Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System! - Chapter 284

Chapter 284: Chione’s Death

The ocean stretched endlessly, a god-sized masterpiece—no, bigger than that. Bigger than anything mortal minds could comprehend, like the universe just dumped all its divinity into one vast, shimmering abyss. The waters weren’t just blue; they shimmered with something untouchable, something holy, like even Zeus himself would hesitate before dipping a toe in.

Above, the sun fought for its life, struggling to claw through the dense darkness that wrapped around everything like a suffocating veil. It wasn’t just regular darkness—it was alive, pulsing, burning with black flames that slithered like vipers, licking at the ocean’s surface with a hunger that felt ancient.

And then came the golden thunder—furious, crackling, splitting the sky apart like some divine tantrum. It wove through the darkness, clashing against the black fire, both refusing to back down, both hellbent on claiming the heavens.

Below, the ocean roared in response, waves thrashing, caught between the war above and the chaos unfolding across its vastness.

Amidst it all, the ice began to melt—fast. Chunks of it, massive as mountains, cracked and collapsed, rushing toward a single point as if the entire frozen world had just gotten the memo that its time was up.

And at the heart of it all—on a rapidly disintegrating ice platform—lay her.

An ice goddess, the most stunningly inhuman being to ever exist. Her very presence crackled with power, a living storm frozen in time.

Her skin was white—no, not pale, not sickly—frozen. Like carved ice, smooth and cold, shimmering under the dim light. Her eyes, shut tight, hid whatever cosmic knowledge lay behind them, as if even death couldn’t strip her of her secrets.

And on her forehead—something grew. A mark, twisting and pulsing, alive with an eerie glow. But then, as if obeying some silent command, that glow died down. What remained was something frozen over, sealed away beneath a layer of ice so thick it looked like it had been caged there for eternity.

Yet, even in her death, she was breathtaking. Otherworldly. The kind of beauty that didn’t belong in a mortal world.

But beauty couldn’t save her.

From the gaping wound in her chest, white blood poured out—but it wasn’t just white anymore. It glowed with a golden radiance, like molten sunlight was leaking from her very soul.

Thick like molten ice, it dripped down her frozen skin in slow, elegant rivers, pooling across her shattered throne of frost. Every drop that hit the crumbling ice beneath her sent out a faint hum, like reality itself was reacting to the loss of something—someone—far too powerful to just die like this.

The air shimmered. The ocean roared. The golden glow of her blood pulsed, illuminating the ice around her, like the universe itself was second-guessing whether or not it was really okay to let her go.

And just like that—she exhaled one last, silent breath.

And then—poof.

She started melting away, the edges of her form turning to mist, dissolving like she’d never been there to begin with. But before her body could vanish completely—it disappeared.

Not melted. Not disintegrated. Just… gone.

Like something—or someone—had snatched her away at the last second.

****

Chione, who had been sitting with her eyes closed, slowly opened them, staring at Atalanta and Cassandra. Both had their chins propped up, waiting—expecting—a full-blown, dramatic retelling of her death like they had just asked her what she had for dinner.

She sighed.

Not the first sigh. Not the last.

This was a memory she fucking hated. A time she had suffered in a way no one should suffer. A thousand years of agony before it all ended at the hands of—

Another sigh.

Atalanta and Cassandra both groaned.

“Bro, spit it out!” Atalanta snapped, throwing her hands up. “You’re out here breathing dramatically like a tragic anime protagonist, and I’m over it. How. Did. You. Die?”

The background noise of the castle didn’t help. The distant shouts of teenagers training, sparring, arguing about who cheated in some dumb fight. Weapons clashed, boots thudded against stone, and somewhere, someone knocked over a goblet and did not bother to pick it up.

A little ways off, Perseus sat comfortably in a high-backed chair, entirely unbothered. He was watching a movie about a mythical hero riding Pegasus, and judging by his stupidly giddy face, this was the happiest he’d been in centuries.

Chione closed her eyes for a second, forcing the past back to the surface.

“It was…” Her voice dropped lower, almost thoughtful. “A tragic death.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “No shit.”

“But,” Chione continued, her tone carrying a deliberate edge of suspense, “I don’t remember much of it. Only…”

She let the words hang for effect.

Atalanta tapped her foot against the stone floor. Cassandra crossed her arms.

“Spit. It. Out.”

Chione exhaled slowly, her gaze distant. “The crackling of hell flames… the all-consuming darkness that swallowed the sky… lightning running through that void like veins of power…”

Neither Cassandra nor Atalanta interrupted this time.

She paused again, but this time, it wasn’t for theatrics. Her hands curled into fists.

“I was lying on a platform of ice, floating on an endless ocean. My ice was melting beneath me. I could feel the cold water rising, swallowing me whole.”

She stopped.

Didn’t say anything else.

Because the rest?

The rest was too much.

****

Parker gripped the wheel, knuckles whitening as he muttered under his breath, voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy enough to weigh down the air inside the car.

“Hell flames. Lightning. Water. Darkness.”

Each word left his mouth like a brick dropping into deep water, sinking fast, dragging everything else down with it. His aura flared—thick, suffocating, dark—rolling off him in waves that made the air feel tight, heavy, wrong.

The inside of the car felt smaller. Claustrophobic.

Atalanta shifted uncomfortably in her seat, arms crossed, one boot tapping restlessly against the floorboard. Tessa sat in the back, her gaze flicking toward the radio like she was debating whether throwing on some music would help, but deep down, they both knew—no song could fix this shit.

Even the streetlights outside seemed to flicker slower, their glow passing over the windshield in drawn-out flashes like the entire world had decided to tiptoe around whatever the hell was brewing inside Parker’s head.

The car engine hummed, tires rolling smoothly against the asphalt, but the silence between them was loud.

Tension sat in the backseat like a fourth passenger, uninvited and impossible to ignore.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody dared.

The only thing moving was the needle on the speedometer as Parker drove, jaw locked, hands steady, but his aura? It was anything but.