SWDnovel Chapter 85 That Night
Chapter 85 That Night
Chapter 84 That Night
The second level of the Tower of Babel, the wooden house where Lorraine lived.
Lorraine lay on the bed, breathing steadily, but her brows were slightly furrowed.
Even in his sleep, the two imminent fourth-tier demons—"Winter of Annihilation" and "Winter of Fear"—still hung like the Sword of Damocles over his head.
"Seven days—" Lorraine murmured in her sleep.
Seven days.
In just seven days, he will have to rely on a group of newly assembled steel mechs and dozens of defensive towers to confront the main force of the Winter Lord.
He didn't even know if the fifth-tier Winter Lord would make a move this time.
This is a high-stakes gamble that seems to have a very slim chance of success to anyone.
"Click".
The door lock emitted a soft, almost imperceptible spring-like sound.
Lorraine's hand, hidden under the blanket, instantly gripped the dagger under the pillow, but the next second, the aura captured by his omniscient vision made all his murderous intent vanish.
—That aura was so familiar, carrying a hint of freshness like grass after rain, and a mysterious fluctuation unique to the rules of fate.
A corner of the blanket was lifted, and a gust of cool air from outside instantly rushed in.
Immediately afterwards, a warm, slightly trembling body, like a fledgling bird seeking refuge, nestled into his arms without reservation.
Lorraine opened her eyes.
In the dim light of the Tower of Babel, he met a pair of heterochromatic eyes.
His left eye was as black as an abyss, while his right eye shone as bright as flowing gold.
It's Leila.
"Still not asleep?"
Lorraine asked softly, his voice hoarse from just waking up from a light sleep. He didn't push her away; instead, he opened his arms and let the girl rest her head on his arm.
Leila's previously tense body completely softened at this moment.
She was like a little animal finally returning to its den, even gently nuzzling against Lorraine's chest.
"I can't sleep."
Lyra's voice was soft, but steady.
She tilted her head back, her eyes, which had always been evasive and timid, never daring to look anyone in the eye, now staring unreservedly into Lorraine's dark eyes.
Although the voice was faint, it no longer carried the timidity that had once been so deeply ingrained.
Lorraine could sense that the girl beside her was undergoing some kind of transformation.
That jinx who was once homeless and felt unworthy of a home is being reshaped into a witch who controls cause and effect in the warm bed of the Tower of Babel.
"Are you worried about the battle in seven days?" Lorraine gently stroked her long, silver-gray hair.
"No."
Leila shook her head, fumbling in the blankets until she found Lorraine's hand, then intertwined her fingers with it.
She used astonishing strength, as if she were afraid that if she let go, the man in front of her would disappear into the fog of cause and effect.
"I'm wondering if my luck can really turn everything around."
She spoke softly, her tone devoid of fear, but filled with an almost obstinate seriousness, "Sister Olivia said that you are a man who can create miracles."
"As long as you are here, we will always be able to win and witness one miracle after another."
"But even the man who can create miracles will feel a chill at the capriciousness of fate."
Her fingertips were slightly cool as she gently stroked Lorraine's furrowed brow, trying to soothe the sorrow there.
"Lorraine, you're afraid."
This is a declarative sentence.
This is a blatant and unvarnished revelation.
In the presence of Lyra, who could see the threads of fate, Lorraine's tough facade as a lord seemed so fragile.
Lorraine fell silent.
He is the lord, the backbone of everyone. In front of Victor, he is an invincible commander; in front of Olivia, he is the man who can always create miracles.
Only in front of this girl who could see the lines of fate did his primal fear of death, deep inside him, become utterly exposed.
"It's normal to be afraid." Lorraine chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Two fourth-tier monsters, and possibly even fifth-tier ones, have broken in. It's normal to be afraid."
"If we lose, we'll all turn into ice sculptures."
"We won't lose."
Lyra suddenly propped herself up, her long, silver-gray hair cascading down like a waterfall, brushing against Lorraine's neck and bringing a tingling, itchy sensation.
She looked down at Lorraine, a chilling light flickering in her heterochromatic eyes. It was a sign that the witch of fate was wielding her power; it was as if invisible strings were being plucked in the air.
"I have seen it all; of the countless paths that lie ahead, only one leads to victory."
Lyra's voice became somewhat ethereal, as if it were coming from another dimension.
She slowly leaned down, her warm breath brushing against Lorraine's lips, carrying a faint sweet fragrance.
"That path needs me to guide you, needs me to add the final weight to your journey."
"What are you going to do?"
Lorraine's Adam's apple bobbed.
He sensed something was wrong; the magical energy emanating from Lyra was fluctuating at a strange frequency.
The surrounding air began to heat up, not in a physical sense, but in a restlessness that directly affected the soul.
"Replenish your luck".
A sly smile curved at the corners of Leila's lips.
This was the first time Lorraine had ever seen such an expression on her face, like a little fox that had just stolen some fish.
"You, who awakened the Witch of Destiny for me, don't you know that?"
Her hand slowly slid down Lorraine's chest, her fingertips seeming to ignite invisible flames wherever they touched. "The deeper the bond between a witch and a lord, the greater the magical power they can wield. Lorraine, you are my anchor, and the destination of my destiny."
"I used to think I was dirty, a jinx, and unworthy of every brick and tile here."
Her voice lowered, yet carried a moving sense of resolve.
"But now, I am your witch."
"You helped me rebuild this arm, you helped me erase my identity as a jinx, and you built this home with your own hands."
Lyra slumped down, burying her face in Lorraine's arms.
Lorraine could feel her heart pounding incredibly fast, like a drumbeat, one beat after another.
"Lorraine, if we must die in this cold winter, then I hope that all our regrets will be fulfilled before we die."
"Tonight, let our wishes intertwine, and then all will be fulfilled."
The last sentence, as light as a sigh, struck Lorraine's most sensitive nerve with tremendous force.
In this apocalyptic world where every day is uncertain and one could be swallowed up by wind and snow at any moment, this girl is clumsily and unreservedly trying to use everything she has—her body, her soul, her destiny—to weave an armor called "luck" for him, the lord.
Lorraine felt a fire explode inside her.
All reason, all calculation, all tactical considerations were thrown to the winds at this moment.
He placed Leila beneath him.
Their eyes met.
Leila did not flinch; instead, a startling intensity blazed from her heterochromatic eyes.
"You asked for this." Lorraine's voice was terribly hoarse, as if it had been sanded.
"Um."
Leila responded, a beautiful blush rising to her cheeks, her voice soft yet firm, "I don't regret it."
That night, silence spoke louder than a thousand words.
In the process of forging that profound contract, Lorraine seemed to touch the very essence of the world.
Lyra's petite body was enveloped in black and gold magic of fate. With each breath and the release of magic, the symbols of luck and misfortune intertwined and swirled between the two of them.
She still remembered a long time ago, a winter night when she was homeless.
And now, this girl who once shivered in the wind and snow and was despised by everyone as a jinx has finally found the full meaning of her existence in this warm embrace.
She is his.
From body to mind, from the past to the future.
"Lorraine—" she murmured his name unconsciously, as if reciting some sacred scripture.
Everything returned to calm.
Only the two of them, breathing heavily, mingled together, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet of the night.
The next morning.
As the artificial light source of the Tower of Babel simulated the first rays of dawn, Lorraine opened her eyes precisely on time.
The person in my arms is still fast asleep.
Leila clung to him like a koala, her long, silver-gray hair scattered messily across the pillow, her exposed shoulders fair and alluring.
Her lips curled up slightly, as if she were having a beautiful dream. Her face, which usually carried a hint of aloofness and melancholy, now radiated an astonishing glow, like a dusty gem that had finally been polished and was shining with dazzling brilliance.
Lorraine didn't move, she just watched her quietly.
An omniscient perspective swept across.
[Name: Leila]
[Identity: Second-tier Fate Witch]
[Status: Fate Resonance (Activated). Luck is continuously flowing back, current charging efficiency increased by 300%.]
[Lord Trait: Favored by Fate (Temporary/Extremely Strong). All your next judgments will receive a "Great Success" modifier.]
Lorraine raised an eyebrow.
Last night's absurdity actually yielded this unexpected gain?
Seemingly noticing Lorraine's gaze, Lyra's long eyelashes fluttered a few times, and she slowly opened her eyes.
Eyes facing each other.
Contrary to expectations, Lyra only paused for a second before flashing a dazzling smile that was almost dizzying.
She gave Lorraine a light peck on the lips, the gesture as natural as that of an old married couple.
Good morning, my lord.
Although his voice was a little hoarse, it exuded an unprecedented vitality and confidence.
Half an hour later.
Dressed neatly, Lyra stood in front of the newly built "Clock Tower of Destiny".
At this moment, Victor, Ohm, and Anna were watching from a distance, each with a different expression.
"Laila's aura... seems to have changed?" Ohm stood to the side, curiously observing Laila as she walked out of Lorraine's house.
"Last night, I detected a fluctuation of the magic of fate. Is something that happened that I don't know about?"
'
Anna was wiping the Orb of Opposites in her hand when she heard this. She just smiled faintly and looked at the petite figure standing in front of the clock tower gate. Her eyes were filled with a sense of satisfaction: "Young Master's judgment is never wrong."
Leila took a deep breath.
She ignored the gazes around her; at that moment, her eyes were fixed only on the Clock Tower of Destiny, which held the key to the future.
Last night's madness was not just a moment of pleasure.
Lorraine gave her more than just physical acceptance; she entrusted the fate of the entire city to her without reservation.
This profound trust completely shattered the last vestiges of her inferiority complex.
Since he is the captain of this ship, she is the navigator who guides the ship's course and helps it avoid undercurrents.
"For the Lord—"
Leila murmured softly, her eyes suddenly blazing with light, like a burning sun.
She suddenly spread her arms wide, and her originally slender body suddenly unleashed a terrifying pressure that made even Victor's heart tremble.
"Clockwork of Destiny, activate!"
With a clear shout, the huge brass pendulum beneath the two clock faces seemed to be pushed by an invisible hand, emitting a deep and resonant roar.
"when--!"
The bell tolled through the sky, but instead of creating a sonic boom, it transformed into visible golden ripples that spread wildly outwards from the bell tower.
The next second, something happened that left everyone speechless.
The thick, leaden-gray clouds in the sky outside the Tower of Babel cracked open as the bells rang, and a long-awaited ray of sunlight pierced through the wind and snow, falling precisely on the Tower of Babel.
In the shadows of the Tower of Babel, where the sun never shines, the advance troops who were originally lurking around, ready to launch a surprise attack, found themselves slipping and falling into crevasses or being knocked unconscious by inexplicably collapsing snow.
Misfortune is rejected, and good fortune is gathering.
On the dial at the top of the clock tower, the hands, which had been at zero, began to jump wildly, accumulating the energy called "miracle" bit by bit.
Lyra stood beneath the clock tower, her silver hair dancing wildly, like a deity who controlled destiny.
Lorraine stood in the square, gazing tenderly at the radiant girl.
He slowly tightened his grip on the short knife, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes replaced by a fervent fighting spirit.
At noon, the moment of unexpected change arrived.
A thick, grayish-white mist permeated the second level of the Tower of Babel, and countless erosion data flowed across the screens surrounding the camp in the blink of an eye.
In the chilling fog, countless scarlet electronic eyes suddenly lit up.
"They're here." Lorraine's gaze turned towards the outside of the city walls.
Anna was already standing at the top of the watchtower.
Yesterday, they cleared out a large number of eroded mechs on the second layer and destroyed several nodes occupied by eroded data.
Those actions clearly spurred the Messiah's erosion network—data streams fluctuated frequently at night, and Ohm detected a threefold increase in the activity of the second-tier mechs.
But Lorraine didn't expect the counterattack to come so quickly.
When the first wave of erosion mechs poured out of the tunnel entrance in the Titan Furnace area, their numbers were small, less than thirty scattered units.
Their bodies were covered with dark red data patterns, their joints oozed putrid black oil, and their eye sockets were filled with wildly flashing light spots.
Anna didn't even use the amplification from the Witch's Tower.
She stood atop the city wall, and with a wave of her hand, a pale white wall of fire stretched across the exit of the passageway.
The corrosive mechs plunged in, and their alloy shells instantly turned red-hot, softened, and collapsed, like tin blocks thrown into a furnace, turning into smoky metal slag within seconds.
"So few people came today?" Anna asked in surprise.
Ohm's voice came from the loudspeaker of the heavy artillery turret, tinged with tension: "Sister Anna, don't be careless—I sense that the data stream on the second layer is rapidly converging, Sister Messiah is—is mobilizing troops."