CHAPTER 258: CHAPTER 260: END THE IMLAN KINGDOM (PART 2)

But the barrier holds.

Inside the capital, soldiers are thrown to the ground. Windows shatter across the plaza. Birds fall from the sky mid-flight. Every wardstone in the city’s defense system flares to maximum output, humming like a swarm of angry gods.

And on the walls—

Silence.

Dozens of men are collapsed, gasping, crying, vomiting. Some are unconscious. Others... worse.

A young Tier 2 soldier near Caizie stares blankly ahead. His lips tremble. Then his bladder gives out. Wetness pools at his boots.

He’s not the only one.

Dozens of younger soldiers—those who’ve never seen true war, who’ve only trained with wooden weapons and sparred against dummies—break.

Caizie clutches her thin sword so tightly her knuckles crack. "Gods... that wasn’t even a direct hit."

Bulad’s face is a granite mask, but his voice rings with fury.

"Get up!" he roars, louder than the wind, louder than the screams. "I said GET UP!"

Some soldiers flinch, others blink through tears, and slowly, some begin to rise—shaky, ashamed, but still breathing.

"This isn’t the time to cry," Bulad growls. "You can cry when it’s over. If you want to piss yourself, do it on their corpses, not your knees!"

He storms past a cowering squad, grabbing one by the collar and hauling him to his feet.

"You wanted to be soldiers? You wanted to protect your homes? Then fight!"

Another crash slams against the barrier. This one sends cracks spiderwebbing through a portion near the eastern tower. The mages nearby scream, their bodies glowing with strain as they pour more mana into stabilizing the shield.

The human soldiers, battered by terror, begin to recover. Bit by bit. They grit their teeth. They rise. The dome still stands, their city still breathes—and that’s enough.

On the other side of the battlefield, where the monster tide surges like a living flood.

Mhazul stands unmoved, eyes still glowing from the wrath he unleashed.

He watches as the shield still holds.

"...Not bad," he mutters.

Virela shifts beside him, arms crossed, tail flicking with idle grace. "They didn’t break. Not fully."

She leans her head to one side, flexing her fingers. Sparks of wind dance between her claws. "Should I start? I’m getting bored here. Those two—Grathum and Zurrak—are probably fighting the imperial dogs with a smile on their faces."

Mhazul doesn’t answer immediately. He just stares at the distant capital, at the stubborn glow of the shield still holding firm.

Then, finally, he shrugs. "Do what you want."

Virela smirks. "Still sulking because you lost the bet?"

Mhazul’s eye twitches. Just slightly.

"Could’ve been me up there, carving through those peak Tier 6 humans... but these weaklings will do," Virela says, stretching her neck. The wind around her coils tighter—sharp, restless.

"I don’t find joy in bullying weaklings," Mhazul mutters.

Virela grins.

"Oh, I do."

She vanishes in a blink.

CRACK!

The air implodes behind her, leaving a roaring spiral of torn wind in her wake.

She rockets toward the shield—fast enough that her form becomes a streak of silver and blue. The wind parts before her, screaming. The monster army instinctively ducks, shielding their eyes as she tears across the battlefield like a divine spear.

Bulad sees it coming.

"INCOMING!"

But it’s too late for commands.

BOOOOOM!

Virela slams into the barrier with her shoulder, and the dome wails. Shockwaves hammer outward in concentric rings, shaking buildings, toppling towers near the wall’s edge. The barrier flares white from the force—straining, flickering—before it stabilizes again.

On the wall, Caizie stumbles. "What the hell was that—?"

"Again!" Virela cackles from above.

She’s already rising.

She hovers midair, wind streaming off her body like a living storm. Her arms spread wide, and her voice pierces the sky.

"Tier 5: Spiral Rend: Gale Execution."

A dozen spears of solid wind form around her, shaped from compressed air, sharper than obsidian. They spin around her like orbiting moons—and then with a flick of her hand, they shoot down.

FWWWWIP! FWWWWIP! FWWWWIP!

The spears slam into the barrier, each one hitting with the force of a collapsing building. Cracks spider across the dome. Mages along the wall scream from the mana feedback, dropping to their knees.

Inside the city, alarms blare.

Bulad sees the cracks deepen across the barrier’s inner webbing. The mana flux is unstable now—too many overload points.

He grips his spear tight, the haft buzzing with barely contained lightning.

"Let’s go, Caizie," he says grimly, turning toward her. "If we let that monster keep playing, this barrier won’t last much longer."

Caizie nods, breath sharp. "We should be able to hold her off long enough. Reinforcements are en route... we just have to survive until then."

She hesitates for a heartbeat, eyes flicking toward the distant ridge where Mhazul watches like a silent god.

"If that other monster moves..."

Bulad follows her gaze. Mhazul stands perfectly still, arms crossed.

Bulad’s voice is low. "Looks like that bastard’s not going to interfere. That monster probably thinks we’re not worth the effort."

Another boom. The barrier shudders again.

Bulad doesn’t wait. He kicks off the rampart and soars into the air, his spear spinning with a roar of thunder. Lightning arcs from his shoulders, trailing behind him like a comet’s tail.

Caizie follows, water spiraling around her thin blade, her form cutting through the air like a glint of steel.

Above the city—

Virela is preparing her next strike when a CRACK splits the sky.

Bulad appears in front of her in a blink, spear cocked back. His body blazes with crackling arcs.

"Tier 5: Thunder Breaker!"

He thrusts.

The spear becomes a bolt of thunder. Pure force explodes from the point of contact.

Virela barely crosses her arms in time. The blow hammers her through the air, sending her spiraling dozens of meters before she rights herself with a flip and growls.

"Oooh... now we’re playing."

Caizie doesn’t speak—she’s already moving.

She flashes beside Virela with a burst of speed, blade trailing spirals of water. She slashes upward.

"Tier 5: Flow Cut."

A graceful arc—sharp enough to slice a boulder in half—rakes toward Virela’s exposed flank.

Virela tilts midair and lets the edge skim past her skin, deflecting most of the blow with wind.

She smirks. "Cute."

Bulad appears behind her.

"Not done."

BOOM!

Another flash of thunder. His spear swings sideways like a collapsing mountain—Tier 5: Stormbreaker Arc—and Virela twists midair just in time, wind wrapping around her as a buffer. The impact sends shockwaves through the clouds, splitting them like torn paper. Lightning cracks in jagged forks behind her as she’s forced back again.

But she’s laughing.

Virela’s laughter rolls across the sky like a songbird in a storm.

She spins once in the air, flipping backward lazily as if stretching her limbs after a nap. Wind curls around her fingers like eager serpents, coiling and uncoiling in spiraling patterns of silver and white.

"Two-on-one?" she says, tail flicking playfully. "How generous of you."

Bulad doesn’t answer. His eyes are locked onto her, unblinking. The spear in his hand vibrates with energy—each pulse of thunder building beneath the surface of his skin like a storm barely contained.

Caizie lands a few meters behind him, breathing steadily, her sword lowered but ready. Water flickers along her blade in tiny waves, droplets floating midair as if gravity has forgotten them.

"She’s not taking us seriously," Caizie mutters. "We need to change that."

Bulad’s jaw tightens. "Then we’ll make her."

Virela sighs dramatically. "Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve fought someone slow? I almost miss it."

She spreads her arms.

"Come then. Show me your terror."

Before the wind can even finish coiling—

Bulad vanishes.

CRACK—

He reappears behind her, low and fast—his body enveloped in a sphere of condensed lightning. His voice roars as the clouds above spiral.

"Tier 6: Heaven Spear Descent!"

The skies answer him.

A spear of lightning, ten meters long, rips down from the heavens like divine punishment, aimed directly at Virela’s head.

But her smile widens.

Wind explodes outward in a dome.

"Tier 6: Cyclone Throne."

The lightning strikes the swirling barrier—but instead of penetrating, it spins violently around her, caught in her vortex. The blast becomes unstable, unraveling with a thunderous shriek that tears apart the sky—but not her.

She grins, stepping out of the dissolving wind like a queen from her court.

"I was wondering when you’d stop holding back."

Caizie doesn’t hesitate.

"Tier 6: Sea Chain Sever!"

The sky darkens behind her. Water crashes upward in a towering spiral—formed from the moisture in the clouds. Chains of liquid steel form from the vortex, each one snapping forward like a whip.

They lash toward Virela from five directions—one binding her arms, another her legs, the last three aimed at her neck, midsection, and tail.

The air hisses as pressure collapses around the strike.

Virela still smirking.

"...Oh?"

She raises a hand.

"Tier 6: Windbreaker Spires."

A dozen jagged spires of hardened air burst upward from her position, piercing into the water chains. Some are deflected. Others twist. One chain wraps around her ankle, another grazes her shoulder.

But she spins again, twisting out of the tangle mid-air like a dancer in a storm.

She lets the water wrap around her arm—just to prove she can shatter it.

With a pulse of her core—

BOOM!

She explodes outward.

Shockwaves ripple in every direction. Both Caizie and Bulad are thrown back by the force. Not far—but enough to stall their rhythm.

Bulad regains position first, gritting his teeth.

"How is that monster so strong."

"I know," Caizie snaps, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth.