Infinite System Inheritor Return From The Abyss - Chapter 483

483: Chapter 481: Can’t do anything 483: Chapter 481: Can’t do anything Dayanara swam fast through the cold dark water.

Her chest burned from holding her breath and her ribs ached from the hit, but she forced her body to move.

Ahead of her, the giant Octobeast pulled Mist and his mother deeper and deeper.

Dayanara’s eyes widened as she saw the mother struggling, bubbles escaping her mouth while she tried to pull her son closer.

Then the mother looked back and saw Dayanara swimming toward them.

She shook her head hard, her face full of fear.

Dayanara reached out a hand, trying to grab both, but the current was strong and the tentacles were moving everywhere.

The mother’s lips moved as if she was trying to say something.

Her voice could not reach through the water, but Dayanara could read her lips clearly.

“Save him… please… save my son first.” Dayanara froze for a moment.

Her heart clenched.

The mother looked at her with desperate eyes, still pushing Mist toward her with all the strength left in her arms.

The boy cried bubbles and struggled to breathe, reaching toward Dayanara.

Then another shock hit.

A small tentacle wrapped around Dayanara’s leg, pulling her down.

She slashed it fast with her stick weapon, dark blue blood spilling into the water.

The smaller Octobeast shrieked and twisted, creating waves that made it harder to see.

Dayanara ignored the pain in her leg and swam harder toward Mist.

She reached him, cutting the thick tentacle that held him, and grabbed the child close to her chest.

The boy coughed weakly, his little body trembling.

She looked back.

The mother was still trapped, the large Octobeast dragging her down into the dark.

The woman’s eyes met Dayanara’s one last time.

She smiled, even as her body disappeared into the deep.

Dayanara’s vision blurred with tears.

Her heart hurt as she kicked upward with all her strength, holding Mist tightly.

Bubbles rushed around them.

Her arms felt heavy, her lungs ready to burst.

But she kept swimming, faster and faster, until her head broke through the surface.

She gasped loudly, sucking in the air.

Mist coughed and cried in her arms, and Dayanara held him close, breathing hard.

Dayanara gasped for air, her chest heaving.

The cold wind brushed against her wet face as she held Mist tightly against her.

But before she could calm her breathing, a deep rumbling sound echoed from below the water.

Then came a voice – rough, cruel, and echoing inside her head.

“You saved one… and lost another.

Pathetic human.” Dayanara’s eyes widened as she looked down.

The dark water rippled unnaturally, and the voice continued to mock her.

“You think you are strong enough to protect anyone?

You could not even save them both.” A dark laugh followed, low and echoing, coming from the giant Octobeast beneath the waves.

Mist’s small body trembled.

He fell to his knees on the muddy ground beside the river, crying loud and desperate.

“Please, save my mom!

Please!” Dayanara clenched her fists, her heart twisting in pain.

She looked at Mist and then at the water.

Her mind screamed that it was too late, that no one could survive that deep.

But her lips moved on their own.

“It’s never too late,” she muttered.

Without another thought, she jumped back into the river.

The cold hit her body like ice, but she forced her arms to move.

Her legs kicked hard, her eyes burning as she searched through the darkness.

The Octobeast’s laughter filled the water again, mocking her.

“Foolish woman.

You’ll join her soon.” Dayanara ignored it.

Her lungs screamed for air, but she kept going.

Her eyes caught a faint shimmer – the woman’s hair floating, tangled in the tentacle’s grip.

“Not today,” Dayanara growled.

She swam fast and swung her weapons, slashing through the tentacles again and again until dark blood filled the water.

The beast roared, shaking the river, but Dayanara didn’t stop.

She reached the woman and wrapped an arm around her, pulling hard.

With a final strike, she cut through the last tentacle holding the mother and kicked upward, dragging her through the swirling dark.

She broke through the surface, gasping and coughing.

Her arms felt like stone, but she didn’t let go.

Mist ran toward them the moment he saw her.

“Mom!” Mist cried, falling to his knees as Dayanara pulled the woman onto the riverbank.

Dayanara pulled the woman out of the water, gasping for breath.

Her hands shook as she placed the mother on the ground.

Mist cried and knelt beside her, holding her cold hand tightly.

Dayanara pressed her palms on the woman’s chest, pushing again and again.

“Come on, breathe,” she said with a trembling voice.

But the woman did not move.

Her lips were pale and her eyes half-open, staring at nothing.

Mist’s cries grew louder, calling for his mother again and again.

“Mom, please wake up.

Please.” Dayanara froze.

The sound of his cries stabbed her chest like a blade.

Her hands fell to her sides, trembling.

The world around her felt quiet except for Mist’s voice.

She looked at the lifeless body, then at the boy crying over it.

Her heart twisted painfully as her mind drifted back to the past.

Smoke.

Screams.

The heat of fire crawling through the wooden walls of a small house.

She remembered herself as a child, small and weak, standing in front of a burning door.

On the other side, her parents were trapped.

She pulled the handle with all her strength, but it was too heavy.

Her hands were shaking, her tears falling, her voice too small.

“Please help,” she had cried.

“Mom, Dad, I can’t open it.” The fire spread fast, the air thick with smoke, and the sound of her parents faded.

Now, in front of her, Mist’s cries pulled her back to the present.

The same helplessness filled her chest.

She reached for him slowly, her fingers brushing his trembling shoulders.

Even now, she thought, even after all these years, I still can’t do anything.

Her vision blurred with tears as she looked at the boy hugging his mother’s lifeless body.

The sky was quiet, the air cold.

She bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry, but her voice came out soft and broken.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t save her.” Mist didn’t answer.

He only cried harder, his small body shaking as he buried his face against his mother’s chest.

Dayanara sat there beside them, her hands resting weakly on her knees.

The weight in her chest was heavy, the same feeling she carried from her childhood, the same pain of watching someone she wanted to protect slip away right in front of her.

“Even now,” she murmured, “I still can’t do anything.”