Wednesday: The Strongest Psychic

Chapter 257: I missed you

A repulsive, wet, and unnatural sound erupted from Vespera’s body.

Her arm.

With it, he seized Margaret’s body just before the energy inside her collapsed.

“Hey, don’t say that in front of the kid, it’ll hurt her feelings,” Luke said with a regretful expression.

Luke raised an eyebrow, “Interesting,” he murmured.

A green shimmer ran along his fingers. The healing aura flowed, closing the wound as if it had never been there.

The Spellman servant hadn’t lasted even a full minute against Luke.

Both advanced with renewed ferocity. And this time, they noticed the difference. Vespera was still strong, still wielded darkness skillfully, and her physical strength remained formidable. But something had diminished. Her reflexes, her pressure, her endurance, it was as if her body could no longer keep pace.

With a sweeping motion, she struck Anna in the chest with the scythe’s handle, folding her like paper.

But it wasn’t just the regeneration that caught his attention. There was a visible change.

Margaret, already on the verge of imploding, couldn’t fight against Luke’s telekinetic grip.

Luke dodged the first strike effortlessly. His intent-sensing alone was enough, he didn’t even need to use his future vision.

“I brought our daughter,” Luke said anyway, with a calm, teasing, and yet strangely sincere voice.

Eclipse hovered in the air like a living blade.

It was growing.

The dual-aura psychic, now missing an arm, wounded, and exhausted, was barely hanging on.

The Spellman servant.

“And I brought her to fight. So technically… it’s a family activity.” f|re(e)web.n\ovel. (c)o.m

The servant collapsed sideways but was still alive. Gasping. Trying to move.

The price of her regeneration had been time. A loan paid with youth, and perhaps, with power.

She stood on her toes, and kissed him.

He placed his hand over the bald head, fingers tightly gripping the deformed skull like he was holding disposable trash. The servant barely managed to lift his eyes. There was no plea in them, only the dark resignation of someone who knew this was the end.

But even as he dispatched that threat, Luke never stopped controlling his sword.

But the battlefield had changed, it was far more manageable.

However…

She was a high-ranking Spellman, full of information that could be extracted. Far too valuable to kill unnecessarily.

And hurled her.

His fists were wrapped in telekinetic energy, not a diffuse aura, but compact spheres so dense they looked like liquid crystal.

A titanic explosion lit up the heavens as if the sun itself had erupted.

’To the sky, old woman,’ Luke thought.

Luke knew that between Eclipse and Wednesday, it was only a matter of seconds before they brought her down… and more importantly, captured her alive.

His clairvoyance, a constant flow of possibilities, flickered with a brutal vision.

Anna and Jane had regrouped after barely dodging Luke’s earlier attack. They were injured, but still standing.

Before Jane could scream or her sister react, dark cords erupted from her own shadow and wrapped around her, slamming her to the ground.

Where once there was only a bleeding stump, flesh began to bloom in reverse, as if time were compressing itself, accelerating regeneration. Bone, muscle, skin, all reconstructed in a matter of seconds. Her cracked ribs shifted back into place beneath her pale skin, and the blood, once gushing out, was reabsorbed as if the air itself refused to let her die.

He raised his fists.

“If I had the time, I’d torture you until you begged me to end it… but lucky you.”

Eclipse flew back to his hand, tracing a curve in the air like a sharp, loyal shadow. He caught it effortlessly, like the weapon and its master were one.

’Damn Poe…’ thought Margaret. She realized Luke hadn’t even tried to kill her, just to amputate her remaining arm.

The servant roared and charged.

Wednesday shot him a deadly glare. Then she sighed.

He propelled himself upward with telekinetic flight at impossible speed, and at the same time extended his telekinetic power.

Now that she no longer had to defend herself from Vespera or other attacks, fighting Anna and Jane felt like switching to easy mode.

“I know,” Luke replied, unmoving.

Jaw, shattered.

The loving gaze vanished, replaced by a cold gleam in his eyes.

Wednesday wasted no time.

And besides… he always liked fighting this way.

“Luke,” said Wednesday, with a coldness that could freeze the air, “You’re using a battle against two demonic elders to reinforce a parenthood narrative that doesn’t exist.”

A brief spray of blood burst forth like a black flower in the air, hot and silent. The spine snapped with a wet crack, and the body collapsed without ceremony.

“We’ll have this conversation later,” she declared, turning with elegance to return to the fight.

’He reminds me of the Tyrant from Resident Evil…’ Luke thought as he headed toward him. He planned to fight him hand-to-hand.

Margaret, once overpowered and captured, was going to self-implode.

Wednesday rolled her eyes subtly, but a faint smile, almost imperceptible, formed on her lips.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Nyra and Alecto were fulfilling their task with flawless precision: keeping Aldric busy. It was a titanic effort. Aldric showed no signs of exhaustion, but he couldn’t advance either. His momentum had been sealed in a tactical stalemate. And that was enough for now.

Behind them, in the sky, the explosion still burned. The kiss was short, but intense. Not passionate, intimate.

The Spellman twins: captured.

Wednesday closed her eyes for a second, not in affection, but in pure frustration. When she opened them again, they were sharp as blades.

Then he let go.

Slowly, he raised his other hand and caressed her cheek. There was a cut, barely bleeding. A crimson line across her pale skin.

He wasn’t just trained in telekinesis, telepathy, and clairvoyance. His body now had the physical strength of five tons thanks to the awakening of his fourth aura. His muscles were denser, his speed sharper, his endurance greater. But that wasn’t all.

Twenty-five tons of contained force. Each strike was a divine hammer.

Vespera’s icy, ethereal beauty vanished. The delicate features of a woman who looked no older than thirty suddenly withered. Her skin dulled, her cheekbones grew sharper. The veins in her hands bulged. Wrinkles carved deep lines across her forehead like trenches etched by force. She now looked like a woman in her sixties.

Luke wasn’t looking toward Wednesday, nor was he helping Enid and Reina. His attention was now locked on a tall, disfigured figure moving to assist the enemy.

Eclipse was now teaming up with Wednesday, fighting Margaret.

The shockwave was visible for miles, forming a cloud of fire and black energy with violet edges, expanding slowly like an apocalyptic mushroom.

The head remained suspended in Luke’s hand for a moment, still frozen in a snarl of rage.

A suicidal act, her last resort.

Margaret’s one-armed body shot upward like a vertical projectile, piercing the sky in the blink of an eye. Barely a second later…

“You shouldn’t be saying that,” she whispered. “There are still two demonic elders standing.”

Luke watched her walk away, a look of both pride and love in his eyes.

He struck the enemy in the stomach with his reinforced fist. A crunching sound echoed. The servant doubled over but didn’t fall.

Knee, broken.

And then she attacked.

Luke looked back, straight into her eyes.

Wednesday pulled away first, just slightly. Her lips still parted, her breath quiet. In her eyes, the perpetual storm of her mind still raged, but for a moment… it seemed calm.

And then, with a swift twist of his wrist, he tore the head from the body like one opens a bottle, effortlessly.

His lips curved slightly.

Over two meters tall. His face looked as if it had been torn off and sewn back on. One of those bodies that inspired fear just by existing, a nightmare to any normal person.

Enid and Reina did.

Wednesday looked at him.

Luke landed in front of Wednesday just before the blast reached them.

“She’s not our daughter.”

Luke clenched his grip.

Enid and Reina came to an abrupt halt.

“Bitch!” Jane shouted, trying to summon her power, but before even a spark could ignite in her right hand, Wednesday sliced it clean off. Not the whole arm. Just the hand.

His expression, which moments before had been warm, softened by Wednesday’s presence, shifted instantly.

A telekinetic barrier unfolded around them like a perfect dome, protecting them from the searing wind.

Luke spun on his heel and delivered a second blow to the face.

And with that, she punched Anna square in the jaw, knocking her unconscious.

Wednesday saw it coming.

He gently extended a hand and placed it around her waist to shield her.

Luke had no intention of dragging this out.

“She calls us Mom and Dad,” Luke replied, raising his eyebrows slightly.

BOOM.

Luke lowered his head slightly, resting his forehead against hers for an instant.

The sisters fought. They struggled. They even managed to wound her superficially.

’Crazy old hag,’ Luke thought, frowning, and vanished in a flash.

“But I missed you too,” she added.

Margaret, seeing this, rushed to help her granddaughters, but had to defend herself immediately against an attack that would have torn off her arm had she reacted a second too late. Correct content is on fr.eew eb novel..com

Anna then took a spinning kick to the jaw, sending her reeling and knocking out several teeth.

A low kick, reinforced with telekinesis and his physical strength.

Then, a faint smile, the half-smirk that both annoyed and charmed her, curved on his lips.

“Tsch,” Luke muttered, wiping his hand on his pants as if brushing off some bothersome dust.

“This is for my scorpion,” she whispered, as if she had been waiting years for this moment: revenge.

Anna and Jane Spellman.

’What the…?’ Anna thought, trying to struggle, but it was no use. Then black tendrils emerged beneath her, wrapping her tighter and tighter until she was forced to her knees, completely paralyzed.

“Sister!” Anna cried out, about to lunge at Wednesday, but she couldn’t move. Shadows were binding her limbs.

Wednesday, who had already defeated two of the hooded figures and trapped them in shadow, now fixed her gaze on her old “friends.” She began walking toward them with firm steps.

But Wednesday was no longer the weak girl with a murdered pet. She was a genius, one far stronger than both of them combined. One of the most dangerous teenage outcasts, just like Luke, far above average for her age.

Wednesday approached and looked down at her with an icy gaze. She placed the blade of her scythe under Anna’s chin, lifting her face to meet her eyes.

In the distance, the roar of a new impact echoed through broken trees and darkness. Aldric was still standing. So was Vespera.

It fell with a dull thud, bouncing once on the grass.

“I missed you,” Luke said softly, as if the battle had momentarily paused.

Luke didn’t strike. Not yet.

Dark mist coiled around her fingers, and her scythe still crackled as if yearning for a second dance.

“Don’t say it,” she warned in a dry tone.

“Let’s finish this…” murmured Luke.

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