Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 151: The Last Bomb

Lightning streaked across the sky, waiting for no man.

Abram was a streak of pure energy, his body a blinding arc of white as he shot towards the battle raging up in the sky. Freedom, the blade that had been passed down from father to child in the Ross family, hummed with power in his grip.

His friend, Thomas, had fallen, and the sky could not be left empty without a powerhouse. He could see the Underwood Soldiers forming a protective barrier around their lord, even as Druids and Knight clashed in brutal close quarters, around them.

He looked away, focusing back on where he was going. Above, the sky belonged to him. And to two others.

Kael was the first to lunge. His dragon roared, twisting through the sky with terrifying speed. The warrior's sickle flew forward, the long chain attached to its hilt whistling as it spun.

Abram streaked out of the path of the sickle, reforming in the air to the left. He swung Freedom, its edge cutting not just through the air, but through the very force of the wind Kael's dragon used to bank.

That was what Freedom could do. It could cut anything. Anything.

Kael barely dodged, yanking on the chain wrapped around his arm and redirecting his sickle at the last moment to loop around Abram's wrist. He yanked.

Abram transformed again, a bolt of lightning zipping backward just as Bellamy came crashing down with his berry-enhanced axe. The blade carved through the air, releasing a shockwave that sent the air howling around them.

Bellamy and Kael worked in tandem. They circled, darting forward like twin predators.

Bellamy's dragon roared, a pillar of white hot flame erupting from its mouth. Kael's dragon tried to box Abram in as it banked, spewing acidic mist.

Abram danced through their attacks, flickering across the sky in streaks of white.

He reformed behind Kael, slashing. The barbarian twisted to the side, lightning fast, but Abram was faster. Freedom surged downward, missing Kael and sliced through the edge of the dragon's wing.

Kael cursed, his beast screaming in pain, tilting off-balance.

Abram's eyes widened as a gust of wind fluttered his hair. Bellamy was behind him. He twisted, Freedom coming up to barely deflect Bellamy's axe, the force sending him spinning.

He corrected mid-air, transforming and reforming to bleed momentum and control his movements. He streaked straight towards Bellamy, Freedom meeting the war axe.

There was a loud crack as Bellamy's axe shattered, the impact sending a shockwave booming through the heavens.

The chief snarled, diving out of the way of Abram's second strike. He reached to the side of his saddle, pulling out a smaller axe as Abram gave chase.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted a shadow and swung back to the streak that was Abram. The man reformed, midswing, but before he could complete it, Kael appeared out of nowhere, his sickle catching Abram's shoulder and cutting through the armor.

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Blood sprayed, and Abram grimaced, gripping the chain attached to the sickle. He reversed the force and yanked Kael straight toward him. Kael came flying, and Abram met him mid-air, elbow first.

There was a crack of bone as Kael's nose broke. Before the scarred man could recover, Abram plunged Freedom through the dragon's neck. The beast shrieked and began to spiral. Kael screamed, still tangled in the chain.

They fell.

Abram didn't watch.

Bellamy roared and swung, his dragon crashing into Abram's from the side. Abram transformed, slipping through as Bellamy's new axe passed through where his neck had been.

By the time he reformed, Bellamy was running away, heading for the ground. He streaked towards the man, reforming at his side. Bellamy banked away, each time Abram reformed, moving faster than the reformed man could swing.

Abram narrowed his eyes at the game of cat and mouse and focused. Freedom hummed in his grip, ready to cut through the very laws of the world.

With a diagonal slash, he severed the wind, creating a vacuum that threw Bellamy off-balance.

He twisted, spinning mid-air and swinging again, this time, the slash cut the gravity around them. Bellamy's dragon stopped in mid air, floating as it flapped its wings, trying to do more than float.

It roared, before Abram impaled it clean through the head. It thrashed once, then died.

Bellamy dived off his falling dragon, tumbling through the air to land hard on the scattered weapons of dead warriors.

Blood seeped from his ribs, as he staggered to his feet, swaying.

Abram streaked through the sky to reform in front of him, his armor painted in blood, and his breathing ragged. Freedom's edge shimmered with heat.

"It's over, Bellamy. The Tribe of Three's crusade ends here." Abram said.

Bellamy's laugh had no trace of humor in it. He coughed blood but still grinned. "You're right, Abram, but not in the way you're thinking. It truly is over but this is just the beginning."

Abram's eyes narrowed.

Bellamy wiped his mouth. "We knew we couldn't beat you. Not with strength. So we planned ahead. A last barrel. A special one. Five times stronger than the rest. Guess where it is."

Bellamy's grin was bloody. "One of my druids took it. Slipped past the edge of the battle while everyone, including you, were distracted."

Abram stepped forward, a flicker of panic building in his chest.

Bellamy grinned wider. "He's above Ross Castle right now."

Abram's heart stopped.

Bellamy's eyes flicked past him to Ross castle behind him. "Ah. There it is. He's dropped it. Say goodbye to your wife."

Lightning exploded.

Abram shot into the sky, a desperate comet streaking across the battlefield. The wind screamed around him as a sonic boom filled the air. Below, both armies paused, glancing skyward.

Then, the world exploded.

Blinding white light filled the air.

Ren, still blinking between soldiers on the battlefield, turned just in time to see it.

The sky above the castle lit up as if a second sun had been born. A heartbeat later, the explosion reached them.

The earth shook.

The air howled.

And the Ross Castle, which had stood proud for generations, cracked in two.

A chasm split beneath its foundations. With a loud groan of stone, the castle collapsed into the darkness, buried in the smoking ruins.

Silence.

Then Bellamy, still bleeding, still swaying on his feet, laughed again. Mad and broken.

The curse was gone.