steady, clear, carrying over the snow-covered silence.

"If you want your friends and family back, if you want to save the people buried beneath this mountain, then you will do exactly as he says."

She paused, her tone dropping, colder than ice.

"Otherwise..."

The unfinished threat was enough. Everyone gulped. Even those who had mocked Mika before were trembling now, nodding frantically.

The kind-hearted saint was gone...replaced by someone divine and absolute.

And from that moment onward, no one dared to question Mika again.

Instead, all eyes turned toward him, filled with hope and desperation.

And seeing their gazes he sighed before finally saying,

"Alright...I do have a plan."

Instantly, the crowd erupted in hopeful gasps.

Dozens of eyes lit up as if a spark had returned to their souls.

"But..." He added, raising a hand. "I’ll need everyone’s help. Every pair of hands. This isn’t going to be easy and it’s going to be exhausting. But if we work together, we can save them."

At once, voices rose from every direction:

"Of course! We’ll do anything!"

"I’ll dig all day if I have to!"

"Just tell us what to do!"

"I’ll carry a hundred pounds of snow if that’s what it takes!"

The hopelessness from before was gone. In its place burned raw determination.

Mika smiled faintly.

"Good." He said. "That’s the spirit I need."

But then Adrian, still trying to remain composed despite the tension, stepped forward.

"Mika—if you don’t mind me calling you that." He began carefully, glancing nervously toward Fauna. "I’d like to remind you...none of us can use our blessings right now. The anti-mana in the snow makes all of them useless. If your plan involves magic or abilities, I’m afraid it won’t work."

He said it as gently as possible. But his body was rigid, his posture cautious.

One wrong word, he knew, and Fauna might tear him apart where he stood.

Mika simply smiled and waved his hand dismissively.

"Don’t worry about that." He assured him. "Even if this Anti-Mana wasn’t there, I would have come up with a solution where I didn’t use mana or blessings at all. It’s much better for me that way."

Adrian was confused. Why would anyone opt not to use their power in a life-or-death situation?

Mika, however, was thinking differently as using his abilities too much causes a massive mental strain, which he would rather avoid if possible.

Not to mention it was opening a direct line to the Will of the World, which he didn’t mind, but didn’t want to provoke either.

For him, the perfect, safest solution was to solve the problem without using any blessing or mana-based ability in the first place and that was what he was going to do now.