Arcane Academy: The Divine Extraction Legacy Chapter 1188: Dragon's Disciple

"Who is this courageous Arcanist?" the woman possessed by Lust whispered, her brow furrowed in annoyance.

A solitary individual was traversing the city, methodically purifying her subordinates. It was absurd. Yet, every time her Apostles arrived to intervene, the figure vanished, leaving behind nothing but the faint residue of an alien energy.

It was a power she did not recognize. She could only assume this person wielded a unique Arcana or was perhaps under the protection of a being whose strength rivaled her own.

Her thoughts drifted back to the three enigmatic figures who had entered the city days prior. Their strength was formidable, and she was certain her apostles were no match for them.

Consequently, she had made it a point to remain hidden whenever she sensed their aura. If her intuition was correct, they were likely Half-Immortals possessing traces of Divinity, or perhaps something even more potent.

She couldn't help but associate those three with this new, mysterious interloper.

'The atmosphere here is becoming quite stifling...' Lust thought with a scowl.

She had exerted immense effort to establish this paradise of corrupted souls. Now, however, it seemed she was forced to weigh her remaining options.

Closing her eyes, Lust focused on the power she had spent so much time accumulating. A smile touched her lips as she realized she had reclaimed the majority of the strength she possessed before crossing into this realm.

'I believe I have recovered enough... It is time to take the offensive.'

Rising from her seat, she stepped onto the balcony and looked down at the bustling streets. Below, the citizens drank and laughed, completely oblivious to the fact that their inner desires were being woven into her dark web.

"This city belonged to me," she murmured softly. "And now... someone thinks they can snatch it away."

A smirk played on her face. "I shall not permit it."

Having regained over eighty percent of her original power, she felt confident. That was more than sufficient.

Before long, Harake City would outlive its usefulness. She could relocate to a different empire, a new territory, and begin spreading her corruption once more.

But before her departure, the one interfering with her plans had to be eliminated.

***

As night fell, she summoned her apostles to the manor's grand hall. Scores of men and women fell to their knees before her, their gazes vacant and their frames shaking with fanatical devotion.

"My children," Lust began, her voice heavy with seductive charm. "A thief walks among us. A pretender playing savior who seeks to wipe away your souls. He wishes to rob you of your freedom and your deepest desires. He must be destroyed."

The assembly trembled, their voices rising as one. "Yes, Mistress!"

Lust lifted her hand, and a crimson glow emanated from her palm. "Track him down. Hunt him. Deliver him to me. I shall teach him the true meaning of desire."

Since the individual was clearly powerful, she calculated that corrupting such a person would yield a massive harvest of energy.

As the apostles flooded into the streets, Lust leaned back into her throne, finally relaxing.

"My mysterious purifier... whoever you may be... your time is short. You might save a few souls, but you cannot halt my progress. I am Lust. I am eternal... and you shall be mine."

Lust whispered the words, licking her lips in anticipation.

Her mind was made up. Once this shadow was crushed, she would abandon Harake City. A new city and a fresh population were waiting to succumb to her influence.

First, however, she intended to savor the hunt.

***

The Apostles of Lust drifted through Harake City like dark omens.

Their eyes burned with a faint red light, no longer bothering to conceal the corruption within them.

Even their gait had lost its human quality. Their limbs twitched as if their physical forms could barely contain the surging energy. They were no longer simple humans; they were puppets, fueled by lust and tethered to the Mistress's will.

That same night, Desmund navigated the streets in his usual commoner's disguise.

The pulse of corruption in the air was palpable, stronger than it had ever been. A tightness gripped his chest, signaling that the climax was approaching.

His 'masters' had forewarned him of this, so he remained calm. He was not facing this threat alone.

His goal was simply to lure the Evil Entity out into the open.

Once she appeared, the three mysterious masters backing him would engage her directly, fulfilling his part of the mission.

"Fine, let's get this over with..." he muttered to himself.

The subtle movements of tainted souls reached his ears. Thanks to his gift, he could sense their presence, and tonight, the city was teeming with them.

The first Apostle emerged in the marketplace.

It was a merchant Desmund had once known, but the man was now horribly distorted. His skin was deathly pale, and his eyes were wide with insanity.

"The heretic..." the man spat upon seeing Desmund. "The Mistress demands your presence."

Desmund raised his hand, channeling his power. He knew from experience that attempting to reason with them was futile.

He had tried to save others many times before.

"You are beyond saving. I will grant you peace instead."

The Apostle lunged at him, wielding no weapons but his bare hands.

Desmund noticed immediately that their physical strength had been magically enhanced. He could not afford to be caught.

'You rely only on raw power... but I have been trained in techniques by my masters...'

With a burst of speed, Desmund closed the distance and slammed his palm against the man's chest, discharging a wave of cleansing energy.

The merchant let out a harrowing scream, his body jerking violently as the corruption was incinerated.

For a fleeting second, clarity returned to his eyes before his body slumped to the pavement, lifeless.

Desmund tightened his grip. "Another soul gone... but at least he is free."

Suddenly, more Apostles began to emerge.

They poured out from dark alleys, taverns, and the district of the nobility—dozens of them, all focused on his scent.

Desmund took off, knowing he couldn't fight such a large group simultaneously. He sprinted through the familiar streets, leading the chase away from innocent bystanders.

Eventually, he ducked into a courtyard, spotting an opportunity to make a stand.

"They're relentless... I have to end this now," Desmund whispered, realizing he was boxed in.

The Apostles had surrounded him, and their leader seemed to be relishing the thrill of the chase.

"You've struggled well... but the Mistress has spoken. You belong to her!"

Hearing this, Desmund allowed a smirk to cross his face.

"Not tonight."