Chapter 526 LV5
Steven had lied about using Frostheart himself because he knew the truth—the substance was unpredictable and dangerous. Once used, you became Natasha's prey.
He couldn't even guarantee it had no side effects.
"So you're suggesting we use Frostheart to amplify our abilities and break through?" Otha asked.
Steven nodded. "It's our only option now. You're all elite Psychics—if you use Frostheart, you might surpass your limits and become even more powerful. Powerful enough to fight your way out."
Theron and the others frowned, temptation flickering across their faces. Their situation was desperate; they had to consider any means of escape.
Death at the hands of the corpse horde seemed all but certain anyway.
"Otha, let's try it," Lanny urged, desperation edging his voice.
Steven magnanimously produced a Frostheart. "You can use this one."
He carried only three of these unstable objects—he didn't need more than that.
Otha studied Steven. Though he wore sunglasses, Steven still felt the icy penetration of his gaze.
A chill crept down Steven's spine. Had Otha seen through his scheme?
Otha reached out and took the Frostheart. Whatever his suspicions, he had no other options now. Accepting it didn't make him indebted to Steven—quite the opposite.
"At this point, we have to try," Otha said quietly.
"Let me do it too!" Lanny cried out.
The others joined in: "All of us together!"
They'd survived countless life-or-death situations together and understood Frostheart likely had side effects.
But with death closing in, none wanted to back down—they'd face the risks together.
"No. I alone am enough," Otha said firmly, giving Steven one last, penetrating look.
He opened the small wooden box and removed the Frostheart. It was a small, white, fleshy orb. Soft and ice-cold to the touch, it seemed almost alive, pulsing slightly in his palm.
Without hesitation, Otha pressed it against his forehead.
A shadowy smile crept across Steven's lips. His objective was achieved.
Theron watched Otha, mouth opening then closing in silence.
Pain twisted Lanny's features. "Otha! Let me do it instead!"
They all knew why Otha acted this way. His abilities had severely damaged his body; he had two years left at most, even if he retired from active duty.
Yet he'd chosen to remain on the front lines to secure a better future for his wife and children. As their captain, Otha always stood at the vanguard, shielding everyone from harm.
The Frostheart rapidly dissolved into Otha's forehead.
Neil, watching from a distance, froze in disbelief before his face lit up with savage joy.
He never imagined Otha would use Frostheart! Such Supernatural ability was unprecedented in Starlight City, with unstoppable offensive power.
And Neil knew Otha wouldn't live long—when he died, his power would transfer to Natasha, making her the strongest known Level 5 Psychic. Their ambitions would soon be within reach.
Unlike Nora, Otha showed no discomfort as he absorbed the Frostheart. Soon, a terrifying aura emanated from him, making even Steven tremble.
The others felt ice crawl up their spines—the instinctive reaction to encountering an apex predator.
Otha straightened his posture. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses, revealing pale gray eyes.
But now, those eyes held two brilliant points of light—radiant and divine, seemingly capable of perceiving all things.
"It's been so long since I've seen the world with my own eyes," he said.
Otha had regained his sight. A contented smile crossed his face.
He felt extraordinary—limitless power surged through him. In this moment, he was no longer a Level 4 gatekeeper but had officially crossed the threshold into Level 5.
Yet as this immense power emerged, a void seemed to open within him, growing larger by the second.
Power welled up from deep inside his body, only to drain away through this expanding hollow.
Frostheart had unleashed his potential but couldn't repair the fundamental flaw in his Supernatural ability—instead, it magnified it.
A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of Otha's mouth.
"Otha!" Lanny and the others cried out in alarm.
Otha raised his hand to silence them. In a deep, gentle voice, he told everyone: "Close your eyes."
They all obeyed, ceasing their attacks. The undeterred corpse horde howled as it surged forward like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf them.
Then, from the center of the horde, a light erupted—brighter than the sun, more radiant and vast than anything they'd ever witnessed.
No one could clearly see what happened. They couldn't even hear anything except the soft, steady footsteps of someone walking toward dawn.
Despite Otha's warning, Steven quietly deployed his Dimension Door and opened his eyes. He wanted to witness the fully awakened Otha's true power.
His Dimension Door would protect him from indirect effects—he could afford this glimpse.
Steven saw Otha's silhouette, hands in the pockets of his black coat, walking calmly forward.
White light engulfed everything. In the distance loomed dark shadows—the grotesque, horrifying corpse horde, countless and swarming.
But Otha ignored them as if they didn't exist. The moment those dense shadows appeared, they dissipated like smoke.
Steven swallowed hard.
Otha was releasing his final brilliance. After clearing the surrounding undead, he continued his assault, eliminating the greatest threat to his teammates.
This level of Supernatural ability would rapidly aggravate his internal injuries.
Steven watched his retreating figure, newfound respect dawning in his eyes.
Otha Soderberg, thank you for your sacrifice. Your death will not be in vain.
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