CHAPTER 110: CH 110: RETRIVING THE POWER- PART 3

The ancient city trembled as Fenrir stood atop the cracked remains of what had once been a temple.

Dust and debris swirled in the air like smoke, and every breath he took was laced with the taste of stone and time.

His boots crushed shattered tiles beneath them, and his coat billowed in the growing wind.

He could feel it—his power. Agitated. Restless. Hiding no longer.

"Come on. I know you’re there. Stop pretending."

Fenrir muttered.

As if in response, the ground shuddered violently.

Stones lifted and collided midair, fusing with a noise like bone snapping and metal grinding.

Columns cracked and flew into the sky, beams and shattered bricks swirling like they were caught in a vortex. Fenrir stepped back, eyes narrowing.

From the storm of destruction, a monstrous form emerged—a colossal dragon-shaped construct built entirely of rubble, metal, and forgotten magic.

Its wings were jagged slates of stone, and its maw was a broken cathedral doorway lined with shattered statues as teeth. Mana pulsed within its body, giving it unholy life.

It reared back and let out a deep, grinding roar that shook the sky itself.

"Well, there you are."

Fenrir muttered.

The dragon lunged, but before it could reach Fenrir, a blur of red and gold slammed into its side—Nedrax, claws glowing and teeth bared, roared as he shoved the dragon back with sheer force.

Rubble exploded outward like shrapnel.

"Hah! This is it? This is the great power you’ve been whining about?"

Nedrax laughed.

He slashed across the dragon’s leg, sending a chunk of debris flying.

"I could take on three of these things before breakfast!"

Fenrir kept his eyes on the creature.

"Don’t let your guard down. That power may look like junk, but it’s mine. Or... it was. And I dominated the tower with it."

"You say that like I should be scared."

Nedrax grinned.

He wasn’t even done talking before the dragon pulsed with mana and exploded into action.

In a blink, its serpentine tail struck and coiled around Nedrax, slamming him into the ground and then wrapping around his limbs like a living chain.

"GRAAAH—what the hell?! I can’t move?!"

Nedrax shouted.

Fenrir didn’t even flinch.

"Because you’re not actually bound."

"Huh?"

"You’re caught in its illusion. It’s not real. That’s what that power does—it plays tricks on your mind. Makes you think you’re helpless when you’re not. It wants you to believe you’re already lost."

Fenrir said flatly.

Nedrax blinked, then grit his teeth.

"Tch. Crafty piece of—"

With a surge of willpower, he roared and forced his limbs to move. The illusion shattered like glass, and the coils around him vanished. He landed on all fours and spat.

"Ugh. It’s been too long since I fought a real mind-bender."

Fenrir rolled his shoulders.

"Good. Now stop talking and focus."

Behind him, the five hamsters had frozen in mid-destruction, watching the scene with wide eyes. Fenrir looked over his shoulder and barked.

"And that goes for you lot, too. Don’t just stand there like idiots."

Fenrir smirked.

"You saw what happened to Nedrax. Don’t fall for the same trap. Watch the magic, not the monster."

The hamsters exchanged quick glances, then nodded and sprang into motion.

With their small size and immense strength, they scattered in different directions, keeping their distance from the dragon while targeting the key points in its structure—joints, mana cores, and stabilizing runes.

Nedrax launched back into the fray, this time dodging the beast’s strikes with greater clarity.

"Alright, now that I know what I’m dealing with, let’s get serious."

The dragon’s roar shook the ruins again, and waves of illusion washed over the battlefield.

Buildings warped, sky turned crimson, and shadows seemed to reach for the group from every direction.

Fenrir walked calmly through it all. He could see the falsehood in every breath of magic.

This was his power, after all. And it could try to hide, to change, to scare—but it had once belonged to him. He knew its tricks.

"Time to come home."

He said coldly.

He unsheathed his blade, its black surface crackling with elemental force, and charged directly at the dragon’s core—the beating heart of mana pulsing in its chest.

The creature screamed, hurling stone and magic in a frenzied attempt to stop him, but Fenrir slipped through its defenses like smoke.

He leapt, blade flashing once—then twice—and with a deafening crack, he slammed it deep into the dragon’s heart.

The illusion faltered. The ruins trembled again.

And the dragon let out one final shuddering roar before collapsing into a rain of dust and broken memories.

Fenrir landed silently, staring into the fading core.

"You can’t run from me."

He said softly.

The shattered remnants of the illusion drifted into the air like sparks from a dying fire.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes, watching as the last fragments of the dragon’s form scattered across the wind.

But even in its collapse, he could feel the core of his power slithering away, trying to make one final escape.

"Tch. Still trying to run?"

He muttered.

The power, sensing its end was near, created a new illusion—this time more desperate, more deceptive.

The ground beneath Fenrir shifted into a mirror image of his old self: the tower conqueror, cloaked in power, flanked by followers, standing at the summit of glory.

The illusion whispered promises of what once was, urging him to fall for the fantasy, to chase a ghost of pride instead of the truth.

But Fenrir didn’t even blink.

He raised his hand and slammed it into the earth, activating Master of Earth.

The ground obeyed instantly, cracking and rising around the illusion, forming a cage of stone and soil.

The writhing energy of his former power, now trapped within the ring of hardened rock, pulsed violently in protest, but it couldn’t break free.

"You’re done."

Fenrir said coldly.

With a single motion, he reached into the cage, and the energy swirled toward him like a homing flame.

It clung to his hand before seeping into his body, vanishing beneath his skin. The moment it entered him, a cold shiver ran down his spine, and a message appeared before his eyes.

[System Message

A fragment of your power has been reclaimed.

New Title Unlocked: Master of Illusion.]

Fenrir exhaled slowly, feeling the rush of forgotten strength return to him.

The familiar threads of his illusion-based abilities stirred beneath the surface, like an old friend waking from a long sleep.

He turned to his party.

"We’re done here. Let’s head back. Dungeon first."

The imp, Grizzle, gave a wild grin and immediately vanished into the dungeon’s portal, clutching a bulging sack of materials with a greedy gleam in his eye.

"So much quality junk! I can make at least ten new projects with this haul... maybe eleven!"

He muttered to himself.

The hamsters didn’t waste time either. They followed quickly, chattering among themselves about the fight and their favorite parts of the destruction.

Only Nedrax remained behind, standing with his arms crossed and his wings tucked tightly. His eyes, for once, were serious.

"You did well, but don’t get cocky. Knowledge might be your weapon now, but knowledge without power is just an empty threat. The tower won’t go easy on you."

He warned.