V2. Chapter 33: — Clash of Monsters |
It seemed as though the space before the entrance to the Imperial Palace had frozen.
Even the sounds of battle below now felt distant and muffled. Kael’s heart pounded heavily in his chest, and his body could barely withstand the pressure of the mighty auras. The air around him seemed to have turned into a viscous mass, making it difficult to breathe.
Gritting his teeth, Kael slowly began crawling backward, closer to Elder Cornelius.
“Damn it…” he cursed inwardly, feeling his hands tremble. “If not for the Archmagisters’ auras, this Mor’zak would have crushed me with his mere presence…”
And even as he retreated, Kael could not tear his eyes away from what was happening ahead.
For the first time, he was witnessing Spiritual Weapon Mages who had stopped holding back.
Al-Hakim and Sylvain had already completely merged with their contracted spirits.
Archmagister Al-Hakim’s golden mana had become so dense that his body began to resemble a living statue made of metal. Runes slowly moved beneath his skin, while his eyes glowed with a dim golden light.
Sylvain looked even more terrifying.
But in the next moment, Kael noticed something even more important.
Al-Hakim’s right hand suddenly began shining with brilliant golden light, while Sylvain’s back erupted with a white-blue radiance.
“So those are their Spiritual Weapons…” Kael thought.
Behind Sylvain, a gigantic white fan adorned with beautiful blue patterns appeared almost instantly. It unfurled behind him like a peacock’s tail, while delicate frost patterns slowly spread across its entire surface.
At the same time, a massive golden grimoire materialized in Al-Hakim’s hand.
The book looked ancient. Its corners were reinforced with heavy metal, and living runes moved across the cover, as though something inside the grimoire was breathing.
And the moment the Spiritual Weapons fully manifested, the auras of the two Archmagisters seemed to rise to an entirely different level.
Kael immediately shifted his gaze toward Guro and Seraphina, noting inwardly, “And those two seem to have had their Spiritual Weapons out for quite a while already…”
His eyes swept over the phantom moon still hanging above Seraphina’s head, then shifted toward the eight floating eyes surrounding Guro.
But in the next moment, both Archmagisters also began merging with their contracted spirits.
Silvery gleams slowly spread across Seraphina’s body, as though moonlight itself had begun seeping beneath her skin. Her turquoise hair gradually lightened, taking on a silver sheen, while her pupils stretched into the shape of crescent moons.
Then enormous translucent butterfly wings unfolded behind her back.
Blue-turquoise and covered in intricate glowing patterns, they moved slowly, scattering tiny sparks of mana through the air.
“Moon Moth…” Kael recognized instantly.
But then Kael’s gaze shifted to Guro, and a chill involuntarily ran down his spine.
The old man’s face began to change.
New eye sockets opened one after another across his skin—on his temples, cheeks, forehead, and even along his neck. Within them, multicolored eyes slowly rotated, each moving independently of the others as they continuously surveyed the surrounding space.
“Rainbow Celestial Watcher…” Kael breathed inwardly. “Those two possess remarkably powerful spirits…”
Kael quickly glanced at Sylvain and Al-Hakim, adding inwardly, “Then again, so do they… Looks like a Golden Asura and a Snow Nine-Tailed Fox.”
But at that moment, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Mor’zak’s roar: “Out of my way!”
With those words, the old beastfolk sharply raised his jade brush and swung it forward with monstrous force.
The space before him seemed to shudder.
Dark-green ink burst from the tip of the brush in a massive wave, while dozens of mouths along the handle roared simultaneously, filling the air with a hideous wail. The ink did not resemble ordinary liquid in the slightest—it moved like a living mass, spreading outward and distorting the very air around it.
Seeing this, Al-Hakim clenched his teeth.
His golden grimoire snapped open on its own in a flash, the pages within flipping frantically, and the Archmagister only had time to thrust his hand forward.
And in the next instant, a gigantic golden magic circle flared to life directly before the Archmagisters.
A deafening crash rang out.
The wave of dark-green ink slammed into Al-Hakim’s barrier with a thunderous crash, like an entire ocean of poison striking a golden wall. The surrounding space immediately shuddered, and deep fissures of light raced across the surface of the magic circle.
Several of the Elders behind the Archmagisters cried out at once from the pressure.
But Kael’s situation was far worse.
He suddenly coughed up blood, feeling as though an invisible hand had crushed his chest. Every old injury in his body seemed to awaken at once. Aiden’s lightning burns flared with searing pain once more, his ribs cracked unpleasantly, and a wave of weakness swept through his body.
“Kghaah! Damn it!” he roared, spraying blood across the white marble steps.
His consciousness wavered.
For several seconds, his vision blurred, and his arms began to give out, no longer able to properly support his body.
“This is bad…” Kael thought, feeling his arms give way beneath him.
In the next moment, his arms finally buckled, and he crashed heavily onto the cold marble staircase.
Everything before his eyes swam.
Lying on the ground, he could only watch as Mor’zak’s dark-green ink scattered across the sky like poisonous rain before beginning to shower the broad staircase. Wherever the droplets landed, the marble instantly blackened and began to melt, while the air filled with a corrosive hissing.
But something else troubled Kael even more.
Mor’zak’s body continued to change.
Across his neck, chest, and arms, fang-filled mouths began opening one after another, resembling those that covered the jade brush. Thick green liquid continuously flowed from these mouths, slowly running down his fur and dripping onto the ground.
Then the beastfolk’s very face began to change.
Mor’zak’s lower jaw stretched forward unnaturally, and two long greenish fangs slowly grew from his mouth, coated in viscous slime.
“What a rarity…” Kael murmured inwardly, barely holding on to consciousness. “Looks like… his spirit is the Thousand Poisons Maw…”
With that thought, Kael felt the world around him rapidly darkening.
The sounds of battle grew increasingly distant, while his body seemed to fill with lead. His consciousness slowly sank into a viscous void, and at some point he could barely feel his own hands anymore.
But at that very moment, someone abruptly grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him backward.
A moment later, foreign mana poured into his body—calm and warm. It slightly eased the pressure of the surrounding auras and allowed Kael to draw a ragged breath once more.
Cornelius’ familiar voice immediately rang out nearby: “Hey! Help me, or the boy will die!”
Kael could barely make out what was happening around him anymore.
Everything before his eyes was blurred, and his thoughts had begun to tangle. He only vaguely sensed himself being dragged away while the monstrous auras of the Archmagisters and Mor’zak continued to collide ahead.
“Damn it…” drifted sluggishly through his mind. “If they still lose even after my help… I’ll tear this damned Empire apart myself…”
Before completely losing consciousness, Kael managed to notice one more thing.
Wherever Mor’zak’s dark-green ink fell, dozens of fang-filled mouths began opening directly in the white marble. Screaming, they released dense green clouds into the air.
And in the very next moment, Kael’s consciousness finally went dark.
Standing over him, Cornelius gritted his teeth and said, “You’re full of surprises, kid...”
Without wasting a moment, he quickly shoved a pill into Kael’s mouth.
Meanwhile, the situation on the battlefield was rapidly worsening.
Black stains began spreading across Al-Hakim’s enormous golden barrier. Mor’zak’s dark-green ink was slowly devouring the golden light, while the runes upon the magic circle started dimming one after another.
And for the first time, Al-Hakim’s face truly twisted.
“Everyone retreat!” he roared sharply, issuing an order to the army below. “Leave the defense to us and run! Do not let the poisonous mist touch you!”
His voice, amplified by mana, rolled across the entire square before the Imperial Palace.
But the state of the troops was already dire.
The pressure of the auras from Mor’zak and the four Archmagisters had already begun literally pressing weaker mages to the ground. Some soldiers could barely remain standing, while blood streamed from the noses of several younger mages.
Even the beastfolk on the front lines looked frightened.
Especially after the appearance of the poisonous cloud.
The woman in crimson robes who had earlier used the censer sharply turned toward her people and roared furiously, “Retreat! Move!”
Immediately following her command, the Imperial forces began rapidly regrouping.
The front ranks locked shields and spears together, forming a sharp wedge, while the support mages instantly began casting protective techniques upon those retreating.
In the next moment, the Empire’s formation surged forward.
The soldiers literally carved a path through the beastfolk, no longer attempting to hold their positions. Spears ripped through flesh, swords severed limbs, and magic continuously exploded amidst the tangled ranks.
The beastfolk immediately tried to take advantage of the humans’ withdrawal and charged after them.
But at that moment, Seraphina sharply waved her hand.
The artificial moon hanging above the staircase blazed brighter, and a cold silver radiance spread across the entire square. The beastfolk’s shadows began to lengthen, then suddenly came alive, grabbing their legs and arms.
“You will stay here, vermin,” the Archmagister said coldly.
Meanwhile, Mor’zak’s poisonous mist continued spreading farther and farther.
Wherever it touched the ground, the marble blackened and melted, while the bodies of the dead began decomposing before the eyes of all who watched.
Mor’zak himself, observing everything that was happening, appeared remarkably calm.
“Your struggles are pointless,” he said hoarsely. “Sooner or later, your Dimension will become the domain of the Beast God anyway.”
Having said that, Mor’zak unexpectedly raised his free hand to his lips, as though preparing to recite a prayer.
And almost immediately, the ink scattered across the square began moving even more violently.
In addition to the fang-filled mouths, new figures slowly began rising from the viscous dark-green mass.
All of them quickly took on the appearance of Mor’zak himself—the same patchy green fur, the same cloudy eyes, and the same grotesque mouths covering their bodies.
Though their auras were noticeably weaker than the original’s, the pressure they emitted remained monstrous for most of those present.
Mor’zak merely gave a short grunt.
“You are of no interest to me,” he said coldly, slowly shifting his gaze toward the massive gates of the Imperial Palace.
And in the next instant, the entire staircase seemed to explode into motion.
Dozens of Mor’zaks lunged forward simultaneously, vanishing into the dense green mist and leaving long trails of poisonous ink behind them. Their movements were jerky and unnaturally fast, and every swing of their jade brushes left strange symbols hanging in the air, from which jets of thick poison almost immediately burst forth.
“Hold off the original!” Al-Hakim roared, rapidly flipping through the pages of his grimoire.
At that very moment, enormous golden magic circles began flaring to life one after another before the staircase.
They layered atop one another, forming a multilayered defense. The runes spun at a frenzied speed, and Al-Hakim’s mana became so dense that the space before the barriers began to tremble.
But the real Mor’zak did not even slow down.
The old beastfolk simply slammed shoulder-first into the first barrier.
A deafening crash rang out.
The golden surface lasted less than a second before the dark-green ink began rapidly devouring it from within. The runes dimmed, and then the entire barrier shattered into particles of light.
The second layer of defense became covered in cracks almost instantly.
And Mor’zak smashed through the third with his jade brush.
“This is bad!” Guro blurted out sharply. “His mana is far denser and more powerful than ours!”
At that very moment, all eight floating eyes surrounding the old man flared simultaneously.
Each artifact abruptly turned in its own direction, and a second later a true storm of elemental magic struck the staircase. Lightning tore through the air with a roar, fiery whirlwinds surged upward, and long metallic spikes burst from the marble.
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Several of Mor’zak’s clones were immediately torn apart.
But the real Mor’zak did not stop.
The dark-green ink on his body suddenly surged forward in a dense wave, like a living wall. Fire was instantly extinguished upon contact with it, lightning crackled and fell apart, and elemental mana was literally devoured by that viscous filth.
Mor’zak himself simply continued pressing forward.
“War... belongs to the strong,” he rasped. “Do not disgrace yourselves.”
And in the next moment, dark-green ink suddenly burst forth directly from beneath the Archmagisters’ feet.
Sylvain’s expression changed instantly, and he roared, “He burned tunnels underground! Watch out!”
But the warning came almost simultaneously with the attack.
Long tentacles covered in fang-filled mouths instantly shot upward from the suddenly appearing pools of poison. They surged skyward with such speed that some of the Magisters behind the Archmagisters did not even have time to react.
Two tentacles immediately latched onto Al-Hakim and Guro.
Yet at the very moment when it seemed the poison should have already touched their bodies, the figures of both Archmagisters suddenly blurred, like reflections upon water.
Space trembled slightly.
And in the very next second, Al-Hakim and Guro appeared ten paces away.
The tentacles struck only empty air.
Mor’zak sharply shifted his gaze toward Seraphina and the silver moon hanging above the staircase.
The mouths covering his body hissed irritably.
“Illusion spells?” he rasped in displeasure. “Fitting for weaklings like you.”
But Seraphina merely raised her hand sharply in response.
The phantom moon above the staircase immediately blazed with brilliant silver light.
And in the next instant, the surrounding space seemed to ripple.
Translucent reflections of the Archmagisters began appearing all across the staircase. Dozens of Al-Hakims, Sylvains, Guros, and Seraphinas emerged amidst the mist, perfectly mirroring the movements of the originals.
Mor’zak’s clones instantly charged forward.
With furious roars, they began smashing the phantoms with their jade brushes, tearing them apart with their mouths, and drowning them in poisonous ink. Yet every time, their attacks simply passed through, as though they were striking reflections upon water.
“Sylvain!” Seraphina shouted sharply.
At that same moment, Sylvain’s nine snow-white tails swept upward as though alive.
The Archmagister instantly unfurled his enormous ice fan.
The temperature across the staircase plummeted so abruptly that the air was almost immediately covered in frost, while portions of Mor’zak’s green mist began crystallizing in midair.
In the next moment, Sylvain swung his fan, and hundreds of ice blades shot forward simultaneously.
They sliced through the air with a deafening whistle, tearing apart the mist and literally shredding Mor’zak’s clones into pieces. Several spears pierced nearby duplicates clean through, instantly turning them into frozen statues that shattered together with the ink moments later.
Even the real Mor’zak slowed slightly for the first time.
Three massive ice spears slammed into his chest and shoulder simultaneously, genuinely piercing straight through his body for a moment.
Yet a second later, it became clear that something was wrong.
New mouths had appeared where the wounds should have been.
A sickening wet crack resounded.
The fang-filled mouths clamped directly onto the ice spears and began rapidly chewing them apart, as though Mor’zak’s flesh itself were devouring enemy magic. The ice swiftly darkened, became coated in greenish slime, and almost immediately began to decompose.
“What kind of monster is this…” Al-Hakim growled through clenched teeth.
His golden grimoire was already flipping through its pages on its own at such speed that they had become a blurred band of light. New golden barriers flared to life around Mor’zak one after another, attempting to slow his advance toward the gates of the Imperial Palace.
But Mor’zak continued walking forward calmly, as though all those defenses were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Every step he took was accompanied by the disgusting squelch of ink across the marble. The old beastfolk merely waved his jade brush casually, swiftly inscribing strange green runes upon the golden barriers. And the moment a symbol was completed, the barrier almost immediately exploded from within, scattering into streams of light and poisonous droplets.
The first.
Then the second.
And then the third.
Mor’zak was literally forcing his way forward through sheer brute strength.
But the moment another barrier was torn apart once again, Guro’s cold voice suddenly rang out, “Arrogant bastard…”
All eight eyes floating around the old man blazed brighter than before.
The space around Archmagister Guro immediately began trembling from the concentration of mana, while spheres of different elements slowly started forming around him. One blazed with fire, another crackled with lightning, a third spun as a vortex of wind, and a fourth looked like a compressed fragment of mountain stone. Beside them, a sphere of metal appeared almost immediately, along with two far more dangerous ones—filled with light and darkness.
Each sphere pulsed with its own elemental nature, causing the surrounding space to distort. Fire melted the air, lightning tore through it with crackling force, and near the sphere of darkness even the light itself seemed dimmer.
Guro himself looked strained. Sweat ran down his temple, and blood began flowing from several of the eyes on his face.
“I may not have much mana…” the old man said heavily. “But there are still a few things I know how to do in battle…”
And the moment those words were spoken, all eight spheres suddenly began rushing toward one another.
The elemental mana collided with a roar, causing the space around Guro to crack and tremble. Fire intertwined with lightning, wind twisted light and darkness into a single stream, while metal and earth mana compressed beneath monstrous pressure.
Then all the spheres abruptly merged into one.
For a brief moment, a dazzling rainbow star hung above the staircase.
And in the very next second, a colossal multicolored beam shot forward.
A monstrous explosion erupted.
The staircase was literally torn apart. Massive chunks of marble were hurled into the air, some of the steps gave way and collapsed below, and Mor’zak’s green mist was blasted aside by the shockwave.
For several seconds, the space ahead became true chaos of elements, creating flashes so bright that some of the Magisters’ eyes watered.
Even Sylvain and Al-Hakim tensed involuntarily as they watched the strike.
But in the very next moment, Mor’zak’s figure slowly emerged from the raging chaos.
The old beastfolk was still standing.
Parts of his body were now covered in deep cuts and burns, green ink was evaporating in places with a hissing sound, and one of the mouths on his chest had been completely torn apart. Yet the expression on his face had barely changed.
The same confidence remained in his cloudy eyes.
Mor’zak slowly bared his teeth, revealing long greenish fangs.
Then he leisurely raised his jade brush.
“At last…” he rasped. “Something interesting.”
But just as Mor’zak was about to swing his jade brush once more, a terrifying dragon’s roar suddenly echoed from far beyond the southern horizon.
The Archmagisters sharply turned toward the horizon. Mor’zak narrowed his eyes as well, his expression changing slightly for the first time.
And in the next moment, a small crimson silhouette appeared far in the distance.
It was approaching rapidly.
A red dragon was flying straight toward the Capital, leaving a long blood-crimson trail of mana in its wake.
But most importantly—there was a person standing on the dragon’s back.
A tall, blurred figure clad in dark armor held a long spear in his hand, its tip shining with crimson light. Even from such a distance, the pressure of his aura felt monstrous.
And the moment the Archmagisters saw that silhouette, relief appeared on their faces for the first time during all of this.
“General Salazar…” Al-Hakim exhaled heavily.
Even Sylvain crooked a smile, while the tension in Seraphina’s shoulders visibly eased.
But Mor’zak’s expression finally wavered.
The mouths covering his body hissed irritably, while the old beastfolk gritted his teeth and stared unblinkingly at the approaching dragon.
“Salazar?!” he cursed inwardly.
Even from this distance, the General’s aura felt monstrous. It pressed down upon the surrounding space like a massive slab, causing the air itself to tremble.
And the closer the crimson dragon drew, the more Mor’zak’s expression changed.
“Why is he here?” flashed furiously through his mind. “All the Generals should be on the front lines!”
Open rage blazed within his cloudy eyes.
“This is bad…” he growled inwardly. “Salazar will reach this place in about ten minutes. If I don’t finish in time, I’ll fail the Patriarch’s mission.”
And almost immediately, Mor’zak’s gaze became far more dangerous than before.
The old beastfolk abruptly pulled out an entire handful of dark pills and, without even flinching, tossed them into his mouth.
A disgusting crunch rang out.
And in the next instant, all the ink surrounding the staircase suddenly came to life.
Enormous puddles, fang-filled mouths, the remnants of destroyed clones, and even tiny droplets on the walls—all of it began flowing back toward Mor’zak at once.
The green mass surged toward his body with a roar, like a gigantic living torrent.
The Archmagisters’ expressions immediately changed.
“Back!” Guro roared sharply. “He’s about to burn a portion of his soul!”
“Protect our people!” Seraphina roared almost simultaneously.
She sharply waved her hand, and the phantom moon hanging above the staircase immediately descended. Silver radiance instantly enveloped the Elders and Magisters, forming an enormous translucent sphere around them.
Meanwhile, Al-Hakim retreated sharply while flipping through several pages of his grimoire at once. New golden barriers began flaring to life one after another before the Archmagisters.
Even Sylvain and Guro no longer attempted to attack Mor’zak.
Both Archmagisters also began retreating closer to their people, while Sylvain’s nine tails twitched tensely from side to side.
“Now it’s up to General Salazar…” Sylvain hissed.
Guro nodded heavily.
Several of the eyes on his face twitched nervously as they continued watching Mor’zak.
“Give it everything you have,” the old man said grimly. “If we make a mistake… a quarter of the Empire’s finest artisans will simply perish.”
By this point, Mor’zak had nearly completed his technique.
His body had swollen from the monstrous amount of mana coursing through it, muscles bulged beneath his green fur, and streams of dark ink continuously gushed from the cracks in his skin. Even the jade brush in his hands had begun slowly cracking under the overwhelming power flooding it. Thin green lines spread one after another across the handle, while the fang-filled mouths on the weapon roared so loudly that the air around them distorted.
Meanwhile, a gigantic magic circle was rapidly expanding beneath Mor’zak’s feet.
It was woven entirely from dense green ink and covered with thousands of moving symbols. The runes continuously shifted places, writhed, and seemed to crawl over one another, creating the impression of something alive.
Then Mor’zak opened his mouth.
And together with it, every mouth on his body and jade brush opened wide.
In the next instant, all of them screamed in unison.
The cry was so monstrous that space itself seemed to shudder.
And then came the explosion.
Not merely a burst of mana—a true cataclysm.
It seemed as though an entire sea of poisonous green mana had suddenly erupted in front of the Imperial Palace. A colossal wave of ink and destructive energy instantly engulfed the entire slope of the staircase.
The shockwave swept across the square with a roar.
Stone steps melted and exploded apart in massive chunks, while the very air seemed to be torn to pieces by the monstrous pressure. Green mist surged in every direction, burning through walls and paving stones alike.
Even the outer towers of the Imperial Palace became covered in deep cracks within mere moments.
“MAINTAIN THE DEFENSE!” Al-Hakim roared.
The golden grimoire before him flared with such force that some of its pages instantly ignited and crumbled into ash right in the air.
Massive golden shields layered atop one another, protecting the Archmagisters and the Elders standing behind them. But the moment the green wave touched them, thick black stains immediately began spreading across their surfaces.
Meanwhile, Sylvain fully unfurled his ice fan.
His nine tails shot sharply upward, and the entire staircase before the Palace rapidly became covered in layers of ice. Enormous ice walls erupted directly from the blazing marble, trying to halt the torrent of poisonous mana.
Even Guro completely gave up attacking.
All eight of his eyes spun at their limit, continuously creating new elemental barriers. Streams of earth, metal, wind, and lightning overlapped one another, attempting to weaken Mor’zak’s attack by even the slightest amount.
But even so, the Archmagisters were slowly being forced backward.
Some of the Elders and Magisters began screaming under the pressure, unable to withstand the clash of such monstrous mana. Some dropped to their knees, others clutched their heads, and the weakest were already losing consciousness where they stood.
Kael was in an even worse state.
Even unconscious, his body instinctively reacted to the raging power around him. Blood slowly flowed from his eyes and ears, while his fingers twitched convulsively, as though his body were desperately trying to resist the pressure.
But none of them could see what was happening ahead anymore.
Their entire view was completely obscured by the storm of dark-green ink and poisonous mist.
Within that chaos, only the occasional flashes of Al-Hakim’s golden barriers, the silver light of Seraphina’s moon, and Sylvain’s icy bursts could be seen before they were almost immediately swallowed once more by the green abyss.
Only after several seconds did the raging chaos begin to subside.
The dark-green mist slowly drifted apart, revealing the devastated staircase. The air remained so saturated with poison that some of the beastfolk below who had failed to retreat in time continued coughing up blood.
The Archmagisters were breathing heavily as well.
Al-Hakim leaned on his open grimoire with one hand, deep cracks now running across its cover. Sylvain looked pale, and two of his nine tails had nearly dissipated completely. Guro was even swaying slightly—several of the eyes on his face had closed, blood streaming from them.
But in the next moment, all four of them abruptly raised their gazes forward.
And their expressions immediately changed.
The massive gates of the Imperial Palace stood wide open.
Mor’zak was nowhere to be seen.
“How the hell is that monster still alive?!” Al-Hakim said tensely, sharply raising his grimoire. “He was killed three years ago!”
But Sylvain merely narrowed his eyes coldly, carefully studying the ruined staircase and the remnants of ink.
“We were deceived…” he said quietly. “It seems he staged his own death in advance.”
Breathing heavily, he added, “He changed his appearance… infiltrated the ranks of the slaves… and waited all this time for the right moment.”
A cold gleam flashed in Sylvain’s eyes.
“The Beast God’s Horde has been preparing this for a very long time.”
Guro gave a grim grunt in response.
“So…” the old man said heavily. “They’ve been preparing this for more than three years…”
His floating eyes slowly turned toward the open gates of the Imperial Palace. The old man frowned and added, “But even so, they have no chance of succeeding.”
Then Seraphina spoke, shrinking slightly as though from fear: “That doesn’t change the fact that That Person is going to be very angry…”
But at that moment, a deep voice suddenly rolled across the entire Capital, amplified by mana so dense that it was heard even through the roar of fires, explosions, and the cries of those fighting.
“Third and Sixth Legions—seal off the Northern River District! Do not let the beastfolk break through to the inner canals!”
The voice sounded as though the air itself had begun to vibrate.
Even some of the beastfolk below froze involuntarily, lifting their heads toward the sky.
“Ninth Legion—surround the artisans’s quarter! Water Mages, immediately contain the fires in the east!”
The Archmagisters sharply raised their gazes.
The crimson dragon was much closer now.
Its massive body cut through the clouds, while the trail of mana it left behind resembled a bloody fissure across the sky. The man standing upon the dragon’s back was not even attempting to conceal his aura.
It was oppressive, yet at the same time it created a strange sense of order amid the chaos.
“Clear the rooftops of the central district!” General Salazar’s voice thundered again. “The beastfolk are using totems for communication! Destroy every single one!”
And at that moment, even the Archmagisters’ expressions changed slightly.
Because after only a few commands, the chaos in the Capital seemed to begin taking on structure.
Sylvain slowly exhaled.
“As expected…” he said quietly. “The moment Salazar took command, the entire atmosphere changed…”
✦ ✦ ✦
At that moment, deep beneath the Imperial Palace, a heavy rumble echoed.
Mor’zak charged forward, paying no attention to anything around him.
His jade brush slammed into the protective barriers blocking his path again and again with monstrous force. Each new seal erupted with blinding golden light, yet almost immediately Mor’zak’s green inscriptions spread across it like a disease.
Mor’zak himself was looking worse and worse.
His body continued swelling from unstable mana, several of the mouths on his chest had already burst apart, and dark-green ink flowed continuously from the corners of his mouth. Yet the cloudy eyes of the old beastfolk only grew more ferocious.
“Faster…” he rasped, smashing his brush into yet another barrier. “Just a little more…”
In the next moment, a deafening crack rang out ahead.
The final golden seal finally gave way.
The barrier exploded into a torrent of light, and the massive black gates behind it swung open inward.
Mor’zak immediately lunged forward.
But as he burst into the enormous underground chamber, he abruptly skidded to a halt.
A truly monstrous sight unfolded before him.
The vast subterranean hall was filled with dense red mist, slowly drifting between ancient pillars and runic slabs.
And floating in the very center of the hall was a gigantic bony spine.
It stretched for dozens of paces and was suspended in the air by massive black chains that disappeared into the walls, ceiling, and earth itself. Every vertebra emitted a dull crimson glow, while streams of red mana slowly flowed between the skeletal segments.
It seemed as though a fragment of some ancient monster’s body stood before Mor’zak.
Even the surrounding space was slightly distorted by its pressure.
At the sight of it, Mor’zak let out a heavy breath for the first time.
His lips twitched faintly, while the mouths covering his body hissed excitedly. The old beastfolk quickly pulled a golden artifact from beneath his fur—a small cloth bag covered in runes.
The artifact immediately began pulsing in rhythm with the spine.
Mor’zak tightened his grip on the bag, never taking his eyes off the gigantic skeletal fragment.
“I must make it in time…” he said quickly in the beastfolk’s tongue.
But at the very moment Mor’zak opened the golden bag and pointed it toward the giant spine, a calm voice suddenly rolled through the hall.
And to Mor’zak’s horror, it was also speaking in the beastfolk’s language.
“The Beast God is truly a greedy creature…” the unknown man said quietly. “But its hunger will not be fed here.”
And the instant those words were spoken, Mor’zak’s body jerked.
His eyes widened.
Every mouth on his body and jade brush snapped shut simultaneously, as though they had been forcibly silenced.
Mor’zak abruptly raised his head, peering into the dense blood-red mist.
And for the first time in many years, he felt genuine fear.
“Who’s there?!” Mor’zak roared furiously, instantly raising his jade brush.
For several seconds, silence reigned throughout the vast hall.
Then, a human silhouette slowly emerged from the red mist ahead.
A tall figure clad in long dark robes and wearing a golden mask stood calmly at the base of the gigantic spine.
