The Bigshot's Superstar Wife - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Between Life & Death (Special Chapter)

Alishiera plummeted through the darkness, the weightless void pulling at her like unseen hands desperate to claim her.

The demigod’s illusion had been powerful, crafted to ensnare her mind and soul, but she was stronger. She had always been stronger.

As the abyss reached for her, she forced her consciousness to sharpen, to cut through the haze like a blade through silk.

She could still feel the solid weight of Arthivian in her grasp. The moment before she fell, she had reached for it, and the sword, the sacred relic of her husband, had answered her call.

It was a piece of him, a tether that linked their souls. And through that link, she could still feel it. Devancier was alive.

Perhaps imprisoned. Perhaps suffering. But he still breathed.

That was all she needed to know.

A whisper of power surged from her palms, wrapping around the hilts of Arthivian and Elsienflora.

She crossed the twin blades, uttering a silent prayer, one that reached beyond her body, beyond her own strength. She called upon Devancier.

Light burst from the swords, golden and fierce, banishing the abyss that sought to devour her. It was not a light of mercy, but one of war.

At that moment, her body no longer belonged to just herself. She had borrowed his strength, his instincts, his unrelenting will.

She would pay the price later. The backlash would come, but she did not care.

A solid force met her feet. No longer falling, she landed on a battlefield shrouded in eternal twilight.

The first demigod stood before her.

His form was ethereal yet imposing, a towering being clad in armor that pulsed like living shadows.

His face was concealed, but his eyes, cold, ancient, merciless, burned through the mist.

He had expected her to fail, to be consumed by despair, but instead, she stood before him with both sacred swords in hand.

“Foolish mortal,” he murmured, his voice like rusted chains scraping against stone. “You cannot wield a god’s strength without consequence.”

“I do not fear consequences,” Alishiera answered. “I am here for my husband. Stand aside or die.”

The demigod chuckled, amused by her audacity. Then he attacked.

Darkness roared to life around him, twisting into tendrils sharper than any mortal blade. They lashed toward her, seeking to entangle, to tear her apart. But she was faster.

She met his strike head-on, Arthivian clashing against his obsidian spear while Elsienflora danced in her other hand, carving through the dark tendrils as though they were nothing but mist.

The power borrowed from Devancier surged through her veins, making her movements sharper, more precise.

The demigod staggered. He had underestimated her.

That was his first mistake.

Alishiera pressed forward, forcing him back with relentless strikes. She did not fight like a saintess, she fought like a warrior who had something to protect.

Every movement was decisive, every slash fueled by unwavering faith. Faith in herself. Faith in Devancier. Faith in the love that bound them.

The demigod unleashed a burst of raw magic, the ground beneath them splitting apart, but Alishiera did not retreat.

She embraced the storm, using it against him. She was not merely a warrior. She was a Saintess.

And she had the power to destroy demons.

With a final, blinding strike, she drove both blades through his chest. Divine light erupted from the wound, consuming him from within.

The demigod let out a furious roar, but it was too late. His form shattered, his essence dissolving into nothing.

She had won.

But there was no time to celebrate.

As his body vanished, she saw it, a portal, flickering with unstable energy.

A fragment of his knowledge passed into her mind, a cruel revelation. Devancier was no longer here. He had already been taken.

To the lair of the second demigod.

Her grip on her swords tightened. She had no time to rest, no time to recover. The backlash of borrowing Devancier’s strength gnawed at her bones, but she ignored it.

There was still one final task left in this wretched place.

She turned her gaze to the ruins before her. This lair, the first demigod’s stronghold, needed to be cleansed. If she left it as it was, another force of darkness would rise to claim it.

And she refused to leave behind another war waiting to happen.

Summoning the last reserves of her divine power, she raised Elsienflora high above her head. Light flooded the battlefield.

The ground trembled as golden flames spread outward in a circle, cleansing the tainted land.

Every trace of the demigod’s influence, every lingering remnant of darkness, burned away in holy fire.

She could feel the weight of centuries of suffering lifting as the ruins crumbled into nothingness.

But the exhaustion hit her like a crashing wave. Her knees buckled, and she barely caught herself with Arthivian before collapsing completely.

The backlash was coming in full force now, her veins burned, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Borrowing Devancier’s strength had taken its toll.

Still, she forced herself to stand.

She wasn’t done yet.

Gritting her teeth, she turned toward the flickering portal. The air around it crackled with unstable magic, a gateway leading to unknown horrors. But she didn’t hesitate.

Devancier was waiting for her.

Summoning every last shred of her strength, she stepped forward and disappeared into the light.

As Alishiera stepped through the portal, a violent force pulled at her, twisting reality around her like a vortex of shattered light and shadows.

Her body tensed as waves of energy crashed against her, each pulse draining her already exhausted form.

She gritted her teeth, gripping Arthivian and Elsienflora tightly, forcing herself to endure the crushing pressure.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pull ceased.

She stumbled forward, her boots scraping against stone. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay.

As she steadied herself, she took in her new surroundings, a desolate fortress, built atop jagged cliffs that overlooked a sea of writhing darkness.

The sky above was an eerie crimson, with swirling black clouds that crackled with unnatural lightning.

This was no ordinary battlefield.

This was the second demigod’s domain.

A deep, echoing growl resonated through the air, and Alishiera turned her gaze toward the colossal obsidian gates ahead.

Chains wrapped around them, ancient symbols glowing with malevolent energy. Behind them, she could sense it, a familiar presence.

Her heart pounded. Devancier was here.

She took a deep breath, ignoring the pain lacing her body. She had come this far. She would not stop now.

With unwavering resolve, she raised Arthivian and Elsienflora and took her first step toward battle once more.