'I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!'-Chapter 48: Eyistha’s Trouble

Kardel, Rhiki, and Auren all turned toward the Whisker Oracle, whose tiny green body remained still atop the backpack, eyes locked on something none of them could yet see.

They each had the same thought.

"What’s coming?"

But before the Oracle could respond, Queen Elarya stirred weakly. Her body still trembled with pain, but her voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"N-No... Vulkris..."

The name left her lips like a curse.

Her limbs screamed in agony, but she forced herself to sit upright, gritting her teeth against the pain. Blood still clung to the edges of her elven armor, scorched and cracked, but the determination in her eyes ignited anew.

"I-Intruder... from the Dark F-Fate," she managed, her voice raspy and hollow. "They’re here to unseal the Vulkris... to destroy Runewood..."

Rhiki’s eyes widened. "Wait, what?!"

Kardel took a stunned step back. "They’re unsealing it?! Now?!"

And that means those they have fought awhile ago were members of the Dark Fate?

The Queen coughed, and blood flecked her lips, but she powered through, voice rising.

"Don’t stand there—move! To the mountain! The floating mountain of Vulkris! Stop the unsealer before it’s too late!"

They didn’t need another word. frёeωebɳovel.com

Rhiki and Kardel exchanged a glance—then vanished in a burst of mana, wind, and lightning.

But unfortunately... the Queen’s warning had come just seconds too late.

Atop the farthest floating island within Inferna Hollow, the air shimmered with oppressive heat. Molten rivers coursed through jagged stone channels like glowing veins, and smoke belched from craggy volcanic mouths.

And there—at the center of it all—laid the sleeping beast.

Vulkris.

The Infernal Beast of Molten Destruction.

A lion-shaped behemoth whose mane burned with ceaseless fire, whose wings flickered like molten storms, and whose tail coiled like a living whip of magma.

Its enormous body rested on a black platform carved into the peak of the highest volcanic mountain. Chains, once radiant green, had wrapped around its limbs and torso in a tight, pulsing web.

But now, those chains are slowly cracking apart the more time has passed.

Standing just feet from the edge of the platform, Eyistha—the youngest and final remaining member of the invading Dark Fate—lowered her hands slowly, panting. Her silver-white robes were soaked in sweat, and burn marks sizzled across her skin where fire mana backlash had scorched her. The water bubble that kept him safe from the heat continued to sizzle and in the verge of breaking.

In her trembling fingers, the black ritual book still pulsed with cursed light, its dark aura now waning.

She had been chanting for over ten minutes now, her voice nearly hoarse, uttering sacred verses in the forbidden tongue of the old gods. Each syllable had gnawed away at the seal like rust on steel, breaking divine chains forged ages ago.

"Oh Khadina ni Elarya`a’Ma Putou’l Khan’a’Khay Khung’ Dhili’Ibaligyha ThikawSa MhamalitaySha Phuthaaaw~"

And with the final word whispered into the scorched air—

CRACK.

A sharp, echoing snap rang through the mountaintop as the last of the luminous chains shattered. The glowing links broke apart like brittle glass, disintegrating into fragments that floated away, scattering like fiery embers across the obsidian platform.

Eyistha stumbled forward, her knees buckling slightly from the exertion. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Sweat streamed down her soot-streaked face, mixing with ash and blood. Her hands trembled from overuse of mana, and her robe was scorched in several places—but none of that mattered now.

Because her mission is finally done.

Her wide eyes locked on the towering form before her, and a grin—wild and trembling—split her face.

"Finally..." she rasped, voice hoarse and cracked from the long, agonizing ritual.

"It’s done."

The ancient bonds that held the Vulkris—the Infernal Beast of Destruction—had been undone.

And now... it was free.

Now, all that remained was the awakening.

One fiery rampage. One legendary act of chaos.

That was all she needed. After that, she would vanish in a flash of light, escaping through the teleportation stone nestled in her pocket. Now, her mission is done. Her name etched in the dark annals of history. Kael’thus and the others would hail her as the true catalyst of Runewood’s fall.

They’ll be so proud...

She waited.

And waited.

But nothing happened.

The platform trembled only from the heat, not from the fury of an awakening god. Vulkris didn’t roar. Didn’t rise. Didn’t even twitch.

He just... slept.

Massive. Unmoving and breathing slowly.

Motionless, as if entirely unconcerned by the shattered chains around him.

Eyistha blinked, disbelief crawling up her spine.

No. No, no, no... He’s free. He’s free! Why isn’t he moving?

She shifted in place, scanning for any sign of tension in his form. A snarl, a flick of the tail, the flare of an eye.

Anything.

But Vulkris remained curled in his throne of magma like a god in deep slumber. His molten mane crackled and pulsed with heat, casting hellish light onto the obsidian beneath him—but not a shred of aggression stirred from within his massive form.

"Vulkris!" Eyistha shouted, voice rising with panic. "You’re free now! Don’t you want to avenge your kin?! Don’t you want to destroy everything that betrayed you?!"

Still nothing.

Not a twitch. Not a flare.

Not even a flicker of acknowledgment from the infernal beast.

Eyistha’s hands curled into fists at her sides, her entire body trembling—not from fear, but from rising, helpless rage.

"You... flaming bastard!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice cracking with frustration. All that chanting, all that pain—and this oversized volcano-lion had the nerve to just nap through it?

No. She refused to let it end in silence.

Drawing a deep breath, Eyistha forced herself to steady. Her fingers flexed, then spread open wide as she lifted her hand toward the scorched sky.

"Fine," she muttered, eyes burning with defiance. "You want noise? I’ll give you noise."

A surge of mana rushed to her palm. She roared, voice echoing across the smoldering mountaintop:

[Summon Beast: Ashen Wyvern]

A summoning circle ignited beneath her, glowing a brilliant icy blue. Ancient glyphs spiraled outward, twisting through the scorched stone like frost cracking against fire. A sudden gust of strong air blasted upward, followed by a flash of pale light.

A creature emerged from the rift.

Tall as two school buses, the Winter Wyvern let out a proud, rumbling roar, its crystalized wings spreading wide. Its ghostly white scales shimmered like glass beneath a snowstorm. Glacial steam rolled from its nostrils, and its eyes gleamed with frozen fury.

This is by far her strongest tamed beast.

"SKRAAAAA—!"

Then, everything changed.

The wyvern’s roar cut short mid-cry.

Its gaze locked onto the sleeping titan at the platform’s center.

And immediately... it froze.

All color drained from its proud, fierce expression. The wings, once poised to take flight, drooped. Its tail curled in tightly. Sweat beaded and fell like rain from its snout. The beast trembled—not with cold, but with raw, animal terror.

Its body took a single involuntary step back.

That... thing...

The Winter Wyvern knew.

Knew what now lay before it was no mere rival.

It was death incarnate.

A being that did not compete for territory.

It owned it.

Seeing her Ashen Wyvern stepping away as if preparing to escape, Eyistha’s eyes twitched in anger.

"Where do you think you are going!?"

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