Chapter 95: THE PANDORA’S CODEX ARC; PROTECTIVENESS BARRIER

Chapter 95: Chapter 95: THE PANDORA’S CODEX ARC; PROTECTIVENESS BARRIER

Noel was already getting up.

The boy rose slowly from the ground, one hand pressed against his burned shoulder. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, and the skin across the shoulder was blackened and blistered. His clothes were torn, and dirt streaked his face. The attack had damaged him more severely than Theon had expected.

But the damage had not weakened his hatred.

Noel lifted his head.

His expression had changed completely. The cold composure he had worn earlier was gone, along with the detached confidence of someone who believed the outcome had already been decided. Pain twisted his features, but beneath it burned a rage that seemed to consume whatever reason remained.

"You little wretch," he snarled.

The words were aimed at Lyra, and Theon felt her flinch against his chest.

"You actually hurt me." Noel’s good hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "You actually made me bleed."

His voice shook with disbelief. It was not only the pain that enraged him. It was the insult. Lyra had challenged the image he had created of himself. He had expected her to cower. He had expected Theon to fall, and had expected to control every second of the encounter.

Instead, a frightened child had forced him to stumble.

Noel could not accept it.

He started forward.

His movements were less fluid now, and one shoulder remained stiff, but there was no less danger in the way he advanced. His sword dragged slightly through the air as he adjusted his grip, compensating for the injury. He kept his gaze fixed on Lyra, watching her with the single-minded focus of someone who had decided that her death was the only way to restore his wounded pride.

Theon shifted Lyra higher against his chest.

"Do not look at him," he murmured.

Lyra’s fingers tightened faintly in his clothing. She wanted to obey, but she could feel Noel’s presence drawing closer. She could hear the soft crunch of his boots against the earth. She could sense the violence gathering around him.

Theon saw the killing intent in Noel’s face.

He saw the way Noel’s grip tightened around the weapon and saw the subtle shift in his posture, the slight lowering of his center of gravity that came just before an attack.

Noel rushed toward Lyra.

Theon saw it.

He felt the sword’s arc cut through the air toward her.

There was no time left for hesitation.

No time to search for another strategy.

No time to wonder whether he could survive the cost.

The blade was already descending.

Theon had spent his entire life fearing the moment when he would be unable to protect Lyra. He had imagined it in countless nightmares, each one ending with her small hand slipping from his grasp. He had promised himself that such a moment would never come. He had promised their parents, promised Lyra, and promised the frightened child he had once been that he would always stand between her and the darkness.

Now that promise demanded everything from him.

He called upon World Archive.

The presence answered at once.

Calm.

Mechanical.

Emotionless.

Its arrival was not comforting. It did not share his fear or recognize the urgency twisting through his chest. It simply appeared inside his mind with the same detached clarity it had always possessed.

"How can I save Lyra?" Theon’s voice was raw, stripped of everything except the need.

World Archive presented the options without inflection.

[Sacrifice one year of your life to unlock Limit Break. Or sacrifice one year of your life to create a protective shield around Lyra.]

For one brief instant, the two choices hovered before him.

Limit Break could give him the power to fight. It could strengthen his body, restore his ability to use magic, and perhaps give him a chance to defeat Noel before the boy struck again.

But Lyra did not need revenge.

She did not need Theon to win.

She only needed him to live.

The sword continued downward.

Theon’s decision came without pause.

"Protect Lyra."

The cost settled into him immediately.

There was no dramatic warning, no chance to reconsider. A year of his life was torn away in a single instant. The loss moved through him like an invisible wound, reaching into something deeper than flesh or magic. For a moment, he felt the shape of time itself being pulled from his existence.

One year.

One year of mornings he would never see.

One year of days that would vanish before they arrived.

The thought barely registered before power surged through him.

It was focused and absolute. It did not spread wildly through his body or respond to his anger. It gathered around the one thing he had chosen to protect.

Lyra.

A massive shield erupted around her.

Radiant light burst across the clearing, bright enough to paint the trees in silver and gold. The barrier formed in layered rings, each one rotating around Lyra’s small body. Translucent energy rose from the ground and curved overhead, creating a protective shell between her and the falling blade.

The sword crashed into it.

The detonation of force shook the air.

A violent shockwave exploded outward, flattening the grass and sending loose stones skittering across the ground. The collision of magic and steel rang out like a physical blow, a deep metallic boom that echoed through the trees. The shield flared beneath the impact, its surface rippling like water struck by a heavy object.

But it held.

Noel’s sword stopped against the radiant barrier.

His expression twisted in disbelief.

He pushed harder, his injured shoulder straining as he poured his remaining strength into the weapon. The blade vibrated against the shield, throwing off sparks of white light. For a second, it seemed as though his fury might force a path through the magical defense.

It did not.

The shield rejected him.

The impact hurled Noel backward, driving him away from the barrier in a violent arc. He lost his grip on the ground and was thrown several meters across the clearing before landing heavily on his back. His sword slipped from his hand and struck the earth beside him.

The silence that followed felt unreal.

Theon remained on his knees, holding Lyra close while the shield continued to glow around her. His body shook from the cost of the spell, and his breathing came in uneven gasps. He could feel the stolen year sitting inside him like an empty space, a missing piece of his future that would never return.

Yet Lyra remained untouched behind the light.

Her breathing was still weak, but she was alive.

Theon lowered his head until his forehead rested gently against hers.

"I told you," he whispered, though his voice trembled with exhaustion. "I’ll handle the rest."

And In that moment, Lyra allowed herself to believe him.

The shield shone around them, separating her from Noel and the deadly clearing beyond it. She could hear Theon’s heartbeat against her ear. It was uneven and tired, but it was there. That sound became the only thing she held on to as darkness gathered at the edges of her mind.

Outside the shield, Noel slowly turned his head toward them.

His burned shoulder throbbed. His body ached from the fireball and the force of the impact. His pride had been shattered more completely than his bones. Yet as he stared at the glowing protection surrounding Lyra, his anger gave way to something colder.

He had underestimated them and had mistaken fear for weakness.

And now Theon had revealed that he possessed a power Noel had not anticipated.

The boy’s hand curled against the dirt. But the Battle was not over. for this one brief moment, Lyra was safe.

Until......

{Bonus Chapter}