Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Chapter 154: _Fatal Mistake

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Chapter 154: _Fatal Mistake

Celeste’s POV

*****

Luther moved, his figure like a blur of white light as he approached Caelum. My brother was still trying to hold off the blast of flames from Inari, which grew in intensity and heat.

Before Luther could take the opportunity to come for Caelum, I reacted, stretching out my right hand like a whip. A rope made of silver light appeared, shooting toward him in the nick of time.

As the rope wrapped around Luther, Caelum slipped away from the fire onslaught. He growled, claws sprouting from his fingers as he got on all fours.

He didn’t shift into his wolf because he didn’t need to. My brother bringing out his wolf in a fight like this would be overkill. His was almost as monstrous as our father’s.

A swipe of his hand knocked back Inari until she rolled through the floor. But then another witch stepped forward, raising his hands. With a clench of his fists, chains emerged from the ground around Caelum.

"Out of my way." Lysandra bumped past my shoulder making me stumble, my magic rope spell flickering.

The Australian princess didn’t give a shit, shifting into her wolf. A lean and agile-looking beast with blue fur and eyes that glowed like stars.

She charged for Azrael—who probably seemed like the weak link because of how he stood in place.

Fatal mistake.

Just when my magic rope broke and Luther burst free with a snarl, Azrael raised his chin. Lysandra was a few meters away from him, leaping into the air with her jaw wide open.

"No fatal attacks!" The professor’s voice tore through the flood of cheers and roars from the crowd. "Any fatal attacks will automatically get you eliminated—"

Those words faded when Azrael’s shadow elongated on the ground behind him, swallowing it in complete darkness. Shadow tendrils crept out, binding Lysandra’s limbs just when her mouth was about to close on Azrael’s head.

Another tendril wrapped around her jaw, dragging her to the arena floor like a puppet.

"Celeste!" My brother’s cry made me tear my gaze from Lysandra.

His warning came in time, letting me dodge a Hunter’s arrow by only a hair. More arrows followed, their tips blunt but packed with energy sigils that would knock me out upon impact.

I traced the source of the arrows to a male Hunter across the arena, a dangerous smile on his face as his hand moved at lightning speed.

My wolf instincts came in handy for the first time in a battle, letting me fluidly dodge each arrow. They stuck to the ground around me, but I didn’t let my focus leave the Hunter.

"When did her reflexes get so good?" A female voice exclaimed from the audience.

"Look at how she’s moving."

"That doesn’t seem like a spell."

I ignored the commotion, a cold smile on my face when I saw the Hunter run out of arrows. A movement sigil glowed on his arm; the guy was probably planning an escape.

I didn’t let him, flicking my wrist once. The arrows stuck to the ground glowed with a silver light, levitating around me. Another hand movement sent them flying like bullets at the Hunter whose face paled.

BOOM!

The Hunter was hit by most of them point-blank, an explosion of silver and white light covering him. He got flung backwards, slamming onto the force dome and falling unconscious.

"Hunter Sam eliminated!" The professor declared as the hunter disappeared from the arena with a flash of light.

Silence fell not just within the arena, but the entire hall. Most of the fighters paused, turning to see who had been eliminated already. And who was responsible.

AKA, yours truly.

For half a second, no one moved.

Then chaos resumed.

"Lysandra!" The senior hybrid suddenly barked.

My head snapped toward the other side of the arena just in time to see what she meant. Azrael’s shadow had spread even wider across the floor, the darkness beneath him writhing unnaturally. The tendrils binding Lysandra tightened, dragging her across the ground like a rag doll.

Before Azrael could do anything else, the senior hybrid launched forward.

She slid across the arena floor and slammed both palms down.

A pulse of bright yellow energy erupted outward.

The shadow tendrils snapped apart like threads cut by scissors, releasing Lysandra instantly.

The blue wolf rolled across the floor before scrambling back onto her paws, shaking violently like she was shaking off water.

Across the arena, a hunter didn’t waste the moment.

He rushed Azrael with a sword raised high.

"Watch out!" Someone from the witches’ side shouted.

Azrael didn’t even seem bothered.

The blade came down in a vicious arc—

—and he simply stepped aside.

Not a frantic dodge. Not even a quick one.

Just... fluid.

Like he’d already known where the sword would fall before it moved.

The hunter’s eyes widened as Azrael lifted a hand lazily.

The sword flew from the hunter’s grip as if slapped by an invisible force.

It clattered across the arena floor.

A second later, the hunter himself lifted into the air.

Gasps exploded from the crowd.

The poor guy kicked helplessly as he hung there, suspended like a puppet on invisible strings.

Azrael tilted his head slightly, studying him with mild curiosity.

Then flicked his fingers.

The hunter was thrown aside like discarded luggage.

Meanwhile—

"Behind you!" someone shouted.

I spun just in time to see a witch raising both hands toward Lysandra.

Purple magic crackled between her palms.

The spell shot forward like a spear.

"Shit—!" I reacted without thinking.

My hand snapped out.

Silver light exploded from my palm, slamming into the witch’s spell mid-air.

The collision detonated in a burst of energy that knocked the witch backwards.

She crashed against the arena floor, sliding several feet.

Lysandra blinked at me from where she stood.

For once, she looked genuinely surprised.

"How..." she breathed, still half in wolf form. "How has your magic improved this much?"

I opened my mouth—

And that’s when it happened.

The arena lights flickered erratically.

A strange pressure rippled through my veins like lightning racing beneath my skin.

My magic surged outward.

The witch I’d just hit slammed harder against the ground, unconscious before she could even rise.

A few students gasped.

"What was that...?"

My heart pounded.

Something felt... wrong.

I glanced down at my arms and froze.

Dark sigils burned across my skin. Jagged. Alive. Glowing faintly with black Vein energy.

They vanished almost instantly, gone in the next heartbeat.

No one around me reacted.

No one had seen.

But a cold chill crept down my spine anyway.

Because I had.

’The... the sigils are back?’ I thought to myself as I hid my arms behind my back. ’Gods, no. No, no, no...’

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