The sudden shift in Veyarel's expression startled Ery. It was subtle but unmistakable—his already dark eyes dulled further, as if a shadow passed through his soul.
Ery didn't need to guess; the bone flute the childlike barbarian held was no ordinary instrunt. It was an artifact laced with mind-control enchantnts, most likely enhancing the parasitic symbiote that infected the grand magus.
"Now... kill him," the barbarian growled, his tone dripping with bloodlust.
Still bound by the Warden's Soul Hex Chains, Ery had no strength to fight. His only weapon now was his tongue and the hope that his words might buy him precious seconds.
"Wait—!" Ery shouted, "I've been working on this gate! I've almost broken it… Give just a little more ti, and I'll open it."
The barbarian gave him a look that mixed amusent with disgust. Clearly, he wasn't moved. But Veyarel flinched. The man's brow furrowed, and his lips trembled—his will struggling against the parasite's grip.
"How long do you need?" Veyarel asked through gritted teeth.
Ery's mind raced. He had no real way of breaking all five seals alone—but he had to bluff. "Five minutes," he said, his voice sharp and urgent. "Five minutes. If I can't open the gate by then, kill ."
The barbarian scoffed, his claws twitching with impatience. But there was an obvious conflict in Veyarel's soul. The bone flute might twist his mind, but it couldn't overwrite everything—not yet.
The barbarian roared and suddenly lunged at Ery.
Claws shimred with cosmic energy as they raked through the air. Ery flinched, certain his end had co—but instead of tearing him apart, the claws struck the chains that bound him.
"Five minutes, or you die," the barbarian growled, his face inches from Ery's.
Ery didn't waste a second. He turned to the sealed gate and pretended to continue his work, weaving gestures in the air, mimicking a complex unlocking sequence. In reality, he sent a ntal whisper through the void.
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