This was Ery's second encounter with the barbarian beastmaster and her monstrous godly beasts. Last ti, he had barely survived. But this ti, he was prepared. Every piece was in place: the golden golems, the fortified walls, the scattered defenders, and his two allies.
"I WILL TEAR YOU TO PIECES!!" roared the female barbarian, as she pounded furiously against the restored barrier. Her voice cracked like thunder across the battlefield.
But the tide had shifted.
With the Varkhall Banner gripped tightly in one hand, Ery had already begun his boldest move yet—an attempt to wrest control of her beasts right under her nose.
Now that the beasts were restrained by the golden golems, the other defenders could redirect their fury toward the beastmaster herself. Among them, three cosmic-ranked experts unleashed devastating spells—sizzling bolts of lightning, sky-piercing fire lances, and precision arrows enchanted with spatial rift points—all aid directly at her.
The blightoad, sensing its master in danger, reared back and swung its massive tongue and bulk to shield her. It absorbed a barrage of attacks, its armor-like skin glowing red under the onslaught.
This gave Ery a critical window.
He tightened his grip on the banner, his soul blazed with exertion as he focused all his will on the two captured godly beasts before him: the Bloodwing Fiend above, its wings torn but thrashing; and the slithering Centipede, coiled like a siege ram, hissing as it fought against the grip of the golden golems. Both thrashed wildly, but the runes on their bodies—emblazoned by the Varkhall Banner—glowed faintly.
He was close.
"I command you… SUBMIT!"
His voice echoed unnaturally, layered with soul power. It wasn't just a command—it was an invasion. Ery poured his will directly into the beasts' minds.
Both roared in violent resistance.
Ery's mastery in the Path of Enslavent was far from enough. He had powerfull soul strength and Mo Yan's legacy—yes—but even that wasn't enough to ta two level seven godly beasts. Still, the Varkhall Banner gave him an edge. The artifact wasn't just enhancing his control—it was directly tied to the markings etched into the creatures' flesh. The banner was the leash. He only needed to tighten it.
Ery's breathing grew ragged. His soul was burning from the effort. He quickly pulled out a handful of shimring pills—his finest concoctions, crafted solely for monts like this. Soul recovery, essence boosters, clarity focusers—and shoved them into his mouth.
But even with his reserves surging, even with the Varkhall Banner bolstering his grip, it was still too much. The two godly beasts—creatures of pure destruction—thrashed against the bindings of soul and will. Ery gritted his teeth. The most he could manage now was to weaken them—strip away their enchanted buffs and keep them restrained.
Full control? True enslavent?
Still out of reach.
"Damn it… I can't fail…"
All around him, the battlefield scread. The centipede's tail lashed, hurling bodies like ragdolls. The Bloodwing shrieked and cracked the air with its wings, its form flickering in and out of visibility.
Then disaster struck.
The blightoad lashed out, crushing one of the cosmic defenders with a wet, sickening sound. Blood splattered across the southern wall. The remaining two cosmic defenders staggered back in horror, forced to retreat behind the protection of the inner shield. The pressure on the southern wall intensified, cracks forming as enemy forces surged forward.
From behind, Veyarel spat blood and staggered, holding the crystal console.
"Hurry… I can't hold the barrier much longer!"
Ery clenched his jaw.
Ti. If only he had more ti, he could finish the process. His old self might have gambled everything and forced a direct domination, regardless of the cost. His dark self might... but not him. He weighs risk against survival.
So he made a swift, calculated decision.
His prior ntal probes had revealed a critical truth: the beasts hated their master. There was no loyalty in them—only rage. They loathed the beastmaster. She had dominated them through pain, shackles, and the very artifact Ery now held. They hated her.
Then maybe… maybe he didn't need to control them.
Just break the seal.
Shifting strategy, Ery redirected all his focus toward dismantling the runes. With the help of VIA's rapid formation analysis, he began stripping them apart. One by one, the glowing markings on the beasts flickered and faded.
Cracks appeared along the beasts' markings. Faint sparks of soul fire burst from their skin as the runes began to shatter.
Then—
A scream of pure rage.
The barbarian beastmaster, watching from outside the barrier, realized what was happening. Her expression twisted into fury.
"SLAUGHTER THEM! ALL OF THEM!!"
Dozens of enemy reinforcents surged forward. Barbarian cosmic warriors flooded toward the southern gate. The defenders, already stretched thin, barely held the line.
Spells exploded. Shields cracked. Chaos descended.
But Ery didn't stop.
"Just a little more…" he whispered, sweat dripping from his brow. His hands trembled as he continued dissolving the last layer of bindings.
But the barrier—Veyarel's barrier—was almost gone. It flickered erratically, unstable under the strain.
Then Ery turned and shouted, "Ivaris! Increase the flas! Burn the seals clean!"
The chubby alchemist stood nearby, clutching his staff, already pale from exertion. His Undying Fla sputtered weakly.
"I… I'm sorry, brother…" Ivaris groaned, falling to one knee. Blood spilled from his lips.
Ery's heart sank. He was ready to summon Livi, the Baphot—but before he could, a new figure landed beside him in a burst of heat and smoke.
Gelael. The Ember Sage, his eyes blazed like twin suns, his hand burned black cosmic fire. Without a word, he hurled a massive sphere of fla directly onto the struggling beasts.
The dark fla sank into their runes like acid, devouring the markings from within. One final, pained roar echoed across the field—
—and the seals shattered.
A pulse of raw energy erupted from both beasts. The golden golems staggered back as Ery lifted the Varkhall Banner, whispering not a command, but a choice.
"You are free now… Decide your fate."
For a mont, silence reigned.
The Bloodwing Fiend glanced at Ery, its eyes glinting with uncertain intelligence. Then, with a screech, it spread its wings and vanished into the clouds above, retreating from the battle entirely.
But the centipede stayed.
Its many legs twitched. Its head turned toward the barbarian horde scaling the southern walls.
Then it roared—and lunged, smashing into the enemy like a living battering ram. Barbarians scread. Blood sprayed across the stones. The southern wall was filled with death and destruction—but now, it was their beast doing the killing.
The female barbarian stood upon her blightoad, her face twisted in disbelief. She saw Ery. Saw the carnage. Saw her beasts no longer hers.
"DAMN YOU!! DAMN YOU!!"
She scread in blind fury, Her roar shook the heavens.
Ery returned her hatred with a smirk.
"You're not planning to run away again… are you?"
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