Beily shifted his grip, moving Valerius and Eryndor into his lower arms. The two boys were battered, but still conscious.
"It's times like these," Beily muttered, "I wish I could fortify people."
He clenched his jaw, scanning the battlefield ahead. The air still trembled from the clash of titans nearby.
Where the hell is Omfry? he thought. Can I fight that Lycan and protect these kids at the same time? He's using Bravo too. This is going to be a problem…
---
Far away, at the edge of the shattered battlefield, Omfry still stood like a sentinel, shielding Jeriana from the screaming winds. The ground groaned beneath him.
Then, without a word, Omfry raised his right leg—and slammed it into the ground.
The ground obeyed.
A massive slab of terrain—about five meters across—tilted upward like a seesaw kicked from one end. The far edge lifted into the air, rising vertically with a deep rumble. Omfry extended his long arm, catching it before it could fall. His hand pressed against its side, stabilizing it.
He touched the base and fortified it.
The chunk of land shivered—but held. It didn't crumble. It didn't even crack. The wind slammed against it like a battering ram—but it stood, untouched.
Jeriana stared in disbelief.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Omfry glanced at her, expression unreadable.
"I think Dreados and that Lycan have some history. Deep history."
He looked toward the far-off crater where the air still exploded like silent thunder.
"Let's go. The others need us."
Jeriana hesitated. "Aren't you going to help him?"
Omfry grinned.
"Let him settle his own scores. I don't think he's planning on dying."
She tried to form a barrier beside the slab of earth Omfry was holding up. A glowing arcane shield formed—and shattered instantly under the wind.
Jeriana flinched. "How is that thing not crumbling? Not even my shield can hold under this pressure!"
Omfry flexed his fingers along the stone.
"It's Fortis Bravo. It lets you fortify your body. Advanced users," he added, "can fortify objects. The best of us can even fortify living things. That's how I saved all of you when Dreados blew the city apart."
Jeriana blinked. "I still don't understand this energy you people use… I can't even feel it."
"That's because it's on a different wavelength," Omfry said, shrugging. "Just like how mana and Vitalis don't flow the same. Bravo is different."
Then, he crouched slightly—still holding the massive slab above them.
"Get on."
"What?"
"I'm not dragging you the whole way. Get on. The others are in trouble."
Jeriana climbed onto his back, gripping his shoulders. Omfry released the slab—and it dropped.
BAM.
Right onto his head.
He didn't flinch.
Supporting Jeriana with one hand, he smirked—and shamelessly squeezed her rear with the other.
Smack!
She slapped the back of his head. "Omfry!"
He just laughed. "Stop messing around! Now's not the time for that!"
Jeriana wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing.
A few seconds passed.
"…Why aren't you moving yet?" she asked.
Omfry tilted his head. "I'm just… thinking about how soft those cheeks were."
Jeriana rolled her eyes.
But then, something changed. She inhaled sharply, her body tensing.
"…What's going on?"
From where Omfry's hands touched her legs, a warm sensation pulsed through her—strange, yet soothing. Protective. She could feel her body strengthening.
Omfry smiled. "You feel that? I'm fortifying you."
Jeriana gasped. "It… kind of feels nice."
"Of course it does," he chuckled. "I'm doing it. But just so you know—if I mess it up…"
He glanced back at her.
"…you explode."
"What?!"
BOOM.
They bolted off the ground, tearing through the air like a missile.
Jeriana screamed, clinging tightly to his neck. Her long hair whipped behind them in fiery streams. Omfry's teeth flashed as he grinned, his canines glinting in the light.
"Hold on tight, sweetheart ."
Then he leapt again.
And again.
Each step struck the air like it was solid ground. With every push, he vaulted higher, faster, slicing through the ruin's chaos like a red arrow.
Their shadows passed high above the battlefield—over beasts, over fire, over the epic clash where Dreados and Katos fought.
From the sky, they watched.
And the war below raged on.
---
Far across the battlefield, where smoke painted the sky and chaos reigned, Beily's team found themselves face to face with a new nightmare—a Lycan.
There was no time to mourn Marie. The ground was still stained with her blood.
Beily lowered Valerius and Eryndor slightly in his arms and stepped forward.
"You're outnumbered," he warned.
The Lycan tilted his head and smirked.
"Really?"
Boom.
The Lycan shot forward in a blur, leaping with a flying kick that tore through the air.
Beily's disk formed in a blink—a glowing green shield snapping into place just before impact.
CRACK!
The Lycan's foot struck the disk like a meteor, the shockwave rippling outward. The earth cratered beneath them, and the rest of Beily's team was hurled away by the blast.
Some landed on their feet, others hit the ground hard.
Time slowed for Beily.
Left side clear. Right side—danger.
He turned his eyes—another Lycan was already mid-kick, launching from the right at sonic speed.
Another green disk materialized, blocking just in time.
BOOM.
A second shockwave. The crater widened.
The team covered their faces, shielding from the debris. Some summoned barriers to survive the blast.
Beily growled. "You can never break my disks."
From the right-side disk, a second one launched—this time horizontally.
The Lycan leapt back to dodge, but too late.
The disk curved mid-air like a hunting hawk and chased him.
"Persistent little things," the Lycan hissed, sprinting. "But he can't keep this up forever. Seeds burn energy fast."
He tried to run, leaping over boulders, using others as shields—but the disk followed, never slowing.
Beily waved his lower left hand. Another disk surged forward toward the second Lycan.
Both were now being hunted.
Valerius stared, stunned. "I can't even see them…"
Beily's voice was calm, deadly. "You can't escape my disks."
He flicked his lower right hand.
The leading disk accelerated.
The Lycan twisted mid-air—but the disk caught his forearm and sliced it clean off.
The Lycan roared in pain and slammed into the ground, skidding, bouncing—leaving a trail of craters.
He gasped on his back, dazed.
Too late.
The disk curved back like a guillotine and cleaved his head in half before he could scream.
Beily didn't flinch.
Now, the two disks turned sharply and locked onto the second Lycan.
"I warned you," Beily muttered.
---
Nearby, Lisa fought desperately to hold off a swarm of beasts.
Stone arrows exploded from her palms like spears, piercing their skulls.
Inside a glowing barrier behind her, Daiel crouched low.
"You better not die!" he shouted. "My life's in your hands!"
Lisa didn't even look back. "Then shut up and let me concentrate!"
To her side, Anuel was locked in a brutal battle—still cradling Ziraiah.
A massive man burst from the crowd, shirtless and scarred, his body wide and heavy with raw muscle. A Dragoon—a martial mage.
He bellowed and launched forward with both arms outstretched.
Anuel shifted her weight and dodged to the side just in time.
BOOM!
The man slammed into a stone wall—blasting hundres of meters deep and 50 metres wide and 300 metres long crater.
Rubble exploded outward like shrapnel.
He stood up, brushing off debris.
"I sense no mana from you," he said, folding his fists. "That means you're Bravo wielder."
He stepped forward, slow and certain. "Well then… I'll show you what a real warrior looks like."
Anuel's sentinel pulsed in warning.
Danger.
She bolted sideways.
From his palm—BOOOOOOM!
A beam of pure light fired from his hand like a divine cannon, vaporizing everything in its path. Its path left a long crater ten meters wide burned into the ground.
Ziraiah's eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God…"
The man marched forward, ten-foot-five and radiating power.
"I will be taking the girl. You Bravo users think yourselves superior, but you're just brawlers."
He dropped into a wide martial stance.
"But we—the martial mages of the Twilight Clan—possess both the strength of warriors and the precision of magic."
He shot forward again.
What?! Anuel thought. A mage this fast?!
His fists glowed with radiant energy.
He struck.
Waves of light burst from his knuckles, tearing stone and metal apart like paper. Each punch sent shockwaves ahead of him.
Anuel ducked, jumped, rolled—still holding Ziraiah tight.
But it wasn't enough.
One blast clipped her shoulder.
She grunted and dropped to one knee.
"Do you really think you can fight me… holding that girl?" the man asked as he circled.
He kept talking, his voice calm and cruel.
"I hail from the Twilight Clan. We specialize in light magic woven into martial arts. Did you think all mages wore robes and whispered spells?"
He raised both hands.
"Saphone Number Three: Light Severance."
Twin blades of condensed light flared into being—long, curved, glowing like captured suns.
He lunged.
The swords moved like whips.
Anuel twisted left—too slow.
The blade slashed her ribs. Blood spilled.
She gasped, pain blooming.
She dropped Ziraiah.
Ziraiah screamed as she hit the ground, rolling.
Anuel crawled forward, one arm useless.
The Dragoon walked slowly toward her, blades glowing brighter.
"The blades of the Twilight Clan," he said coldly, "can cut through anything."
He raised them high.
Then—
"Is that so?" came a calm, cold voice.
A vertical slash of Bravo tore through the air.
The Dragoon barely raised his swords—blocked with both hands.
He was launched backward.
He skidded, sparks flying as he tried to hold the line—walls shattered behind him as he ricocheted through three stone barriers.
He finally slammed into the far end, cratering it.
And then—
SHRING!
The slash cut straight through.
Cleanly.
Him—and the wall.
His body slid vertically—right down the center. A faint line split from skull to waist… then parted. One half toppled to the left, the other to the right, collapsing with a sickening wet thud.
His glowing blades blinked out.
High above, Omfry floated in the air.
Jeriana clung to his back.
Omfry lowered his extended index finger.
"Looks like your blades couldn't even block a slash of my finger," he said coldly. "Your clan is all talk."
The Dragoon's lifeless body hit the ground with a thud.
Silence.
Then wind.
And Omfry began to descend—death in his shadow.
---
High above, suspended in the war-torn sky, Jeriana gazed down at the chaos below—smoke, blood, ruin. Her eyes narrowed.
"Leave this to me."
She muttered a quick incantation and cast Floatation on herself. Her body steadied in the air, drifting with eerie grace. She lifted a hand, palm glowing.
"Brekdena Lubrikel."
From a portal beside her, a massive flame spirit emerged—a lion wreathed in fire, its mane licking the air like molten blades. It landed on the ground with an earth-shaking thud, steam hissing around its paws.
Jeriana snapped her fingers.
Floating cards shimmered into existence—each one bearing the image of a comrade. The cards hovered before the lion's glowing eyes.
"You see these people?" she said, voice steel. "Don't harm them. Kill everything else."
The lion growled deeply. Heat rippled from its body like a living furnace.
On the ground, Anuel looked up—eyes wide as she watched Jeriana descend and the spirit lion roar. "Saly."
Omfry landed beside her in a crouch, dust swirling.
He looked down at her, calmly assessing the damage. "You took quite the beating."
Anuel winced, glancing toward Ziraiah. The girl lay slumped nearby, breathing hard. Her armor was cracked. Blood ran from her temple. Her left hand was exposed and scorched.
The flame lion roared again—its neck glowing with magma-light. Then, with primal fury, it unleashed a devastating beam of fire that swept the battlefield, incinerating monsters, Raiders, even Unbounds. All but the chosen few marked by Jeriana's cards.
The beast charged, claws slicing through stone, jaws crushing all in its path. Every step left craters. It moved like vengeance.
Not far off—Beily was losing ground.
The three Lycans fought like phantoms. One flashed behind him, the other two flanked. He blocked one strike, spun, and deflected another. His arms blurred, disks slicing through the air.
But then—rip.
A scream tore through the air.
His bottom-left arm—gone. Torn off at the joint, blood spraying as Beily growled in pain. Still, he didn't falter. But the shock loosened his grip—Valerius and Eryndor slipped from his arms, tumbling forward onto the blood-soaked ground.
One Lycan snatched Eryndor by the waist. Another grabbed Valerius by the arm. They bolted in opposite directions—kicking off debris, tearing through the battlefield.
Beily staggered forward, bleeding, reaching for them.
"No—!"
But they were already gone.
---
Far ahead, they ran—blazing at sonic speeds, twin Lycans slicing the wind like daggers through silk. Each held one of the Delindor brothers—Valerius and Eryndor—tucked under their arms like precious prizes.
They moved so fast… it looked as if the world had frozen.
To them, everything was still.
The chaos.
The screams.
Even the very wind.
Except one thing.
Omfry.
Kneeling beside Anuel, one hand steady on her shoulder, the other casually resting at his side. His head turned slightly.
Their eyes met.
And every instinct inside the Lycans screamed.
That man… is death.
Their blood froze. Their minds shouted to flee.
They tried.
Claws screeched against shattered stone as they attempted to brake, the ground cratering violently beneath their feet.
But then—
He vanished.
Gone, like a whisper before breath.
In less than a blink—no, less than a thought—they turned.
And found him.
Seated calmly on a jagged boulder just ahead, legs crossed. On either side of him:
Valerius.
Eryndor.
Unharmed.
Floated mid air beside Omfry.
The Lycans didn't understand.
They looked down.
And saw it.
Two perfect, brutal holes where their hearts had once been.
Then—they saw Omfry's hands.
Each one held two hearts.
Still pulsing faintly.
He smirked.
They looked at each other one last time.
They wanted to scream.
To fight.
To live.
But they no longer had the strength—or the blood—to do any of those things.
Their speed betrayed them.
Without control, without balance, without life—
BOOM. BOOM.
They hit the walls at sonic velocity, cratering the stone with such force it echoed like thunder through the ruin.
And only then—
Only after the craters were carved into the walls—
Did time resume.
Valerius and Eryndor were still midair, arms limp, eyes unfocused, unaware anything had happened. Then, they fell.
No thoughts.
No reactions.
No idea they'd been saved.
Behind them, the Lycans collapsed in silence, blood pouring from their mouths, eyes wide.
Bodies twitching.
Then still.
Omfry stood, tossed the hearts away like fruit rinds, and rolled his shoulders.
"That's what you get for laying hands on my people."
The wind howled again.
The ruin screamed with chaos.
But here, for a moment—
Only silence remained.
And death.
---
To Be Continued...