Return of the Legendary Runesmith-Chapter 520 - 519- Spared

The moment Annabelle entered the room, she faltered for half a heartbeat. Only two men sat inside. No guards. No backup. Just the two of them—one familiar, one not.

"So, you are the cause of the chaos outside."

The bald man in the purple cloak spoke calmly from behind the desk, the hue of his robe subtly different from the other Acolytes.

Clark sat nearby, slouched in his chair, unbothered and visibly dazed.

Annabelle unhooked her blades and let them hang loosely at her sides. "Sad to see the other dickheads aren’t here."

The base leader let out a soft chuckle. "Who were you exactly expecting?"

Annabelle shrugged. "Not exactly someone. And it’s not like I’m disappointed either." She lifted a finger and pointed toward the old man by the wall. "The one I came for is here."

The Runesmith finally looked up. His eyes were sunken, sharp despite their age.

"So my daughter sold me out, huh?" he said flatly. "Not something I didn’t expect. Everyone pities the lost one, but the moment they try to fix themselves, to improve, the world suddenly decides they’re evil."

His hands clenched at his sides, veins bulging. "I worked for years on this project. Years. I sacrificed everything to help people. Public welfare was always my goal. But that bastard—"

She snapped.

Thunder detonated through the room as Annabelle surged forward. Her body blurred, space tearing around her as she appeared in front of Clark, blade arcing in a brutal side slash meant to take his head clean off.

Her strike never landed.

Her body locked mid-air, muscles screaming as an unseen force crushed down on her. Not just her blades, but her entire frame froze as if caught in iron.

She snarled and twisted her head toward the other man.

He stood now, one hand raised, eyes burning with a dark, oppressive intensity.

"Now, now," he said calmly. "You can’t just lunge at my guest and expect me to do nothing."

Annabelle bared her teeth. Mana surged through her veins, thunder spilling from her skin in violent waves, crackling like blood pouring from unseen wounds.

The Acolyte clicked his tongue. "You’re insistent, aren’t you?"

"Gah!"

Her breath hitched as something constricted around her neck. Nothing visible. Nothing she could sense. Telekinesis. And at this level...

She hadn’t expected this.

Grinding her teeth, she forced mana through her body. The runes etched into her blades flared to life, blazing white-blue. A rippling surge of thunder tore through the floor, splitting stone and scorching the ground as it raced outward.

Clark barely reacted in time, springing from his chair as lightning singed past his leg.

The entire building groaned. The walls trembled. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling in choking clouds.

The Acolyte exhaled slowly. "That was unnecessary."

He raised his other hand.

The collapsing structure froze mid-fall, shattered stone and broken beams hanging suspended in the air, held together by nothing but his will.

Annabelle’s muscles coiled, a wild grin tugging at her lips as she let her weapons slip from her hands.

A whisper brushed against her ear.

"Will it. Don’t force it. You’ll end up hurting the one you wish to protect."

Her body stilled for a fleeting moment. The memory surfaced unbidden.

Ariana’s shattered arm.

The ambush.

Annabelle drew in a slow breath and forced the chaos down. The white-blue lightning crawling over her skin receded, sinking back into her veins.

The Acolyte scoffed. "Finally giving up?"

Annabelle lifted her head.

Her eyes blazed with blue thunder.

The Acolyte’s breath hitched as he felt it—the sudden resistance pressing back against his telekinetic grip.

"H-How is she getting stronger?!"

Alarm flashed across his face as he released his hold on the building entirely, focusing everything on her. A collapsing structure wouldn’t kill him. This thing would.

Annabelle’s fingers twitched. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled one arm free, as if tearing herself out of an invisible frame. Then the other.

"Gah! Stay still!" the sorcerer shouted, pouring every ounce of strength he had into restraining her.

The pressure slammed her backward, suspending her in the air once more, arms forced wide.

And then—it happened again.

The resistance surged.

The same unyielding strength pushed back, grinding against his power like a rising storm that refused to be contained.

Annabelle curled in on herself, elbows drawing close to her folded knees, and then—

DOOOOM

An invisible wave detonated outward.

The force smashed into both men, tearing them off their feet and hurling them across the room. Their bodies crashed into the far wall with bone-rattling impact, stone cracking under the strain.

Annabelle’s feet touched the ground once more.

The artifact had gone haywire long ago. That was why both of them could see it now—the silent fury etched clearly across her face.

She stepped forward.

Then another.

Kneeling before the Acolyte, her voice dropped to a calm, dreadful whisper.

"Want me to burn every single organ in your body and drag what’s left of you through the town?" She tilted her head slightly. "No? Then tell me where your other bases are."

Despite the terror choking him, the Acolyte bared his teeth. "You think—"

CRACKLE

Her palm slammed into his forehead.

What followed was the most horrifying sound of the night.

"AAAAHHHHH! HELP MEEE!! AGHHHHHH! AAAHHHHHH!"

Clark’s blood ran cold as the screams tore through the room—the death cries of the man who was supposed to protect him. He stumbled back, legs giving out, and began crawling away, scrambling over shattered stone and debris.

Without even glancing in his direction, Annabelle spoke, her tone flat and merciless.

"Try running. See how that ends."

Clark froze. His body trembled, fear and rage twisting together in his chest.

How could he—the greatest Runesmith—be reduced to this? Humiliated, helpless, and threatened by someone for the second time in a single day.

Just after she finished with the acolyte, Annabelle stood up and turned towards the other person.

Clark raised his hands, "Wait...you can’t kill me...I haven’t done anything wrong? I wasn’t involved in their plans or anything, just came to say hi to an old friend, that’s it."

Annabelle sighed, her aura diminishing, "You are right...but not because I don’t have any evidence against you, I am sparing you because of your daughter."

Clark took a deep breath, finally, a ray of hope.

Annabelle narrowed her eyes and told him, "But don’t you dare conspire against my Darling. Ever."

Clark lowered his head and instantly said, "I swear on my life."

Like hell he would listen to this bitch. He has realised today that these Acolytes would be of no use. He would create his own tools of destruction to directly attack the Runebound academy and would make sure not the soldiers but the students die.

That would be the biggest blow he would land on that asshole.

Meanwhile, Annabelle has already reached the window.

Edward finally decided to get up and leave as soon as possible before the building collapsed.

But then, he felt a sharp sensation on his neck.

The next thing he felt was heat on his throat and his vision shifting.

He saw his vision falling, while his feet remained rooted.

The realisation struck.

He was beheaded.

And the last thing Borodicus Clark saw before his death was a menacing smile.

A smile of mockery.

°°°°°°°°

A/N:- Man really thought he would try harming her Darling and of all people Annabelle would spare him.