Nebetu'u, The Cleanser or The Latest Dictator Behind the Curtain?

Chapter 7

Yet, in the woman's head, nothing was disturbed. Her ears remained dry, her lips curled faintly, as if all the sounds of the world had been filtered out, leaving only a warmth that seeped deep into her bones.

Nebetu'u knew things were getting messy.

With practiced motion, her body darted left, then twisted right, evading something unseen but undeniably felt, like dodging a knife before it was even swung.

In her hand, a strange device swayed.

Not a pendulum, but a spiral-shaped metal object that spun in defiance of gravity. Each movement sent vibrations through the air, casting distorted reflections that lagged behind their original motion.

The man's head screamed, but his voice was trapped in a layer of green mucus now filling his mouth. The woman's head, meanwhile, laughed, a sound like the rustling of dry leaves in summer. Nebetu'u kept moving, the metal spiral in her hand whirling faster, as if she were rewinding time or prying open a door meant to stay shut.

Then, with one final swing in the opposite direction, everything stopped.

The green mucus froze midair. The woman's laughter was cut short. Even the tolling of Mala Qudshi's bell seemed suspended in its own vibration.

And in that shattered silence, only Nebetu'u still breathed.

Her lips trembled in an ancient rhythm, hurling a spell of destruction that was no longer mere words but a weapon. Every syllable that slipped from her mouth morphed into a blade of blinding light, slicing the air with lethal precision. These incantation-knives shredded the illusion of the wildly swaying metal pendulum, splitting erratic movements into static fragments, suspended in the air like butterflies pinned by needles.

The dark force from the demonic domain recoiled.

The air hissed in pain, as if space itself were a living creature wounded.

The immediate effect struck like lightning at noon.

Mala Qudshi, the embodiment of calm, his face as flat as a frozen lake, his movements controlled like a perfect machine, suddenly changed. His pale skin twisted unnaturally, stretching as if something writhed beneath the surface. His thin lips snarled, revealing rows of teeth that had grown too sharp, too numerous, like the gaping maw of a shark.

His tall frame stiffened abruptly, muscles tensing beneath his white robes, which billowed as if filled with an unseen wind. His once-elegant fingers contorted, nails elongating and blackening, clawing at the air in spasmodic jerks, as if already imagining Nebetu'u's neck in his grip.

But at the peak of his fury, just as he prepared to lunge forward—

The rage, so fierce it had made the air tremble and metal melt, snuffed out like a candle in a night wind. Mala Qudshi exhaled a long, eerie breath that echoed strangely, as if from a thousand mouths at once. In that exhale, all anger evaporated, all tension dissolved.

Then, like a shadow swept away by morning light, he vanished.

No explosion.

No smoke.

No signs of teleportation whatsoever.

Just a silent departure, as if he had never truly been there in the first place. All that remained was a lingering sacred aura in the air, the faint scent of incense and dried bay leaves slowly fading like a memory unwilling to be recalled.

Nebetu'u stood frozen in the center of the room, the space gradually returning to silence. Her ears still caught the remnants of echoes, holy verses, whispered only moments ago by Mala Qudshi, his voice evaporating bit by bit like morning mist.

Fainter.

Less real.

Until finally, it was swallowed by silence.

The magical energy that had saturated the room had now dried up, leaving the air thick and hollow, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. In the emptiness, only questions lingered, suspended without answers, like shadows refusing to flee even after the light had gone out.

Nebetu'u didn't move. She had no intention of leaving, as if taking even a single step might disturb whatever remnants of the miraculous still hid within the quiet.

But there was nothing left.

Only stillness.

Only space.

And time, indifferent, continued to flow, unbothered by the confusion gnawing at the edges of her mind.

"From the very beginning, the abyss never intended to offer true resistance, only the illusion of defiance."

"To you, body and soul are surrendered."

Nebetu'u glanced left and right, her sharp eyes scanning every corner of the room, searching for any trace of Mala Qudshi, vanished as if reduced to nothing.

The air stood still, as if time itself had frozen in her search.

Then, without warning, no sound, no signal, a gaze brimming with piety materialized from behind, piercing her back like the cold edge of an intangible blade.

His presence was sudden, a reminder that he had always been there, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself.

The words floated, soundless yet clear in Nebetu'u's mind.

"Peace unto you. Our praises we offer."

A phrase that felt like a crown upon the woman's head, and a shackle around the man's.

Nebetu'u didn't need to turn to know. She could feel it, something standing directly behind her, too close, too real, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

She remained upright, not a flicker of fear disturbing her composure. Her body didn't tremble, though beneath her calm exterior, an odd sensation crept in, something like goosebumps, teasing only the man's head, while the woman's remained poised, untouched as night wind.

But this wasn't weakness. The man's head would never retreat, never let instinct overpower him.

At the very least, he could look cool beside the woman's unshakable grace.

Without hesitation, Nebetu'u's hand moved swiftly, pulling a small vial from the folds of her clothing and hurling it behind her. The vial shattered midair, releasing a swirl of murky brown gas that spread in an instant.

She didn't turn. She didn't need to see to know the gas had found its mark. She only waited, feeling the shift in the air, anticipating a response, an answer from this uninvited presence.

Nebetu'u stood firm, her gaze fixed forward, declaring that the world behind her wasn't worth acknowledging.

Not even with a glance.

Then, abruptly, the air hissed and trembled, before a table erupted from nothingness, hurtling toward her, its size swelling unnaturally with every inch it crossed.

To be continued...