Omina moved to intercept, her aura flaring as she t his charge head-on. Their collision sent shockwaves through the room, the force cracking the walls and sending shards of stone tumbling to the floor. Ty’s flas burned fiercely, but they sputtered and dimd as Omina’s ice and wind battered them down.
With a final burst of energy, Ty managed to land a solid hit, his fist connecting with Omina’s shoulder in an explosion of black fire. She staggered slightly, her aura flickering—but it wasn’t enough. Her hand shot out, gripping his arm in an iron hold. Frost spread from her touch, creeping along his skin and extinguishing his flas entirely.
Ty gasped, his knees buckling as he felt the cold seep into his bones. He tried to pull away, but his strength was gone, his body trembling as the frost consud him.
Omina released him, letting him fall to the ground. She stepped back, her aura pulsing with power as she looked down at him. "You fought well," she said, her tone almost respectful. "But this battle was over the mont it began."
Ty struggled to rise, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth as he shivered violently. His flas flickered weakly, barely a spark now. He wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion, the frost, or sothing deeper holding him down, but his body refused to cooperate.
For the first ti in a long while, Ty felt the sting of helplessness.
-
anwhile
-
The Black Bulls moved with practiced efficiency, their presence a mixture of chaos and precision as they closed in on their target. Osalf stood at the forefront, his commanding presence felt even amid the tension. His sharp eyes scanned the crumbling walls, his voice firm as he barked orders.
"Tressa," Osalf called, gesturing toward the jagged corridor ahead, "get us an exit portal prepped. Ronnick, have your spiders scout the next chamber. We need to confirm the constants are still here before we make a move."
Tressa nodded, her hand glowing faintly as a pool of black liquid began forming at her feet. "On it," she said, her tone brisk. The liquid shimred, spreading outward in a perfect circle as it coalesced into an inky portal.
Ronnick crouched near the ground, his chanical spiders skittering out in a swarm. Their tallic legs clicked against the stone as they vanished into the darkness ahead. "They’ll have eyes on the chamber in ten seconds," Ronnick reported, his goggles glowing faintly as he monitored their feed.
Behind them, the unnad burly fighter with the scar across his nose hefted a massive hamr onto his shoulder. His gruff voice broke the silence. "If the King’s in there, I’ll make him regret showing up." He exchanged a glance with the lanky woman beside him, who smirked and cracked her knuckles.
"You’d better," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I’m not carrying your sorry ass out again."
Osalf ignored the banter, his focus unshaken. "Heriean, Xuán Wěi," he called, his voice cutting through the air. "Support Cade. He’s working on the bomb, and I don’t want him distracted."
Heriean limped forward, his bloodied hands trembling slightly as crimson tendrils ford at his fingertips. They twisted and solidified into jagged, weapon-like shapes, their edges gleaming in the dim light. Xuán Wěi moved alongside him, his spectral wraiths swirling around him like shadows given form. They hovered near Cade, forming a protective barrier as he knelt by the bomb.
"Tir’s almost set," Cade muttered, sweat dripping from his brow as he worked. "This thing is going to make a hell of a bang."
"Good," Osalf said. "We’ll need the noise to draw the King out."
Read the latest on .Côm
As Cade finalized the bomb’s sequence, a chilling stillness fell over the chamber. The faint hum of the device and the clicking of Ronnick’s spiders were the only sounds. Then, without warning, the King’s voice echoed through the air.
"I thought you all would be nearby."
Every Black Bull froze. The King materialized in the center of the room, his golden aura casting long shadows against the walls. He stood with an air of calm authority, his expression almost amused as his gaze swept across the group.
"I wanted to ask a question," he said, his voice unnervingly casual. "Have you seen a lady who can revive the dead?"
For a mont, no one moved. Then, the scarred man reacted first. With a roar, he hurled his hamr toward the King with all his might, the weapon spinning through the air like a teor.
The King’s hand shot out, catching the hamr mid-flight with an effortless grace. He examined it briefly, his expression indifferent. "Hm. A crude tool," he said, before flicking it aside. The hamr slamd into the wall with enough force to crack the stone.
The lanky woman followed up imdiately, darting forward with a flurry of kicks aid at the King’s torso. He didn’t bother dodging; his golden aura flared, and a wave of energy blasted her backward. She hit the ground hard, sliding to a stop as she groaned in pain.
"I guess not," the King said, his tone unchanging. He turned his attention to Cade, who was frozen in place, his hands hovering over the bomb. "And what’s this?" the King asked, stepping closer. "Sothing to amuse ?"
Osalf stepped forward, his voice sharp. "Cade, finish the bomb. Everyone else, keep him busy."
Tressa raised her hand, a tendril of black liquid snaking toward the King’s feet, aiming to trap him. But the King raised a hand, and the tendril evaporated into golden sparks before it could reach him. "Intriguing," the King murmured, his gaze flicking to Tressa. "Your power is unique. Sha it’s wasted here."
Heriean lunged from the side, his blood-ford blades slicing through the air with precision. The King moved with inhuman speed, dodging each strike effortlessly. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Heriean sprawling to the ground, blood pooling around him as his weapons dissolved.
"Bomb’s ard!" Cade shouted, scrambling back as the device began its countdown. The glowing tir lit up the room, the seconds ticking away.
The King’s eyes narrowed slightly, his calm deanor showing the faintest hint of annoyance. "So impatient," he said, his aura flaring as he turned toward Cade.
Xuán Wěi’s wraiths sward forward, their ghostly forms screeching as they dove at the King. For a mont, they overwheld him, spectral claws tearing at his golden aura. But the King barely reacted, his eyes narrowing before his light erupted outward in a devastating wave. The wraiths disintegrated instantly, scattering like smoke into the air.
Cade flinched at the force of the blast but kept his focus on the bomb, his hands trembling as he made the final adjustnts. "Almost there," he muttered. His heart pounded as the tir clicked into place. Thirty seconds. "It’s ard!" he shouted, scrambling back from the device.
Osalf stepped in front of Cade, his gaze locked on the King. "Everyone, regroup. Tressa, get a portal ready. Ronnick, spiders to the periter. Now!" His voice carried authority, and the team moved without hesitation.
Tressa’s hand glowed faintly as her black liquid began pooling at her feet, rippling as it stretched outward in a perfect circle. "Just need a few seconds," she said through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down her brow.
Ronnick’s chanical spiders fanned out, skittering across the chamber to scout for any weaknesses or ambush points. "I’ve got eyes on all angles," he called out, though his voice betrayed his nervousness.
The King’s attention shifted lazily to the bomb. His golden aura flared slightly, the pressure in the air growing heavier. "What a curious little device," he said, taking a deliberate step forward. "Did you truly think this would work?"
The chamber above them began to hum. A sharp tallic sound filled the space as dozens of small drones descended from hidden compartnts in the walls and ceiling. Each carried caras that glinted as they zood in on the scene below. The light from the drones bathed the room in a faint glow, and suddenly, a voice bood from their speakers—smooth and charismatic.
"Ladies and gentlen, welco to the King’s finest production," said Rusuf, his tone exuding showmanship. "Tonight, we bring you the Black Bulls’ last stand. Watch as they challenge our great sovereign… and fail spectacularly."
Cade froze. His stomach sank as he realized the entire world was watching. Every movent, every breath was now part of the King’s twisted spectacle.
The scarred Black Bull, hamr in hand, snarled and charged forward. "Let’s see you talk when this smashes your face in!" His weapon swung in a wide arc, crackling with stored energy.
The King raised a single hand, catching the hamr mid-swing. The scarred man froze, his eyes widening as the King’s grip tightened. With an almost casual motion, the King yanked the hamr free and hurled it aside, sending it skidding across the chamber floor. "Crude," he remarked, his tone flat.
The lanky woman darted forward next, her kicks blurring in quick succession as she aid for the King’s ribs. He sidestepped the first strike, his movents impossibly fluid. Her third kick connected with his golden aura, but instead of staggering him, it sent a shockwave through her leg. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her knee as the King stared down at her.
User Comments
0 comments from readers