Warlock Apprentice

Chapter 1384: Section 1385: The Half-Mechanical Man

The mournful sound transformed into a terrifying roar in the darkness.

As Natasha fled, her flight only drew more chilling howls. Countless bloody, horrific eyes focused solely on her.

“That guy must already know about the node. I must report back to the Queen; I can’t afford to be wrecked here,” Natasha thought to herself, quickening her pace even more.

However, Natasha had already lost her source of magic power and could only rely on her feet to run. In the gloomy Black Forest, even withered branches could break her fleeing rhythm.

Under the pitch-black hill, she stumbled upon the skeleton of a knight in armor without noticing.

It was unclear what the armor was made of, but it was very tough. The unexpected obstacle threw off Natasha’s balance as she ran at high speed.

After a muffled groan, Natasha fell to her knees.

Looking down, her right ankle began to emit a fizzing sound, and a spark of electric fire ignited. She heard a few “clicks,” and then she could no longer feel her right foot.

“Damn it, a malfunction now? I had them serviced before embarking on the mission!” Natasha’s eyes flashed fiercely.

Piercing screams came from behind.

Natasha turned to look back and saw a face—surrounded by bulging veins, with pale, white eyeballs and a blue, ghoulish grin—barely 10 centimeters from her nose!

A chill ran through Natasha, but she didn’t attempt an attack. Without an attribute to restrain the undead, any attack would be futile.

With her still functional left foot, she fiercely kicked a nearby withered tree.

The withered branches shook and falling twigs tumbled down, using the rebound force, Natasha rolled to the other side. Yet, this time she had exerted too much force and, with her right foot out of commission, failed to brake in time, rolling once and then into a second roll.

If it had only been two rolls, that might have been the end of it. But as if fate were against her, the direction of her rolling led her straight down a very steep slope, where one would normally lean forward just to maintain balance. Now, unable to control herself, Natasha tumbled down.

Amidst her rolling, Natasha still remained calm. She could see the dust flying into her face and hear the “crack” of broken branches. She could also sense parts of her machinery coming loose on her right side and the hissing sound of mechanical failure.

Did the failure of her right foot bring down the rest of her right side?

As Natasha pondered this, the rolling stopped. She fought through the pain, reached out her bloodstained left hand, and sat up.

At that moment, a Lightning Serpent fell from the tumultuous black clouds above.

In the flash of white light, the extent of Natasha’s dire state became visible. Her long dress was in tatters, the skin on her right side torn to reveal the mechanical gears and iron rods within. Among various regulators, the machinery was sparking, with smoke billowing all around.

Clearly, her right side was almost completely wrecked.

Her left side was in no better condition. Unlike the mechanical right, her left was flesh and blood, full of wounds, several of which were deep enough to reveal bone.

Her golden, curly hair was stained red with blood, adding to her disheveled look.

Natasha took long, deep breaths, looking around her. This was an open field with no trees within twenty meters.

“I’ve gone off course; can I still make it back?” Natasha’s eyes flickered with a hint of despondence.

A mournful cry came from behind. Turning her head, Natasha’s bloodshot eyes mirrored the luminous figures crowding closer.

Unbeknownst to her, nearly hundreds of undead had appeared behind her, and they continued to gather. Even if they hadn’t attacked yet, the essence of their evil, insanity, wanton destruction, and sorrow began to strain her already taut sanity.

“So far from that guy’s territory, but there are so many undead—it must be his doing beforehand,” a glint of darkness flashed in Natasha’s eyes. She knew that she was very likely to be wrecked here.

Even if she made it back to the node, with that guy’s cunning, he’d surely set traps nearby.

There was no way she could return.

Unless…unless someone could rescue her.

But when Natasha considered this possibility, she inwardly shook her head. She was just a semi-mechanical person, even calling her a Mechanical Puppet wouldn’t be far off. How could anyone bother to rescue her… and now, with everyone in the Black Castle busy with their own affairs, no one would come to save her.

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, watching the approaching undead. She knew her end was near.

Perhaps, once the Twilight King had cleared these undead, someone would find her remnants? The metals making up her chassis were somewhat valuable, and might be reforged into a Mechanical Puppet. However, the consciousness waking in that Puppet would likely not be hers.

“Natasha will come back; I saw it, you will return,” echoed a voice in her mind. Natasha remembered every nuance of that voice—it was young, yet carried an unwavering certainty.

“Hua Hua, it seems you were mistaken this time… I might not be able to return,” Natasha looked at the face of the undead so close at hand, and quietly closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come…

Natasha had her eyes closed for a long time, but she found she didn’t feel anything.

Death, then, was not painful? It seems the accounts in books were wrong. Death was actually very peaceful, calm, and even, it seemed as if there was a man whispering in her ear.

A man? Whispering? A question mark suddenly flashed through Natasha’s mind. How could that be? Even if she turned into a spirit, a man couldn’t possibly appear here, could he?!

She suddenly opened her eyes, and instead of that terrifyingly grotesque undead face, there loomed a blurry, towering figure.

Lightning’s white light outlined the silhouette of this figure.

Sturdy, tough, handsome, filled with… a sense of security.

Natasha stared blankly at the man in front of her. A trace of astonishment flickered in her eyes. Why would a man appear here? Weren’t all the souls of men supposed to have been cleansed?

Wrong! This man was not a spirit; he had the vigor of a living person, and his vital energy was incredibly strong!

It seemed to dawn on Natasha as she sharply turned her head to look around. The undead that had been surrounding her had all disappeared without a trace.

Had she been rescued? By this man who came from nowhere?

“Tch, there are still too few undead to condense a White Light Bullet,” a clear and pleasant voice reached Natasha’s ears.

Too few undead? White Light Bullet? What was that?

Although she vaguely saw white light entering something in the man’s hand, she did not connect the two at this moment.

Natasha hesitated before speaking out, “Who are you, and why are you here…”

She cut herself off midway, suddenly realizing something, “You’re an outsider who dared to intrude into Black Castle?!”

Angel frowned. He had just saved this “person,” and not only was there no thank you, but he was also being questioned.

Then Sanders walked over from behind, his deep voice carrying over, “Is she from Black Castle, hmm, or should I say, a Mechanical Puppet?”

“She’s a modified cyborg; almost all her body organs have been replaced, though her soul should still be the original,” Angel replied, “As for being a person from Black Castle, judging by her tone, it seems likely.”

After replying to Sanders, Angel looked toward the rather pitiable cyborg, “We didn’t intrude by stealth but entered openly. We thought we’d be discovered as soon as we stepped into Black Castle and could then negotiate, but unexpectedly, not only did no one contact us, we even had to come and save you.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, not dwelling on Angel’s sophistry but countered, “Who are you? What are you doing in Black Castle at this time?”

Angel detected the caution in Natasha’s tone, “We’re not interested in any incidents that may have occurred in Black Castle. We’re here solely to find someone.”

“Find someone?”

Angel: “Yes, do you happen to know if Lady Greya is in Black Castle?”

Greya? Natasha looked up in confusion, “What do you want with her?”

Just as Angel was about to answer, Sanders walked over and interrupted, “I don’t want to waste words. Take us to Greya or, alternatively, I could extract the information directly from your mind.”

Despite Sanders’s tone sounding casual and indifferent, the words he spoke made Natasha shiver involuntarily.

She looked up at Sanders, and just as she did, the lightning flickered, and a flash of brightness allowed her to see Sanders’s true face clearly.

Her pupils suddenly contracted.

“You… you’re Illusion Master Sanders?” After saying this and seeing Sanders raise an eyebrow, Natasha realized she had addressed him by name and quickly added, “Lord Illusion Demon, I wasn’t aware it was you who had arrived.”

“Enough talk,” Sanders’s voice carried impatience and indifference.

With thoughts whirling in her head, Natasha knew that if Sanders came to Black Castle, not only Greya but even the Queen would come to meet him personally. With that in mind, she immediately nodded, “Very well, I will take you to Lady Greya this instant.”

Natasha turned to leave but barely took a step before her body tilted and she fell to the ground.

She had apparently forgotten that most of her mechanical parts were now defunct.

“It seems I can’t move,” Natasha said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice, “Perhaps, I could just tell you the coordinates, and you can go on your own?”

Angel was actually inclined to go by himself, but since they had met her, and she was from Black Castle, it wouldn’t be right not to take her along.

He knelt down to inspect the defunct parts on Natasha’s body and said in a low voice, “It’s not very realistic to expect perfect repairs in a short time. However, to get you back on your feet, that won’t take much effort.”