Chapter 889  The Fateful Potion      

With every strike, Lorelai effortlessly outmaneuvered Elena, showcasing superior blade techniques and combat prowess.

Elena struggled to keep pace, her movements growing increasingly desperate as she attempted to defend against Lorelai’s relentless onslaught.

Sweat beaded on her brow as she fought to hold her ground against the formidable opponent before her.

Fortunately, Ren and Evie lent their magical aid, lightening her burden.

Evie wove illusions, filling the surroundings with multiple manifestations of Elena, Ren, and Evie themselves, attempting to confuse Lorelai, granting Ren precious moments to cast his spell.

The battle continued with an intensity that crackled through the air like electricity.

Lorelai’s body pulsated with an otherworldly glow, and she shattered the illusions surrounding her with a mere flicker of her wrist.

She then launched herself towards Evie, only to be intercepted by Elena’s blade.

“Where are you going? I’m your opponent,” Elena declared, her voice a sharp contrast to the chaos that ensued around them.

Evie was undeterred when Lorelai broke her illusions, and she conjured another illusion, this time a mesmerizing swirl of butterflies that engulfed Lorelai, their delicate beauty belying the potent charm spell woven within.

But Lorelai broke through the enchantment with a force that sent ripples through the fabric of reality.

“Her defense and anti-debuffs are strong,” Evie muttered, frustration evident in the click of her tongue.

Undaunted, Evie attempted to weave more illusions, each one more intricate and beguiling than the last.

Yet Lorelai effortlessly dispelled them with a mere glance, and a spell of her own.

Realizing the futility of their efforts, Elena and Evie reluctantly retreated, their combined strength no match for Lorelai’s strength.

“You two, stay back!” Ren’s sudden command cut through the chaos like a thunderclap.

With a swift gesture, Ren pointed his scepter towards Lorelai, channeling the raw power of the elements into a spell of unparalleled magnitude.

Arcs of lightning danced along the length of the scepter, converging into a blinding surge of energy that lanced towards Lorelai with an intensity that threatened to rend reality itself.

The spell struck Lorelai’s head with a deafening crack, sending shockwaves rippling through the air as she staggered under the force of the impact.

For a moment, it seemed as though time itself held its breath, the very fabric of existence trembling in anticipation.

And then, with a sudden clarity that cut through the maelstrom of chaos . . . Lorelai merely shook her head and glared at Ren.

“No way. It didn’t work?” Elena asked.

“Just what did that guy do to her?” Evie muttered, her voice laced with concern as she watched Lorelai’s angry face.

Ren remained silent, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation. He knew that their task was far from easy.

Despite the raw power of his spell, it had barely grazed the surface of Lorelai’s enormous HP.

In the first place, defeating her wouldn’t guarantee her return to her senses; in fact, Ren harbored a deep-seated fear that if they were to kill her, she would be lost to them forever.

The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the answers they sought lay with Nyxos.

A fleeting glance towards Nyxos revealed a scene of intense conflict, the dark figure locked in a fierce battle with Azazel and Iraelyn.

Ren pondered the possibility that if they were to defeat Nyxos, perhaps Lorelai would be freed from his control.

But was he truly controlling her? Ren couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the recesses of his mind.

Yet, it seemed to be the only viable option. After all, in most games, defeating the final boss often resulted in the liberation of NPCs from their influence.

“It’s got to be,” Ren muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the din of battle. “That’s how the game usually works.”

With a resolute nod, Ren steeled himself for the daunting task ahead. The fate of Lorelai and the prospect of opening up the heaven realm rested squarely on his actions and decisions from this point onward.

On the sidelines, Pamela remained hidden in the shadows, her heart pounding with fear and nervousness for being caught and get dragged into the fight.

“So that’s Lorelai,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of combat. “How . . . how powerful, and beautiful. She’s like a major God. If anyone could have her powers, then being a Paragon is no longer a dream.”

Pamela couldn’t help but shiver at the thought.

The implications of Lorelai’s might were staggering, and she could only pray that Ren and the others would emerge victorious in their struggle to reclaim her and return her to their realm.

The mere presence of Lorelai in their realm would undoubtedly unsettle the balance of power among the gods, potentially even sparking a catastrophic war for control over her abilities.

“If anyone were to learn how she could control both light and darkness, and became a Paragon . . .” Pamela’s thoughts trailed off, the implications too dire to contemplate.

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope sparked within Pamela’s mind as she remembered the item Whispera had entrusted to her.

It was meant to be a last resort, a life-saving measure that could potentially alter the course of their entire realm’s destiny.

Perhaps Whispera, heard the future from the lips of some God of the future or something, and decided to intervene.

Though Whispera had instructed her to open the box only upon reaching Nyxos’s territory, Pamela realized that the time for hesitation had passed.

With trembling hands, she retrieved the box from her knapsack and carefully pried it open.

A soft pink light bathed Pamela’s face as she peered inside, her eyes widening in astonishment as she beheld its content — a potion, its ethereal glow hinting at the untold power it contained within.

“What’s this?” Pamela’s fingers trembled as she picked up the small potion, scrutinizing it with furrowed brows.

A note affixed to the back caught her attention, and she read its contents with growing confusion.

[When the situation looks dire, smash this bottle onto Azazel’s head.

with love, Whispera.]

. . .

. . .

Was the Goddess playing a prank on her?

Was this really the time for that?! Pamela lamented.