Transmigrated into a Fantasy World with No Clue What To Do Chapter 48: Chapter 47: Black Parade / To All Things Must Come an End

Chapter 47: Black Parade / To All Things Must Come an End It is incoherent and filled with rage, primal in every sense of the word. The music stops and everyone turns toward the source of the scream which stands at the top of the grand staircase. It is a young woman, not much older than me, maybe Angus’s age at the oldest. I don’t recognize her either from either set of memories that I possess. She is tall, with fair skin wrapped around a delicate frame. Her hair is a deep shade of purple, almost black, her eyes are a piercing green. She is wearing a violet gown with black lace and accents, and hanging just above the cleft of her breasts is a sapphire jewel… wait, it isn’t hanging. The gem is embedded in the flesh of her chest and glows faintly with an icy light. Where are the guards and the royal herald? As the thought crosses my mind, I see shadow figures rising from the balconies and landing where the guards had been. Looking towards the feet of the shadow person closest to the girl, I see the crumpled figure of the royal herald. Absent-mindedly I reach over to scratch at my left arm which is itching as if thousands of ants were crawling on it. I look down and see the tattoo gifted to me by Ygg writhing on my flesh. Fuck. The shadow figure above the herald’s body is still extracting itself from him when the girl raises her hand and points at me. A black bolt of shadow shoots towards me. I have seen this before. I realize, as I instinctually raise a wall of ice between me and the attack. It hits the hastily constructed ice, shattering it, but the ice does its job and stops the bolt as well. “Brigid?” I hear Angus say in shock beside me as the nobility realizes what is happening and screams erupt all around. My brain doesn’t have time to process things before the girl has fired off multiple bolts of shadow, seemingly at random, for every person they strike, that person collapses and a shadow rises in their place, furthering the panic among the majority of the nobility. One by one, the people around us collapse and the ranks of the shadow figures grow as chaos sweeps through the room. Several of the nobility, as well as all of the royalty, have kept their heads enough to mount a counteroffensive and are mostly putting up a good defense, but most of their attacks just pass through the shadows, damaging them only a little, if at all. Only a few magic types seem capable of doing any real damage, types like fire. At some point, Angus had drawn the ornate sword from his waist, but it passes through the shadows surrounding us as if they didn’t exist. “Fire,” I say through gritted teeth as I force another wall of ice up between us and the nearest wave of shadows. The shadow spears strike it a heartbeat later, spiderwebbing the surface with fractures before the whole thing bursts apart in a spray of frost. Angus does not waste time asking. “Fire!” he barks, loud enough to cut through the screaming. “Burn the shadows! Do not let them rise from the fallen!” The command carries. Across the ballroom, King Malcolm’s voice crashes over the chaos a breath later, sharper and louder and impossible to ignore. “Hold formation! Fire to the front! Protect the fallen! Do not let the shadows rise!” The remaining nobles in the room lurch to obey. The effort is not clean at first, definitely not organized, but as the counter offensive slowly forms into something cohesive, it is enough… enough that the panic stops being a rout and becomes something uglier, but organized. Desperate, but survivable. A gout of flame roars across the ballroom from somewhere to my left, catching one of the shadow figures full in the chest. It recoils with a shriek like tearing silk, its form collapsing inward before dispersing into black vapor. Another shadow lunges for one of the collapsed nobles sprawled across the marble. Prince Edgar intercepts it like a battering ram. His shoulder slams through the thing, the impact scattering its form long enough for him to drive hims