Vlad’s eyes pierced beyond flesh and muscle—his gaze delved straight into the souls of the approaching Vorotallciae. What he saw confird his worst suspicions.
Their Soul Dinsions churned with unstable, raging energy—chaotic, unnatural, and violently unbalanced. These warriors hadn’t achieved their ranks through orthodox cultivation. No, they had been forcibly elevated through forbidden, soul-corrupting magic.
Even if they survived this battle, Vlad knew with certainty that none of these Sages of Garugna Voroes would live past two months. Their foundations were rotting, burning from within.
As cold and ruthless as it was, Vlad had to admit—whoever had orchestrated this surge of power had been decisive. Had he not prepared for such a scenario, this encounter could have spelled catastrophe for the Korokor Stronghold.
Despite holding the defensive advantage, their forces were significantly outnumbered. The Korokor army had less than 250 Sages and barely 3,500 Guardians. Compared to the over 10,000 enemies before them—including more than 1,200 artificially empowered Sages—the difference was staggering.
However, it wasn’t the main force that drew Vlad’s attention. His eyes sharpened as they lifted past the army’s ranks and focused on the two towering figures floating above them—two Legendary Vorotallciae.
He recognized one instantly: Asuru, the wingless draconic warrior of ice. The other, however, was sothing else entirely.
This second Legendary Vorotallciae was a vision of predatory horror—an embodint of bloodlust, shadow, and primal wrath. He was massive and terrifying, his body wrapped in obsidian-black organic armor that shifted like living tal. Spiked ridges, jagged spines, and serrated claws adorned his entire form. Every part of him radiated restrained violence—lean but monstrous limbs built for butchery, crouched in a hunter’s stance.
His face was no less terrifying: a grotesque, twisted snarl frozen in a permanent growl. His jaw stretched unnaturally, revealing rows of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs. His eyes glowed a deep, unsettling crimson—not with fire, but with a raw, feral sentience that suggested the mind of a beast too intelligent to be tad.
The very presence of this monstrous warrior pressed down on Vlad’s heart. "I can’t say for certain," he thought, clenching his fists, "but his power... it feels like Spartacus."
Every instinct in Vlad scread danger, but he did not flinch. Instead, his mind sharpened with cold focus. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a corpse—the Legendary Vorotallciae Karot, whose heart he had once torn out in battle.
A ripple of shock spread across the sky as Asuru’s eyes landed on the body.
He recognized it imdiately.
Karot had fallen to Vlad—torn apart and discarded. And yet now, the sa corpse hovered beside the True Depravita, eyes glowing with demonic soul energy, standing ready to fight again.
"What is the aning of this, Asuru!?" barked the monstrous, bat-like Legendary Vorotallciae. His voice was cruel and cold, vibrating with disdain and power. "You told us Karot was dead!"
The draconic Asuru trembled slightly beneath the weight of the accusation.
"I assure you, Lord Sebastian," he said quickly, his voice cracking slightly, "he was dead. I saw his heart torn from his chest. I don’t know what this is... but that’s not Karot’s soul. Sothing else is possessing his body!"
Asuru’s tone was desperate—more for survival than explanation. If he were found guilty of abandoning a fellow Legendary during retreat, he would be executed without hesitation.
Sebastian sneered but said nothing. He, too, could sense it now. The soul inhabiting the corpse was not entirely Vorotallciae. It was close—imitative—but wrong.
"Then enough talk. We march," Sebastian growled.
With a deafening roar, he gave the command.
The entire Vorotallciae army surged forward, a tidal wave of warriors crashing toward the Korokor Stronghold. The ground shook beneath their approach, dust rising as their auras filled the battlefield with suffocating pressure.
Within the Korokor ranks, tension mounted. Warriors clenched their weapons tighter, their gazes fixed ahead. They could feel the danger approaching with every step. The battle would be brutal.
All eyes turned to Vlad, waiting for his command.
But the True Depravita said nothing.
Without a word, Vlad and Karot surged forward, breaking from the formation and heading directly toward the heart of the enemy. Toward Sebastian. Toward Asuru. Toward war.
Shock spread through the Korokor ranks. Dread quickly followed.
Vlad wasn’t ascending into the sky to keep the battlefield safe from collateral damage—he was charging straight toward the enemy’s front line, toward the worst possible position. Dozens of voices cried out internally. If he engaged the enemy’s strongest so close to the foot soldiers, he could be struck by hundreds—thousands—of Sage spells raining down at once.
So feared that Vlad was still too new to his Legendary might, unaware of how dangerous mass spell bombardnt could be.
But it was too late. Vlad and Karot were already upon them.
Sebastian and Asuru hesitated in brief confusion before cruel smiles curled across their faces. Let the fool co. All they had to do was keep him occupied for a few monts—just long enough for over a thousand spells to strike him down.
Vlad’s eyes glowed as his demonic soul force erupted.
With a roar, new arms burst from his chest—an unnatural extension of his evolving form. Each hand radiated with power capable of sundering mountains as he darted toward Sebastian with terrifying speed.
At the sa ti, Karot’s blank eyes locked on Asuru.
The reanimated corpse lunged, initiating a frontal assault. Asuru blinked in confusion—the attack seed full of openings, sloppy and predictable. Sothing felt wrong.
But he didn’t have ti to think.
Karot was already upon him.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A deafening explosion shook the sky as Vlad and Sebastian collided, shockwaves cracking the air. Trails of blood trickled from Vlad’s mouth as the sheer force of Sebastian’s strike tore into him. The Legendary Vorotallciae’s power was monstrous—far greater than anything Vlad had encountered before.
Yet Vlad did not falter.
anwhile, the other battle ended in a far less balanced clash.
A rending sound echoed like a thunderclap as Asuru’s claw pierced straight through Karot’s chest, driving deep into the corpse’s flesh.
Reviews
All reviews (0)