Chapter 541 Toxin
Steven and Natasha clashed again in fierce combat, their battle reshaping the landscape around them. Her failure to defeat him despite prolonged assault filled her with mounting frustration.
It wasn't lack of power holding her back—just limited combat experience. Steven's taunts only strengthened her resolve to kill him where he stood.
With each attack, she unleashed devastating combinations of abilities—fire dragons coiling through the air, ice spears materializing from nothing, and gravitational forces that crushed everything in their path. Yet Steven's dimensional defenses remained impenetrable.
As the battle continued, Natasha's discomfort became increasingly apparent. Her mind spun with powerful nausea. The world before her eyes blurred. These sensations intensified whenever she unleashed her powers, her limbs beginning to tremble with each exertion.
She realized this wasn't emotional or some sudden illness. Halting mid-air, she clutched her forehead, her pristine white hair now clinging to her sweat-drenched face.
"What... what have you done to me?" Her voice carried both rage and a hint of fear.
Seeing Natasha's reaction, Steven's smile grew triumphant. 'So it had begun.' He needed to guide her step by step into the abyss, pushing her to exhaust more of her stolen powers.
"It seems you still can't control the powers you've stolen," Steven taunted, dodging a blast of energy with casual grace. "Perhaps those vengeful spirits now haunt you, causing your suffering! All those disciples you murdered, Neil whom you betrayed—they want their pound of flesh."
Natasha glared venomously. His words pierced her heart, sowing doubt. To become stronger, she had killed countless Psychics who had used Frostheart—loyal followers and even Neil. Their faces flashed through her mind, a parade of the dead she had stepped over to reach her current height.
"Shut up! What could you possibly know about me?" She channeled her rage into raw power.
She fought through pain to launch another fierce attack. The earth shattered beneath them, great chunks of concrete and stone rising into the air. Storm clouds rolled across the sky, darkening the battlefield.
Flames boiled from cracks in the ground. Ice surged in waves that froze everything they touched. Her arsenal of Supernatural abilities came as easily as breathing.
Yet against Steven, none could inflict real harm. His Dimensional Shield absorbed her attacks, sometimes redirecting them back toward their source. Each time she launched a new offensive, he seemed to vanish and reappear elsewhere, making her feel like she was fighting a ghost.
He resembled an unbreakable toy—withstanding overwhelming attacks yet remaining upright through the tempest. His only weakness was inferior Supernatural Energy reserves.
But he had two advantages: Sebastian's ability enhancement coursing through his veins and his massive stockpile of Supernatural ability food, which he consumed between dodges.
This battle served a purpose beyond survival. Each time Natasha unleashed her powers, Steven noticed the tremors in her body growing more pronounced. Her physical deterioration proved his plan was working. This was his Plan B: Supernatural ability toxin.
Plan A had relied on forcing Natasha and Neil to cripple their own abilities for peace. That failed, so Plan B activated—with Otha's toxin-carrying ability as its lynchpin. A gamble, but one based on careful observation.
This world contained countless mutations, not all beneficial. Otha's ability had a critical flaw: each technique cost him his sight and inflicted permanent damage to his body.
Mutations occurred at the genetic level, beyond medicine's reach—a perfect trap for someone who greedily absorbed others' powers.
When Natasha absorbed Supernatural abilities from Frostheart's hosts, she inevitably absorbed their negative aspects too. The cancer along with the cure.
Steven hadn't merely guessed this. Chase's letter mentioned a priestess whose ice-breath abilities damaged her lungs. Later, Natasha had exhibited the exact same distinctive cough after killing the woman and stealing her power.
This led Steven to conclude Natasha absorbed not just abilities but also their mutated negative energies—the foundation of Plan B. He just needed to push her to use Otha's power repeatedly.
The drawback of Otha's power was known only to Steven. Natasha remained ignorant of Oblivion's terrible price. The stronger the power she used, the greater the backlash. Like radiation poisoning, it accumulated with each use.
All Steven needed was to force her into a battle of attrition. He glanced at his watch—they had been fighting for nearly twenty minutes now. Each moment pushing her closer to the edge.
Starlight City's defenders had engaged Natasha in a relay battle. The investigation squad and faction Psychics had depleted her first wave. Only after their defeat did Steven step in, fresh and prepared with his hidden strategy.
If he killed Natasha, not only would the crisis end, but no one could compete for her essence—a Level 5 Psychic's essence! Absorbing her power meant absorbing dozens of Supernatural abilities at once.
He deliberately provoked her to prevent escape, knowing exactly which buttons to push.
"I know you hate this world. But you're hardly innocent! If your parents hadn't established that cult, swindling followers of their money, you wouldn't have ended up in such circumstances." He watched her eyes widen, knowing he had struck a nerve.
Natasha's pupils contracted violently. That history was her deepest shadow—the part she refused to face. Her breathing became erratic, hands clenching into fists so tight that blood dripped between her fingers.
Steven's words forced her to confront those memory fragments.
Her parents' death in that fiery plane crash. The funeral where enraged followers overturned their coffins, spitting on their remains. The mob that attacked her, a young girl guilty only of being born to the wrong parents.
The endless, inhuman torment that followed.
Neil charging in like a wounded animal to save her, only to be pinned down. No matter how he begged, his eyes bloodshot, those people never stopped what they were doing to her.
For a day and night, pain drilled into her marrow until she doubted she could survive.
Natasha suddenly clutched her head, releasing a despairing wail! A tremendous force erupted like a storm, sweeping outward with her at its center, the most powerful burst of energy yet—and likely her last.
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