Shortly after, Leonel was unconscious but alive, his body motionless on the marble floor that had once been a living room.
"The seal on young Leonel’s chest will disappear sooner than the previous ones," Ravenspire explained to Kassian while they observed the unconscious body, "so young Kassian shouldn’t worry about it being discovered easily."
There was sothing almost professional in his tone, as if he were explaining the side effects of an improved dicine rather than describing the results of abyssal corruption.
"Perfect," Kassian nodded, satisfied with the result.
"Now, before going to that school..." said Ravenspire with an expression that had beco more serious. "We’re going to support your father a bit. Obtaining the bridge is imperative for the next step toward the castle."
"Fine," Kassian grimaced. "But I want to stay on a large beast and not get close to the action. You know I can’t lose control of the ’threads of fate’ right in the middle of battle. Don’t move much during the flight."
Ravenspire raised an eyebrow, wanting to ask if they had already entered battle at the front with Kharzan.
But Kassian’s hands moved much faster than normal in those strange patterns. It was enough of an answer.
"Ah," Ravenspire murmured with understanding. "Of course."
♢♢♢♢
Kharzan pressed with implacable force.
Each blow from his multiple extremities forced Selphira a step back, each combination of corrupt attacks obliged her to spend energy on defenses that barely contained the power channeled by the Grand Crystal.
"Surrender once and for all, old woman!" Kharzan roared. "Your luck has run out!"
Selphira dodged a claw that would have pierced her chest, but another found her left thigh. Hot blood soaked her clothes while she retreated, creating ice walls that Kharzan destroyed like paper.
The wounds were accumulating faster than her healing could manage while fighting, each injury representing another step toward inevitable defeat.
Around her, the situation also deteriorated rapidly.
Julius fought desperately against three abyssal opponents whose speed had increased. His earth control, previously dominant, now barely managed to maintain basic defenses while corrupt claws sought spaces between his barricades.
"I can’t hold them!" Julius shouted, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead where a claw had passed too close.
The other Yano commanders faced similar problems. Beasts that minutes before had been manageable now attacked with supernatural frenzy, their eyes glowing with that purple light that gave them new power.
Selphira made the decision in a fraction of a second.
She jumped back and channeled a massive amount of her remaining energy, feeling how reserves she had carefully conserved emptied like water through a broken dam. The air around her crystallized while power accumulated, creating fractal patterns.
Selphira buried her new spear in the rocky ground up to the middle of the hilt.
Her hands freed themselves, both palms directing toward Kharzan while the lesser Genbu’s power channeled through her. The air thickened, ice crystals forming spontaneously in environntal humidity.
"Absolute Domain, Mountain Peak!"
The cold that followed wasn’t simply low temperature. It was the complete absence of heat, the type of cold that existed on the highest peaks where only a real dragon could survive. It spread from Selphira like an expansive wave, converting the ground into a slippery surface of black ice while the air itself began to crystallize.
The technique was beautiful and terrible, the culmination of centuries of ice mastery focused into a single demonstration of absolute environntal control.
Kharzan’s abyssal allies who had been pressing Julius froze instantly. Their movents beca slow, clumsy, until so finally stopped completely, converted into ice statues with expressions of permanent shock on their faces.
So allies had ti to take advantage to finish their battles, but soon found themselves affected too.
Julius himself felt the cold biting his extremities, but managed to create earth barriers for most allies that protected them from the worst of the effect. Yano commanders took shelter inside the improvised structures, breathing vapor while the world transford into an arctic wasteland.
The entire battlefield had beco black ice.
Except for Kharzan.
The crystal’s voices whispered precise instructions while purple energy and false phoenix fire concentrated not around his body, but within it. Instead of generating external flas that would compete directly against Selphira’s superior ice, the energy worked internally.
His body temperature elevated to levels that would have killed any normal being. Muscles heated from within, lting ice that tried to form in his joints. The Simurgh’s extre regeneration activated constantly, repairing excessive heat damage as fast as it occurred.
Kharzan took damage. His skin cracked from extre internal heat, vapor emanated from his wounds, but he kept moving.
More than that, accelerated regeneration acted like a natural steroid for his strength which was already extrely high in principle. His muscles tore and repaired dozens of tis per second, each cycle of destruction and regeneration leaving them stronger, denser.
Selphira concentrated on maintaining the temperature drop, trying not to affect her allies too much as they struggled to stay warm behind their improvised shelters. But she didn’t understand why Kharzan kept advancing toward her.
The ice under his feet should have paralyzed him. The temperature should have frozen the blood in his veins. But step by step, Kharzan crossed the frozen battlefield, leaving a trail of vapor where internal heat partially lted the ice.
Ten ters. Eight. Five.
Selphira realized too late what was happening. She stopped concentrating on lowering temperature and reached her hand toward her buried spear, but Kharzan was already upon her.
His claws, overheated by internal energy, pierced through her defense and found flesh.
The pain was imdiate and terrible. Selphira felt how the claws perforated her body, the searing heat of Kharzan’s extremities creating vapor on contact with her blood.
For the first ti in decades, Selphira Ashenway had been gravely wounded.
♢♢♢♢
A few hours earlier...
Victor maintained a stable front from his privileged aerial position.
The enemies had apparently accepted that they couldn’t break Yano’s defenses through the bridge bottleneck or the bowl with direct attacks.
Instead, they had resigned themselves to an attrition battle, constantly sacrificing numbers to try to exhaust Yano’s resources and resistance.
But Victor had advantages they hadn’t anticipated.
Arturo’s reinforcents and provisions kept arriving in constant waves. Soldiers from the central reserve, units that had been withdrawn from less critical positions, veterans who had run from the kingdom’s depths. His forces had grown an extra of almost 5,000 effectives.
The logistical support was impressive in its scope and efficiency, demonstrating the kind of administrative competence that won wars as surely as tactical brilliance.
"Commander Victor!" A ssenger approached flying on his silver hawk, with a smile that promised good news. "Reports from the front against Kharzan!"
Victor felt genuine relief hearing the soldier’s words.
Julius, Sirius, and Selphira had managed to completely stop Kharzan’s march advance a while ago. The golden bombs had been even more devastating on solid ground than on the bridge, infecting and incapacitating more than 50% of enemy forces.
"The numbers are strongly negative for the enemy, sir," the ssenger continued. "If our leaders manage to win the main battle against Kharzan... At this rate, the war could end in our favor soon."
Victor nodded, allowing himself a mont of satisfaction. Everything had gone better than expected. Ren’s bombs had proved to be the decisive factor that neither side had completely anticipated.
But then his eagle-enhanced eyes detected sothing strange on the horizon.
In the distance, an aerial formation that had been dispersed for hours seed to be reorganizing. Dozens of dark points moved in coordinated patterns, regrouping into sothing that resembled an attack formation.
"Is Maximilian attempting a desperate strategy?" Victor murmured, studying the distant movents.
It made no tactical sense. The enemy commander had proven to be calculating and careful during the entire battle. Launching a desperate aerial attack against Yano’s superior air defenses would be...
But Victor decided to prepare troops for a counterattack if necessary.
A few minutes later, Victor observed that the formation was definitely advancing toward his position.
"Are they insane?" he asked aloud.
The enemy was committing exactly the sa mistake he had made hours before: exposing themselves too much, moving away from their support base, trusting in... "individual superiority?" against superior numbers.
The irony wasn’t lost on him... seeing his own tactical error reflected in enemy decision-making provided both satisfaction and concern about what desperation might drive them to attempt.
Victor gave the signal imdiately.
"Aerial squadrons, reception formation!" he shouted, his voice amplified by his beasts’ mana to reach all commanders. "Position yourselves within ground support range!"
It was ti to apply what he had learned during his own tactical error. His aerial forces would move within range of fire and wind soldiers on ground, creating a support network that would make any enemy attack suicidal.
"Prepare concentrated fire!" he ordered ground commanders. "When they arrive, we give them everything we have!"
But then Victor felt sothing that made him stop mid-order.
A massive power was approaching. It wasn’t Maximilian’s familiar mana signature, whose energy he had learned to recognize during hours of intermittent observation.
This was sothing completely different.
The squadron approaching had a new leader. Through his eagle-enhanced eyes, Victor could distinguish the figure leading the formation: a man in armor that glowed with purple energy, mounted on a Poison Wyvern that radiated power in a way that made the air itself distort.
"Venmont," Victor murmured, recognizing the leader of one of Yino’s three most influential families.
But sothing didn’t add up. Victor had interacted with mbers of the great families before, enough tis to calibrate their relative power.
The power he felt emanating from Venmont felt... too high.
Dangerously high.
The enhancent was beyond anything he had previously encountered, suggesting modifications or empowernts that transcended normal tar developnt.
"What the hell...?" Victor frowned, recalibrating his own defenses while trying to evaluate exactly what he was facing.
The energy he detected wasn’t simply that of a high-rank Gold tar. It was sothing that transcended normal classifications.
"Commander!" one of his lieutenants approached with worried expression. "Orders? Do we maintain reception formation?"
Victor hesitated for the first ti in hours. Would they be capable of defeating that?
"Maintain positions," he finally decided.
On the horizon, the enemy formation approached implacably, and with each passing second, Venmont’s anomalous power beca more evident.
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