A Journey That Changed The World.

Chapter 1520: Vanished

Archer grinned while watching Anastasiaʼs body quiver, breath ragged, but he didnʼt stop; he needed to finish. His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her flushed skin as he thrust deeper, each movement more intense than the last.

When he felt her love juices pouring out, it fueled his hunger, pace growing erratic as he chased his edge. Her walls pulsed around him, drawing low, primal growls from his throat, the sound vibrating through her.

ʼʼFuck, Ana,ʼʼ he rasped. ʼʼYou feel amazing!ʼʼ

She could barely hold herself upright, legs trembling, but he kept her tethered to him by holding her waist. ʼʼAHHHHHH!ʼʼ

Her screams tore through the air, raw and unrestrained, each one louder than the last as he drove her past the point of coherence. The sensation was overwhelming, her body alight thanks to the pleasure, every thrust pushing her further into a haze of ecstasy.

Archerʼs control snapped, his thrusts becoming wild, desperate. Moments later, he buried himself deep as her tight pussy clamped down even tighter. Thanks to that, he exploded and started filling up her womb with his warm seed, flooding her womb.

Anastasiaʼs scream peaked, a primal cry echoed through the room as her body shuddered in response. ʼʼAHHHHHHH!ʼʼ

Their bodies remained entwined, still trembling from the intensity, sweat-slicked skin pressed close as he collapsed onto the beautiful blonde beneath him. When this happened, she let out a sexy moan. ʼʼMmmghhh~~.ʼʼ

The air was thick with their shared heat, hearts racing in sync as they lingered in the afterglow, her fingers lazily tracing his back. Anastasiaʼs eyes fluttered, a smile curving her lips as she melted into him.

Following that, he pulled out, causing their mixed fluids to pour out and leak down her thick thighs. A smile crossed his face as he slapped the blondeʼs fat ass, making her let out a moan. ʼʼArghhhh~~.ʼʼ

As Catherine slipped into the room, her presence cutting through the lingering haze, his lips curled into a sly smile. He caught the glint in her eyes, a telltale sign sheʼd been listening all along.

ʼSo sheʼs a pervert? This will be good,ʼ he thought, his grin widening.

Anastasia, still catching her breath beneath him, remained oblivious, her body soft and pliant in the afterglow. At the same time, his gaze locked onto Catherine, a silent challenge sparking in the air between them.

When seeing this, Archer approached the gorgeous woman, still naked and covered in Anastasiaʼs fluids. He stopped just in front of her and leaned in to whisper. ʼʼDo you want a surprise present, Cath?ʼʼ

Her curious expression flickered briefly when his words sank in, her eyes narrowing. Before she could respond, he leaned forward, his lips capturing hers in a sudden kiss. The air crackled as Catherine froze, her body stiffening.

Then, she shoved him hard. The force sent him hurtling backward, crashing through a nearby wall. He sailed into the forest beyond, branches snapping as he carved a deep trench through the earth, finally skidding to a stop amidst a cloud of dirt.

Lying there, he let out a heavy sigh, then a low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he shook his head at the chaos. After a few minutes, Archer rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt and debris from his clothes as Catherine stormed into view.

Her eyes were blazing, but he didnʼt fail to notice her red cheeks and neck. ʼʼDonʼt ever kiss me like that without warning!ʼʼ she snapped, her voice sharp.

ʼSo she didnʼt entirely hate it?ʼ he thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he steadied himself.

ʼʼAlright, Cath,ʼʼ he said smoothly, his tone teasing yet compliant. ʼʼIʼll make sure to give you a heads-up next time.ʼʼ

Following that, Archer grabbed her by the waist and teleported them back to the unconscious Anastasia. He scooped her into a princess carry as he spoke. ʼʼShow me her room, Catherine.ʼʼ

Just then, the duo sensed the Novgorod Demi Gods closing in on the castle, prompting him to hide himself using Mana Manipulation. Once he did that, the older woman looked confused.

ʼʼIt seems like you just vanished ?ʼʼ she muttered.

Archer chuckled before nodding. ʼʼYes, Iʼm hiding my mana so the enemy wonʼt sense me,ʼʼ he revealed.

Afterward, Catherine led him to the blonde room, where he tucked her in bed just as he sensed a young woman heading straight for the room they were in. He turned to the red-eyed beauty.

ʼʼYour angry granddaughter is coming,ʼʼ he said. ʼʼI donʼt want to argue, so Iʼll rob your sons back now.ʼʼ

With a flicker of magic, Archer vanished, reappearing in the air the bustling Novgorod capital. Hovering silently, he gazed down at the city below, its people scurrying like ants through the crowded streets while soldiers patrolled.

The afternoon sun glinted off their armor, casting sharp reflections across the cobblestones. Moments later, he descended, landing in an alley and transforming into a random human form to hide his identity.

Following that, Archer stepped onto the main street, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he moved toward the bank. On nearly every corner, the Church of Light Knights stood vigilant, their gazes sweeping the crowd.

He wove through the chaos, his disguise going unnoticed past clusters of soldiers. The city thrummed with life, merchants hawking wares, children darting through the crowds, and the rhythmic clank of armored boots echoing off stone.

Archer noticed the air carried the scent of fresh bread and forge smoke, a stark contrast to the tension coiling in his chest. He moved with purpose, his steps measured but casual, blending effortlessly into the flow of the crowd.

The Church of Light Knights loomed at every major intersection, their white cloaks billowing faintly in the breeze, eyes sharp and unyielding as they scanned for threats. He kept his gaze forward, though a faint smirk played at the edges of his lips.

ʼThey have no idea,ʼ he mused, savoring the irony of his presence in the heart of their stronghold.

After nearly fifteen minutes of navigating the labyrinthine streets, the grand facade of the Novgorod Central Bank came into view at the roadʼs end. Its towering marble columns and ornate iron gates stood as proof of the cityʼs wealth.

Archerʼs pulse quickened, his mind sharpening with focus. ʼThere it is,ʼ he thought, his smirk widening into a predatory grin. ʼTime to throw a wrench into their plans and cripple their precious army.ʼ

He adjusted his cloak, securing his disguise, and moved confidently toward the bank. His thoughts drifted to Alexa, and he resolved to visit her after checking on the three women in Avidia.

ʼIʼll take Freya there to give Sia a rest,ʼ he thought before entering the bankʼs gate.

Archer paused at the edge of the garden, his sharp eyes sweeping over the grounds that encircled the structure. Dozens of soldiers patrolled, their boots crunching rhythmically on the gravel paths, oblivious to the danger lurking in the shadows.

Moments later, he summoned a dozen Broodmaws, mantis-like creatures with gleaming, razor-sharp limbs and eyes that glinted with predatory intent. His command was silent but absolute: eliminate the enemy.

The Broodmaws surged forward in a blur, their scythe-like appendages slicing through the air. The unsuspecting soldiers barely had time to react before the creatures descended, cutting them down with ruthless efficiency.

Screams pierced the night, quickly silenced as the monsters fulfilled their grim task. Archer, shedding his disguise, reverted to his true form, his silhouette briefly illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the trees.

A group of onlookers, humans who had wandered too close to the chaos, caught sight of his transformation. Their faces contorted in terror, and panicked shouts erupted as they stumbled backward.

But Archer was already moving. With a flicker of otherworldly power, he vanished from the garden, reappearing at the buildingʼs entrance. His presence was a shadow, fleeting yet undeniable, as he prepared for the next phase of his plan.

As he advanced, a massive metal door thundered down before him, its heavy clang reverberating through the corridor in a desperate attempt to bar his path. A wry smile curled his lips; such a feeble obstacle only amused him.

With a single, explosive punch, he shattered the door, tearing through the reinforced steel as if it were parchment. Shards of metal scattered across the floor, and the soldiers on the other side froze, their faces pale with shock at the display of raw power.

Regaining their composure, the soldiers raised their hands, mana crackling as they unleashed spells toward him. But he was untouchable. His Anti-Magic aura pulsed, nullifying their attacks.

ʼAtleast they canʼt harm me like before,ʼ he mused.

Frustrated and desperate, the soldiers abandoned their magic, drawing blades and charging forward. Archerʼs eyes gleamed with predatory delight. He summoned his claws, wicked talons that extended from his fingers with a metallic sheen.

Moments later, he carved through the onslaught. Metal armor buckled and split, and flesh yielded as easily as the door had moments before. The corridor became a whirlwind of chaos, with him at its center.