Chapter 542 Incurable
Natasha's vision blurred around the edges. She strained to look at Steven, but his silhouette dissolved into smears of shadow.
The pain in her head intensified, a vise tightening with each heartbeat. A primal sense of danger crept through her veins.
"Steven, what have you done to me?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Answer me!"
From a safe distance, Steven watched her suffer. Now that his trap was sprung, he felt no need to rush.
The supernatural backlash consuming her was untreatable. Once it began, deterioration was inevitable.
"Should I tell you?" Steven's lips curled into a cold smile. "What do you think?"
He wouldn't give her even a chance to unravel his strategy.
Though his meticulously crafted plan was finally bearing fruit, he couldn't afford carelessness in these final moments.
Natasha fixed him with a withering glare. She was certain now that Steven had somehow triggered an ability that was causing her body to break down.
"You arrogant bastard," she hissed.
Brilliant white light suddenly emanated from her body, enveloping her form in a luminous cocoon. This was her ability [Blessing], capable of healing all wounds and disease.
But this time, something was terribly wrong. Not only did her symptoms persist, but as she channeled more power, her vision deteriorated further and the splitting headache intensified.
A sharp pain knifed through her chest. She doubled over, wracked with violent coughing.
Steven wouldn't miss such an opportunity. No moment of respite. No mercy.
Only the dead could be trusted.
"Martial Prowess!" he shouted.
The devastating ability lanced toward Natasha. Sensing imminent danger, she countered with Oblivion!
She managed to block the attack, but her condition plummeted further.
From a distance, the incapacitated survivors watched the battle unfold. Seeing Natasha's sudden physical breakdown left them bewildered.
They hadn't witnessed Steven use any technique that could cause such symptoms. Having known him for so long, they understood his capabilities—he was a spatial Psychic without poison-based abilities.
Besides, poisoning a Level 5 Psychic mid-battle was virtually impossible.
When Theron saw Natasha's coughing fit, realization dawned on his face.
"It's Otha's ability," he said quietly.
The investigation team members all understood at once.
The Psychics of Starlight City weren't familiar with the defects in Otha's Supernatural ability, but they were.
"After absorbing Otha's power," Eris murmured, "she inherited its side effects too."
She turned to Theron, eyes wide. "Did Steven orchestrate this, or was it coincidence?"
It seemed too perfect to be chance.
But if Steven had calculated this from the beginning, then when he had Otha use Frostheart earlier, he had already factored Otha into his grand design.
"That manipulative bastard," Lanny cursed from his sleeping bag, voice weak. "He played us all along!"
"No, he did what was necessary," Theron replied calmly. "In that situation, it was our only chance for survival. I think Otha realized Steven's intentions but had no choice."
Theron watched the combatants, newfound respect in his eyes. "To orchestrate such an elaborate chess game—it's remarkable. Even we became pieces in his hand."
Despite the discomfort of being manipulated, Theron couldn't help admiring Steven's strategic brilliance.
"Remarkable my ass," Lanny spat. "This guy, I'm going to... I'll..." His fury nearly caused him to lose consciousness.
"Enough," Eris soothed. "What happens here isn't our concern right now. You need to rest."
Seeing Natasha finally faltering, everyone felt a surge of hope. They glimpsed a chance for survival. Only if Steven defeated Natasha would they have any chance of living—this much was clear to everyone.
Meanwhile, Steven consumed food to replenish his energy while maintaining distance from Natasha.
She was deteriorating rapidly, vision clouding and body betraying her.
Steven ceased using Martial Prowess; the ability drained him considerably. He needed to conserve strength until the battle's conclusion.
He knew perfectly well that if Natasha fell, the survivors wouldn't miss such a precious opportunity. The essence of a Level 5 Psychic was too tempting a meal.
Steven switched tactics, drawing Otha's handgun. Mutant Bullet!
The weapon was larger than standard models, with an elongated barrel. Black bullets erupted from it, carrying devastating power.
Against ordinary targets, its effects weren't remarkable. Against Psychics, however, its destructive potential was catastrophic.
Even in amateur hands it could wound Natasha. In Steven's possession, it was lethal.
Using spatial jumps, Steven continuously evaded Natasha's attacks while capitalizing on moments when pain disrupted her concentration.
Each Mutant Bullet carried potential annihilation.
Natasha could have used Telekinesis for high-speed evasion.
But initially, she refused to dodge.
Evading meant admitting she was on the defensive—unacceptable to someone who considered herself a divine emissary.
So she chose to counter the bullets directly with Telekinesis!
This accelerated her power consumption exponentially.
And the backlash from Otha's ability intensified with each passing second.
Eventually, Natasha realized her critical error.
But she was trapped. If she stopped using her abilities, Steven would kill her instantly. Around her, Psychics waited eagerly for her downfall.
"Am I going to lose?"
The thought crossed her mind for the first time.
She refused to accept it. She and Neil had planned meticulously for this day. She had harvested dozens of Psychic abilities, including elite powers like Otha's.
She had believed herself invincible—that no one in Starlight City could withstand a single strike from her.
Yet Steven, this anomaly, had backed her into a corner.
In raw offensive power, he shouldn't have been a threat. Martial Prowess was formidable but limited in range. If she wanted to flee, he couldn't stop her.
But Steven's defensive capabilities were impenetrable.
Even as a Level 5 Psychic, Natasha couldn't break through his defenses.
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