Chapter 184 | This Healer Is Built Different

The two fully armed attackers were like fragile paper, instantly torn to shreds by the brutal force of the giant axe. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the ground beneath her feet.

Phoebe stood in the pool of blood, gripping her massive axe tightly as she looked down at the two mangled corpses at her feet.

The corpses lay face down in the gravel, their backs caved in from the devastating impact of the giant axe. Blood pooled and spread from their bodies, seeping into the soil and staining the ground a dark, crimson black.

Her body began to tremble. The wild, violent power building up deep inside her surged recklessly through her veins, desperate for an outlet.

She slowly raised her head, her gaze locking onto the distant black-robed man. The grief, anger, fear, and helplessness accumulated in her heart transformed entirely into a torrential wave of hostility, pouring out from her blood-red pupils.

She walked forward with steady steps, dragging the dripping battleaxe behind her. The blade scraped against the gravel, kicking up showers of harsh sparks and sending an ear-piercing screech through the air.

“The Hero?” Behind the carriage curtain, the blonde girl's pupils dilated slightly as she whispered, her voice so soft it was barely audible even to herself. “Silver hair... a giant axe... It’s exactly like the prophecy...”

The black-robed man's face shifted dramatically. A flash of wariness and malice crossed his eyes, and he hurriedly gestured for his forces to redeploy.

Seven or eight of the black-clad attackers immediately broke away from the battlefield, closing in from all sides to surround Phoebe.

Phoebe did not stop. Holding the giant axe across her chest, she swung it in a wide arc, instantly cleaving through the enemy charging directly at her. Warm blood splattered across her silver-white hair.

When an attacker lunged from the side, she spun and swept the shaft of her axe, sending him flying to the ground. Another tried to ambush her from behind, but she swung the axe backward in a reverse stroke, slicing his chest wide open.

Her movements lacked any flashy techniques; every single strike was packed with pure, raw power.

The surrounding black-clad men gradually grew terrified. Their hands trembled as they gripped their swords, none of them daring to rashly close the distance again.

Sensing things were taking a turn for the worse, the black-robed man shouted to the mage who was still locked in combat with the knight, “Hurry up and deal with her!”

The mage hesitated for a fraction of a second before immediately breaking away from the melee. He rushed toward Phoebe, preparing to cast a spell.

The Lava Warhorse beneath Alberto paced anxiously, its mane burning with faint sparks and its hooves leaving shallow scorch marks on the ground.

He had been pinned down by the enemy swordsman this entire time. But with the mage retreating to assist elsewhere, the pressure on him instantly vanished. His longsword flashed out sharply, forcing his opponent back.

Up ahead, the mage had already begun chanting, his hands tracing complex magical patterns in front of him.

The surrounding moisture rapidly coalesced, forming a massive water tornado above his head. The churning mist surged with terrifying force.

The sheer intensity of this magical fluctuation made one's skin prickle. Its power was not the least bit inferior to the demonic Wolf King's full-force strike from before. She absolutely could not let this spell complete!

Tiny purple electric arcs crawled up the shaft of Rock-Crushing Mountain, coursing over her arms and spreading throughout her entire body.

Her muscles tensed, and her blood surged. The world before her eyes became exceptionally clear; she could even make out the slight movements of the mage's lips and the rhythm of his chanting.

With the 【Thunder Vein Resonance】 state activated, her strength and speed instantly skyrocketed. She kicked off the ground with explosive force, charging toward the mage at high speed.

The remaining black-clad men refused to let her advance so easily. Four or five of them closed in from various directions to block her path, their blades gleaming coldly as they tried to delay her and buy time for the mage.

Phoebe did not slow down. The dark red in her eyes suddenly flared, and her 【Wail】 ability was instantly triggered.

A pale red wave of energy rippled outward with her at the center—a soul-shaking concussive attack.

The surrounding black-clad men instantly froze in place. Some clutched their heads and crouched in agony, some dropped their weapons and fled in panic, and others stood stiff and trembling as if choked by an invisible force, completely stripped of their ability to fight.

Phoebe's expression remained cold and detached. She walked straight through the disorganized crowd, continuing her charge.

The mage's chant was reaching its end, and the massive water tornado was on the verge of taking form, but Phoebe was already right in front of him.

In his desperation, he ripped open a palm-sized magic scroll. The water tornado he had been charging suddenly accelerated, crashing down toward Phoebe with overwhelming hydraulic pressure.

Phoebe neither dodged nor retreated. A pale golden barrier of energy surfaced over her body as she activated 【Unyielding Bastion】 with all her might, pushing her defenses to the absolute limit.

She channeled every emotion in her heart—her longing for Bai Xuan, her fear of death, her anxiety over the unknown road ahead, and her rage at this unprovoked attack—into pure power, pouring it all into the giant axe in her hands.

The surging emotions traveled from her fingertips down the shaft and into the blade, causing the red energy ripples gathered on the axe to grow increasingly dense and dazzling.

Finally, the attack erupted from the axe, transforming into a massive, crescent-shaped blade of light that tore through the air. It warped the surrounding atmosphere and let out a sharp, piercing whistle, sounding like a long, low sigh.

The moment the attack left her hands, Phoebe felt an instant lightness wash over her, a sense of relief as if a thousand-pound boulder had finally been lifted from her chest.

The red blade of light crashed head-on into the rushing water tornado. The sharp edge sliced through the massive vortex like a hot knife through cloth, forcefully cleaving it down the middle.

The split torrents of water rushed past Phoebe's sides, slamming violently into the ground. The earth trembled as craters dozens of meters wide were blasted open.

Muddy water splattered everywhere, soaking the hem of her dress. A few cool droplets splashed onto her cheeks, clearing her chaotic thoughts slightly.

Having demolished the water tornado, the blade of light lost almost none of its momentum as it shot straight toward the mage.

The mage's face turned ashen instantly. The defensive magic items on his body triggered automatically, enveloping him in a golden shield.

Yet the sturdy shield held for a mere second before shattering like a fragile eggshell. The blade of light tore through his torso, carving a gruesome, diagonal line of blood from his left shoulder down to his right waist.

The mage stared blankly down at his wound, swayed unsteadily, and collapsed heavily to the ground.

Summoning his last ounce of strength, a faint glimmer flashed in his hand as a red high-grade potion filled with floating specks of light appeared, an attempt to save himself.

Phoebe had already walked up to him. She brought her foot down heavily on the wrist holding the potion bottle, the sickening crunch of fracturing bones ringing out clearly.

She swung the shaft of her axe down. The bottle shattered instantly, and the precious red potion spilled onto the ground along with the shards, its warm vapor seeping into the cracks between the stones.

The mage's eyes bulged, and his lips twitched slightly, but he could no longer make a sound. He had completely stopped breathing.

On the other side, the last enemy swordsman was run through the shoulder by Alberto's sword, dropping his blade in critical condition. Seeing this, the black-robed man gritted his teeth and blew a sharp, short whistle.

The remaining black-clad attackers immediately abandoned the fight and retreated rapidly.

He then reached into his robes, pulled out a fist-sized gray sphere, and crushed it. A thick, grayish-white smoke exploded outward, quickly enveloping the entire battlefield.

By the time the smoke slowly dissipated, only scattered bloodstains remained on the ground. All the attackers' corpses and weapons had been carried away.

The black-robed man and his remaining lackeys had long since fled, vanishing without a trace. Alberto rode his warhorse in a circle around the edge of the smoke, but ultimately found nothing.