CHAPTER 259: CHAPTER 261: THE SHIELD IS DOWN

Mhazul watches from his distant perch, arms still folded, eyes half-lidded like he’s watching a game he already knows the ending to. The wind from Virela’s last shockwave reaches him seconds later, tugging at the loose strands of his hair.

"She could have killed them in minutes," he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "But she’s playing with them."

His tone is flat, neither approving nor disapproving—just stating a fact.

Far away from the battlefield, far even from the monster tide, the air itself bends in unnatural stillness.

Grathum’s molten skin pulses faintly beneath his stony armor, the magma lines across his body glowing like veins of fire. His massive arms rest on the haft of a jagged obsidian warhammer, its head still steaming from the heat it constantly bleeds.

Beside him drifts Zurrak, his Void Warg form barely tethered to reality. Shadows cling to his fur like living smoke, the edges of his body blurring and reforming in slow, deliberate pulses. His eyes are bottomless voids, the kind that make the air hum with wrongness.

They wait.

Neither moves. Neither speaks at first.

Finally, Grathum snorts, sending a thin stream of smoke curling from his nostrils. "They’re late."

Zurrak’s ears twitch. His gaze sharpens on the horizon.

"There they are," he murmurs. "Two humans... flying toward us as fast as lightning."

Grathum turns his head slightly, magma light flaring under his cracked skin.

"They stop when they see us," Zurrak adds, his tone almost amused.

The first human—lean, sharp-eyed—halts midair, a dagger already in his hand. Electric arcs run along its edge, humming with deadly intent.

"Oh," the man says, his voice steady despite the distance. "You’re here to stop us from helping. You monsters are smarter than the ones on this continent... didn’t think I’d see the day."

Zurrak tilts his head, his voice a low growl.

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

The other human—a massive figure with broad shoulders, a colossal hammer resting across his back—steps forward in the air. His armor bears deep scars, and faint tremors ripple in the space around him as if the earth itself breathes with him.

Grathum grins wide, teeth like glowing stone.

"Entertain us, humans."

The words are barely out of his mouth before the dagger user blurs forward—faster than sound. A flash of white-blue arcs across the gap, lightning snapping in his wake.

Zurrak doesn’t move until the man’s blade is inches from his neck.

SHHHK!

Space itself twists. The human’s slash cuts through a ripple of darkness—only to find Zurrak gone. His instincts scream—he spins, dagger up just as a claw swipes for his spine. Sparks fly as steel meets void-forged talon.

Lightning surges from the dagger, wrapping around his claws and detonating in a thunderclap. The shockwave forces Zurrak back, but the he fades into nothing before momentum can toss him away.

Below, Grathum’s opponent charges. The hammer user crashes through the air like a meteor, the very sky trembling with each step. A brown-gold aura erupts around him, jagged chunks of stone orbiting his form.

"Tier 5: Earthbreak Rush!"

The man slams down onto an invisible platform midair and launches himself at Grathum, hammer first.

Grathum plants his feet and swings his warhammer upward in a molten arc.

"Tier 5: Magma Surge!"

When their weapons meet, the impact sends a shockwave down to the distant ground, tearing trenches into the earth far below. Lava splashes from Grathum’s hammerhead, splattering against the human’s armor and instantly cooling into jagged stone.

The man grunts, twisting his hammer free and stomping on the air—each step solidifying as a plate of compacted earth forms beneath his boots. With a roar, he spins, hammer trailing a cyclone of rock.

Zurrak, mid-clash with the dagger wielder, flickers back into sight for just a heartbeat—just long enough to catch a slash aimed at his throat between two claws. He forces the human down with raw strength, only for the dagger to vanish in a flash of lightning and reappear at Zurrak’s flank.

The Void Warg growls in faint irritation. "Good tricks."

The man smirks. "Thank you."

Grathum and his foe crash together again, the earth-wielder slamming his hammer into the ground—well, the air below them—causing a shockwave of solid rock to erupt upward like a blooming mountain. Grathum walks through it, each boulder melting to slag before touching him.

"You’ll have to do better than that!" Grathum bellows, warhammer swinging in a glowing arc. The heat distorts the air, turning the space between them into a furnace.

Every clash between them is not just a collision of weapons—it’s a collision of mountains.

When Grathum’s hammer meets the human’s again, the sound is less an impact and more a mountain exploding. The air screams as the shockwave rips outward, flattening everything within miles. The ground far below erupts into chaos—massive craters forming, ridges splitting, molten lines carving their way into the soil from the sheer bleed-off of Grathum’s heat.

High above, Zurrak and the dagger-wielder are blurs to the naked eye. Without Tier 6 perception, it would look like they vanish and reappear in random points in the sky—each reappearance marked by an instant detonation, a white-flash shockwave, or a fresh crater below.

The human darts in again, his dagger carving an arc of lightning so bright it paints shadows onto the clouds.

"Tier 6: Stormpiercer!"

The strike rips through the void mist clinging to Zurrak, detonating in a sphere of blinding white-blue. The explosion clears the clouds for miles, sending wind currents into violent spirals.

But Zurrak steps out of the blast sideways, as if the explosion never existed in his reality. His claw lashes out once—one swipe—and the space it cuts through unravels, leaving a pitch-black gash hanging in the air. The human barely pivots away before the tear snaps shut, dragging the surrounding air with it in a deafening implosion.

Zurrak’s voice rumbles through the air, low and steady.

"Not bad, human. You are better than I expected."

The dagger-wielder freezes mid-flight, one eyebrow twitching.

"Huh? Am I hearing that right?" His tone sharpens into a snarl. "A lowly race like you, monster, looks down on me?"

Zurrak’s expression doesn’t change—only the faint shimmer of his void aura swirls a little faster.

"Monster..." the human spits, electricity gathering on his blade. "I’ll show you why—in the hundreds of continents in this world—humans reign supreme on most of them!"

His form blurs. In an instant, two separate Tier 6 auras ignite around him—one a roaring storm of lightning, the other a sharp, pressure-like force that distorts the air. Power rips through the space between them, shattering the closest cloud banks and bending the light around his body.

Zurrak just stares for a heartbeat... then smirks. "Two?"

The air howls as his own energy erupts. One, two, three, four—four distinct Tier 6 buffs slam into reality around him. Space warps like a cracked mirror, shadows splitting into layered copies, and the pressure alone forces the human’s lightning back toward him in spiraling arcs.

The dagger-wielder’s smirk dies instantly. "...What?"

Below, the hammer-wielder has his own declaration. "Tier 6: Mountain King’s Endurance! Tier 6: Earth Titan’s Wrath!"

The ground—miles below—shakes under the weight of his new aura, jagged spikes of stone rising even this high into the air.

Grathum watches... and laughs, a molten growl rolling from his chest. "So proud of your tricks..."

Then he ignites. One, two, three, four—four separate Tier 6 buffs burst outward, magma veins surging brighter, jagged armor thickening, the very heat around him turning white-hot. The sky glows red above them, and the human’s earthen aura begins to crack under the sheer temperature.

"...Impossible," the hammer-wielder mutters, gripping his weapon tighter.

Grathum steps forward once, and the air warps from the heat.

The hammer-wielder tries to brace—feet spreading, aura flaring—but the magma giant moves faster than his size should allow. The warhammer arcs down like a comet, smashing into the human’s guard with such force that the sky fractures, a visible ring of heat distortion expanding outward.

The man’s arms buckle. His own hammer is ripped from his grip, spinning into the distance. Before he can retrieve it, Grathum’s massive hand closes around his chest. The armor hisses, melts, and the human screams as molten cracks spread across it. Grathum grins.

"Not so proud now."

He swings the human like a club, smashing him into the nearest mountain, shattering it into dust.

Above, Zurrak has shifted from testing to hunting. The dagger-wielder darts in with a desperate feint—lightning flashing—only to stab through an afterimage. Claws rake across his back, shredding through enchanted leather. His scream is cut off when Zurrak’s paw—nearly the size of the man’s torso—slams into him, sending him hurtling through the air.

The human tumbles for hundreds of meters before stopping himself midair, blood dripping from his mouth.

"You’re... playing with me?!" he growls.

Zurrak appears in front of him without a sound.

"Yes."

----

Back at the city

An hour have passed since the first assault. The barrier—once a solid dome of shimmering light—now flickers and dims, spiderweb cracks crawling across its surface.

The soldiers inside are battered shadows of their earlier selves. Armor dented. Faces streaked with blood and dirt. Breath coming in ragged bursts.

"They... still haven’t come," one soldier pants, leaning on his spear.

"They’re not coming," another mutters, voice trembling.

On the walls, captains shout orders, but their voices are hoarse from hours of command. Archers loose arrows into the mass of monsters outside, but each volley is weaker than the last.

A deep boom echoes as Virela’s distant battle shakes the air, and several soldiers flinch.

Then—

A sharp crack.

Everyone freezes. The barrier’s surface trembles... and then shatters like glass under a hammer. The sound is deafening—a high, crystalline scream that echoes across the battlefield. Shards of pure light dissolve into motes, fading into the air.