Chapter 90: The Final Struggle [1]
Julies Evans POV:
I raised my hand.
Blood surged to my fingertips, pulsing with power.
"Let’s finish this."
With a roar of compressed force, I unleashed the blast.
CRRRRAAACCKKK!
The door buckled under the impact and slammed open with a deafening screech.
What I saw inside made my blood run cold.
But there was no turning back now.
Bjron froze mid-motion, caught in the act. His eyes, wild and bloodshot, snapped toward me.
A manic grin twisted across his face.
"How the hell did you get out of your cell?!"
I didn’t answer.
My eyes had already moved past him—to the metal bed behind him.
Lila was there.
Chained.
...And naked.
Her wrists and ankles were bound by thick, enchanted metal. She was still breathing, but barely. Her body trembled with silent sobs, tears streaming down her face. Her lips moved, whispering something I couldn’t hear—but it didn’t matter.
The fear in her eyes said everything.
And the sight of her—stripped of dignity, helpless, vulnerable—ignited something violent inside me.
Anger. I was already angery before but now it’s exploded.
But I know that blindly charging at him would be nothing more then suside.
So, I tried calmed myself down and took my lether coat that kept me slightly warm from the cold of North and throw it over Lila’s naked body.
"E-Eren...?"
She bearly whisper my name as she ...barely whispered my name as she looked up at me, her voice cracked and hoarse like she hadn’t spoken in days.
Her lips trembled, her body flinching even at the sound of my footsteps.
I stepped forward, slowly, carefully—not taking my eyes off Bjron.
He hadn’t moved. Not yet.
But that look in his eyes—part surprise, part amusement, part madness—made it clear he wasn’t going to surrender.
"Try to butcher her like an animal," I said, my voice low, deadly calm, "and I’ll carve your name into every cursed wall in the North before I rip you apart."
Bjron laughed—a sharp, high-pitched sound that cracked through the silence like broken glass.
"You think you’re some kind of hero, huh?" he sneered, stepping forward. "That you can just walk in here and save the girl?"
His eyes were wild, his grin feral.
"I own her, you little bastard. She’s mine."
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.
Bjron pulled out a cleaver from his belt, the blade stained and nicked with old use.
"You know," he said, tilting his head, "after her, it was gonna be your turn. You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, brat."
By "me," he meant he was going to butcher me—after he was done with her.
My jaw tightened. I drew my dagger.
Last time, I couldn’t beat him. I lost.
I could pile up all the excuses—my sword had shattered at the worst possible moment, the lingering side effects of the blood magic had slowed me down, I wasn’t in top condition...
But none of that mattered now.
Not anymore.
Because if I lost again—it wouldn’t just be me who died.
Lila. Mira. Fen. Rusk. Halven.
They’d all fall next. One by one. And after he was done slaughtering them, this psychopath would do worse.
He wouldn’t just kill them.
He’d carve them up. Eat them. Laugh while doing it.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I wouldn’t.
Not again.
I adjusted my grip on the dagger, planting my feet firmly. My heart was steady. No room for fear. No room for failure.
This time—I would end him.
No excuses. No second chances.
Just blood. His.
Bjron lunged first.
With a guttural snarl, he swung the cleaver in a vicious arc aimed straight at my neck.
WHSSHH!
The blade cut through the air, fast—but not fast enough.
I ducked low, letting the swing pass just inches above my head, and slammed my shoulder into his ribs.
THUD!
Bjron staggered back a step, coughing from the impact, but he barely felt it. He was big. Brutish. Covered in layers of muscle and madness. The bastard didn’t just fight—he enjoyed it.
"COME ON THEN!" he roared, spitting blood. "SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!"
CLANG!
His cleaver came down again, smashing into the metal bedframe behind me as I rolled to the side. Sparks flew. The room echoed with the sharp ring of metal on metal.
I twisted up from the floor and slashed with my dagger, aiming for his throat—but he blocked it with his forearm. Blood sprayed, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed me by the collar with his free hand and hurled me across the room.
CRASH!
I slammed into the shelves, glass and rusted tools clattering down around me.
Pain flared across my back. My vision blurred—but I didn’t let go of the dagger.
"You’re not even a real warrior," Bjron growled, stomping toward me, cleaver dragging behind him like an executioner’s axe. "You’re just a dog pretending to bite."
He raised the cleaver overhead.
WHUMP!
I threw a metal tray at his face. It clanged off his head and bought me one second—just enough.
I surged forward and sank my dagger deep into his thigh.
SHHHUNK!
"Ugh!"
Bjron howled and stumbled, the muscle giving way under the blade. He swung at me blindly, catching my shoulder with the flat of the cleaver.
BAM!
I went down hard, shoulder screaming in pain, but I rolled with it. My world tilted, spinning—but I forced myself to focus.
Lila.
Lila was still chained behind him.
She was watching, her lips pressed shut, eyes wide with terror and something else—hope.
I couldn’t lose.
Bjron ripped the dagger from his leg with a grunt and tossed it aside. Blood gushed down his pant leg, forming a dark pool beneath him.
"I’m gonna take my time with you," he growled, limping toward me. "Cut you slow."
I reached behind my back—under the coat—and drew the backup blade from my boot.
A thin, silver stiletto.
"You know, I haven’t used all my skills when I fought you before."
"What?"
He asked with confused expression but I didn’t answered him.
Instead—
"[Ghoststep]"
> [Skill Activated: Ghoststep (S-Rank)]
I activated Ghoststeps.