The Bigshot's Superstar Wife - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Demonic Corruption

Athena’s hand instinctively went to the blade she kept near her, her knuckles white as she gripped it tightly. That scream sounds like trouble… it must be fun.

“Mors, we don’t even know what’s out there. We can’t just sit here and wait.”

Mors glanced at her and gave a small, confident smile. “Trust me,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through her anxiety. “Stay here. I’ll handle it.”

He moved toward the door, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. The storm outside raged on, the beast’s scream still echoing faintly in the distance.

I need to follow. Athena’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched him prepare. This time, it seemed fate had decided to test them once more.

An hour had passed since Mors had ventured out into the storm. The rain still pounded relentlessly on the roof, and the howling wind rattled the hut’s walls.

The camera bots, now dormant, signaled the end of the live stream, leaving Athena alone in the dimly lit interior.

Time to move… Her expression shifted, and the fear that had flickered in her eyes earlier was replaced by an icy calm. My bones have rusted enough.

The transformation was unsettling, her face now devoid of softness, her gaze sharp and unyielding as though she saw the world through a lens of inevitable death.

With deliberate movements, she set the knife she typically kept close at hand on the wooden table. I can finally test my new skills. What a beautiful sword…

The blade gleamed under the faint light of the lantern, a stark contrast to the dark, stormy night outside. Without hesitation, Athena stepped out of the hut.

The cold wind bit at her skin and the rain soaked her instantly, but she seemed unfazed by the chill that would have sent most people retreating indoors.

Her steps were silent, her movements fluid and purposeful as she disappeared into the shadows of the dense forest, becoming one with the night.

The wild cacophony of the storm surrounded her, the crashing thunder masking her footsteps. A touch of coldness…

Leaves and branches dripped with rain, glistening faintly in the occasional flash of lightning. Where are you Mors?

A faint smile curled at her lips, but it was far from one of warmth or joy. It was the smile of someone embracing chaos, a glint of madness beneath her calculated exterior.

Her body moved instinctively, as though driven by a force that had lain dormant for far too long, awakened by the primal scream of the beast earlier that night.

Athena’s mind was sharp, calculating every sound, every shift in the environment around her. She was no longer the woman bound by caution inside the hut.

Mors, stay out of my sight. Out here, in the wild storm, she was something else entirely, someone who thrived in the face of danger, someone who owned the darkness.

Keep yourself busy, my dear, Mors… Lightning illuminated the forest briefly, revealing her figure as she prowled deeper into the woods, a predator searching for prey.

It seems nice to be free once in a while. Within the dense darkness of the storm-laden forest, Athena’s sharp senses stretched far beyond the human norm.

She closed her eyes briefly, attuning herself to the subtle vibrations of life, or the corruption of it, all around her. Yet, no matter how much she focused, she couldn’t sense Mors’ aura.

He’s not here. What she did detect, however, was unsettling, thousands of beasts roamed not far from her location, their presences chaotic and unnervingly erratic.

Her thoughts raced. Something must have disturbed these creatures. Moving swiftly, she climbed a sturdy tree, her soaked hands gripping the rough bark with ease.

With practiced precision, she leaped from one branch to another, her agility unhindered by the storm. Let me see what’s there…

Each jump brought her closer to a vantage point until she finally perched atop the tallest tree she could find.

The howling wind tore at her drenched clothes and hair, but her focus was unwavering. It’s nice to be alive.

Scanning the area, her sharp eyes caught a horrifying sight. Amid the writhing chaos of beasts, one creature stood out, a monstrous being with glowing red eyes. Huh?

A horde of beasts. Its fangs dripped with fresh blood as it tore into the flesh of another beast, its claws rending sinew and bone with terrifying ease.

The beast’s insatiable hunger turned it into a whirlwind of destruction. Its victims, bear-like creatures with thick, shaggy fur, tried to fight back.

But all it took was a single scratch, and the infection spread like wildfire. One by one, the infected turned, their eyes glowing the same malevolent red as their aggressor.

Soon, the forest floor was a grotesque scene of beasts consuming each other, a hellish frenzy of primal instinct twisted by something far darker.

Athena’s jaw tightened as she watched. Zergs? No, the behavior is too erratic. Her mind churned with possibilities.

Could it be demonic corruption? Regardless of the source, she knew one thing for certain, those infected cores would hold pure dark energy, and Arthivian craved it.

The sword’s hunger for such energy was palpable, almost as if it pulsed in anticipation within the depths of her soul.

Without hesitation, Athena leaped from her perch. The wind howled in her ears as she descended, but her focus was unshakable.

Midair, Arthivian materialized in her hand, its blade shimmering with an eerie glow, as if darkness itself had been forged into its razor edge.

The markings etched into the sword gleamed faintly, reacting to the storm and the promise of energy-rich prey below.

She landed with a splash, the mud and rain spattering around her. The beasts were oblivious to her presence, consumed by their cannibalistic frenzy.

She wasted no time, sprinting toward the nearest infected creature. Arthivian’s blade hummed with anticipation as Athena closed the distance.

The sword was not merely a weapon, it was an extension of her will, a conduit for the dark energy she sought to harness.

As she neared her first target, the red-eyed beast turned toward her, its grotesque maw snapping hungrily.

Athena’s lips curled into a fierce smirk, her voice a whisper drowned by the storm, “Let’s see what your core is worth.”

With a graceful yet deadly arc, she swung Arthivian, the blade cutting through the rain-soaked air like a streak of midnight.

“Scream for me…”