With the mysterious figure gone, Talaro’s confidence surged back.
He opened his palm, feeling the pulsing weight of Khaos still coursing through his veins. A grin spread across his face as the power of Daurgothoth surged, sheathing his saber in a chilling, dark aura. "Perfect," he sneered, the blade humming with ominous intent.
He didn’t waste a second.
With pinpoint precision, he surged forward, targeting the weakest and most vulnerable—Vayarel, who was still on his knees, barely breathing.
"Don’t you dare!!" Dark Ery roared, stepping in just in ti.
BAMM!!
The collision unleashed a shockwave that spiraled through the enclosed bubble realm, warping the air and rattling the spatial boundaries. Dark Ery grunted as he caught the brunt of the dark elf’s heavy strike, his feet skidding across the fractured surface beneath them.
It was obvious now—Talaro hadn’t just waited idly over the past two years. He had evolved. His every move showed that he’d adapted to the realm’s unstable spatial nature. The restrictions that bound others barely hindered him anymore.
Forced to react in an instant, Dark Ery summoned his Primal Transformation. His body surged with raw, crackling energy, muscles tightening. Behind him, his other half—the Light Ery—moved swiftly, pulling Vayarel and Morgana to safety, shielding them with a veil of Elysian energy.
"Huh?! Still pretending to be strong, are you?" Talaro scoffed with venom.
He cast a burst of freezing dark wind, the air around Dark Ery turning glacial. Frost crawled over his limbs, slowing his reflexes. A brutal saber strike followed, slashing across his shoulder and sending him flying.
Talaro didn’t waste ti on the downed opponent—he turned again, aiming to finish off Vayarel once and for all.
But Light Ery reacted instantly.
He extended both arms, calling forth the full might of his Elysian roots. A thick wall of jade thorns burst around him, entwining in a massive barrier between Talaro and his targets.
The skeletal saber bit into the wall with a screech. Once. Twice. The thorns cracked. They wouldn’t hold long.
Ery’s mind raced for a plan. He turned to the only figure who had yet to act.
"Kronos!" he shouted. "What are you waiting for?! That dark elf is one of the Alliance’s most wanted!"
The words hit their mark, and for a split second, it worked—Talaro’s eyes flicked toward Kronos, his stance faltering. That brief distraction allowed Dark Ery to close the distance again, forcing Talaro to retreat a step, his gaze narrowing with cold calculation.
But he wasn’t the only one calculating.
Kronos stood frozen, eyes darting between the figures before him. He hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet. Everything felt surreal; his thoughts scrambled for answers.
"Where is he? Who was that mysterious person who pulled him here? For what reason?"
Nothing made sense.
What was clear to him: he had been dragged into a feud between Ery and this powerful dark elf. Worse still, within this sealed realm, he couldn’t call upon the power of the cosmos. Without it, he was at great risk.
So he chose silence. He watched. He waited. He calculated. Let them destroy each other, he thought. I will pick up what remains.
Talaro couldn’t quite discern Kronos’s intentions, but he knew one thing—he couldn’t risk allowing another unpredictable factor into this volatile standoff. With a swift motion of both arms, he tore open multiple spatial rifts around him. From these swirling portals, a bone-chilling presence poured out.
One after another, skeletal godly beasts erged—hulking fras wrapped in spectral fla and armor of bone, their eyes glowing with baleful hunger. Six in total, snarling and snapping as they landed heavily within the bubble realm. Counted with the others still frozen outside the spatial bubble, it was clear Talaro had amassed a monstrous force. He had been secretly hunting and reforging these beasts in preparation for a confrontation exactly like this.
Facing this sudden onslaught, Ery’s expression hardened. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.
He raised his hand and opened a direct link to his domain.
Figures stepped out onto the battlefield.
Livi the Baphot, horns curling with infernal grace. Twik and Durak, the dark skin orc, followed.
Talaro let out a low, mocking chuckle. He had witnessed these subordinates before. While formidable, they were not strong enough to join this level of battle.
"Is this it?" Talaro sneered, "You’re desperate. Good. I’ll make you watch as I crush each of them—one by one!"
But Ery didn’t flinch.
Instead, he pulled sothing else—a black banner, old and ominous.
The Varkhall Banner.
The artifact he had seized from the Beastmaster during the siege of Northstar. It pulsed with an aura of dominion, tailored to enslave powerful beasts.
From the gate of his domain, two colossal shadows erged.
First, the winged serpent. It let out a shriek that cracked the very air. Then ca a monstrous lizard. Lightning danced across its back as it snarled at Talaro’s undead horde.
Ery narrowed his eyes. Just like Talaro, he had spent these past two years preparing in secret—learning the Beastmaster’s forbidden techniques of beast enslavent, capturing the strongest of the two godly beast species, and nurturing them.
With a sharp command from Ery, Durak leapt into motion and vaulted onto the back of the lizard-like beast. Livi followed closely behind, her figure graceful yet deadly as she landed atop the flying serpent.
The Varkhall Banner, still fluttering with eerie energy above, pulsed with dark crimson light. Its magic coursed through the godly beasts like wildfire—bolstering their strength, sharpening their instincts, and unleashing a terrifying aura far more potent than Talaro’s skeletal abominations.
Compared to the bone-stitched creatures summoned by Talaro, Ery’s beasts were alive, furious, and enhanced with intelligent riders. The coordination between beast and rider was seamless. Durak roared atop his mount, already charging toward the nearest skeletal monstrosity with axe in hand, while Livi’s serpent slithered through the air, unleashing sonic shrieks that rattled the battlefield.
anwhile, Twik moved to Ery’s side, extended his hands toward the shimring barrier of nature surrounding them. The roots of the Elysian tree responded instantly, pulsing with radiant life as divine green energy surged through the wall. The defense thickened, branches twisting and weaving tighter, forming a nearly impenetrable shield.
But Ery had no ti to rest. His focus narrowed to the limp forms of Morgana and Vayarel behind him. Every second counted. They were the key to turning this battle.
It was then that Kronos made his move.
In an instant, ti itself warped.
The air trembled as Kronos invoked a powerful temporal incantation. His form blurred, bending the space between seconds, and in a blink he reappeared—right behind Durak.
A burst of silver light exploded from his scythe as he drove it into the orc’s back. The strike was brutal, precise, and lethal.
"AARGGHH!!"
The orc warrior let out a strangled roar as he was thrown from his mount. Blood splattered from his mouth, and the light in his eyes began to flicker. He was still breathing, but barely.
Kronos didn’t speak. He simply raised his blade, blood trailing from its tip, and turned to face Talaro. His ssage was clear.
With that single act, Kronos had chosen a side.
x x
User Comments
0 comments from readers