Chapter 1760: Making A Team
The argunt between these two continued for a while, even when they crossed half of this strange dinsion, and the Elythrii listened in awe and fear.
The battle of words between these two was imnse, ancient, and far beyond Lyra’s and the Elythrii’s comprehension, yet it was fought with the familiarity of two beings who had known each other for eons.
It was their hidden clash, laid bare against the surreal backdrop of the Shattered Mirror, and Lyra suspected that in the center of this argunt was a single person, a hidden creator.
Before the debate could escalate further, the ground beneath them shuddered, not from the ceaseless Echo of the Arena but from a localized impact. Sothing huge had landed ahead of them, behind a ridge of sharp black glass.
Vraegar froze, his head cocked. ” Titan Scavengers. Drawn by the call of the Arena. They seek to feed on the spilled power of this wounded dinsion.”
Fury cracked his knuckles, which sounded like splitting granite. “Oh, good. I was getting bored with philosophical debate. Let’s go break sothing.”
He and Vraegar moved forward as one, a sudden and terrifyingly coordinated unit. The argunt was forgotten in the face of a common, imdiate threat. The Elythrii followed, their own weapons ready; this may be their first major combat in this realm.
Peering over the ridge, they saw the Titan scavengers. They were unlike any race Lyra had ever seen or heard of. They were massive, six-legged beasts with chitinous plates the color of a deep bruise. They had no heads, but a single, massive, bloodshot eye set in the center of their torsos. They were tearing at the landscape itself, breaking off shards of the black glass with powerful mandibles and swallowing them, seemingly feeding on the concentrated dissonance of the place. There were three of them.
“Reality-eaters,” Vraegar identified, his voice thick with distaste. “Vermin, they take everything, shrinking Reality with their hunger. Their kind was exterminated in the Primordial Era, but with the destruction of the Great Desert, all kinds of horrors now walk the realm once more.”
“My turn,” Fury said, a wild grin spreading across his face. He leaped from the ridge.
He didn’t fall. He flew, propelled by a jet of fire that erupted from his boots. He shot towards the nearest beast, his body transforming mid-air. His skin cracked like cooling magma, revealing the furious orange glow beneath. He beca less a man and more a cot of contained fury.
All the phoenixes that usually surrounded his body were sucked into his core, where they generated nine-colored flas that pulsed through his soul, radiating outwards from his flesh like stars.
He slamd fist-first into the creature’s eye. There was a wet, sizzling pop, and the beast let out a guttural shriek that was pure psychic pain. It flailed blindly as Fury clung to it, his hands sinking into its flesh, which began to smoke and burn from the inside out. The sll was horrific.
Vraegar did not move to help. He simply watched. “Brutal. But effective.”
The other two beasts turned from their feeding, their massive eyes focusing on the burning thing that was killing their kin. They charged.
Lyra didn’t hesitate. “Elythrii! Harmonic Strike! On the left one!”
Her warriors, disciplined despite their fear, fell into formation. They didn’t charge. They planted their feet, and their armor began to glow with a soft, green-gold light. They raised their weapons, not to stab or slash, but to hum. A specific, resonant frequency, a chord of pure life and order that they used to purify corruption.
The sound hit the left-hand beast like a physical wave. It screeched, stumbling back, its chaotic form repulsed by the focused harmony. Its chitinous plates vibrated violently, and cracks appeared in its shell.
The third beast ignored them and thundered toward Fury, who was now cheerfully setting the first creature’s insides on fire.
Vraegar finally moved. He didn’t attack. He simply inhaled.
A cone of absolute cold, an absence of breath that had frozen light and ti itself, washed over the charging beast. It didn’t freeze solid; it simply… stopped. Its montum ceased. Its twitching limbs locked in place. The very air around it crystallized. It was encased in a perfect, transparent coffin of ice, its malevolent eye fixed in an expression of eternal surprise.
The dragon had taken every single bit of essence inside the beast—its life, soul, mory, fate, and destiny. Yet sothing of this beast had been preserved by the dragon. This body turned to ice and stone would remain for many Eras, except it was destroyed, a silent monunt to the power of Vraegar.
From the mont Vraegar beca an Old One, he had been continuously learning and growing his power, his tactics becoming more refined as he hoped to one day be worthy enough to be called the first son of Rowan.
Fury blew up the first beast from the inside out, showering the area with smoking viscera. He landed, covered in gore that stead and evaporated off his molten skin. He looked at the frozen beast, then at the one the Elythrii were still repelling with their song.
“You couldn’t have done that five seconds earlier?” he complained to Vraegar.
“You had it well in hand,” the dragon replied, a trace of dry amusent in his voice. “I did not wish to interfere with your artistry. Also, do not forget that you were the one who made the first move.”
Fury grumbled but turned to the final beast. He pointed a single finger. A thin, white-hot beam of fire lanced out and struck the creature precisely in one of the cracks made by the Elythrii’s harmonic strike. The beam drilled inward. The beast shuddered, its psychic scream cut short as it exploded from within, shards of its shell flying everywhere.
Silence returned to the Shattered Mirror, broken only by the crackle of Fury’s body cooling down and the faint hum of the Elythrii’s weapons powering down.
Fury looked at the Elythrii, then at the frozen statue of the third beast, then at Vraegar. A wide, genuine grin split his face.
“You know,” he said, wiping a sar of ash from his cheek. “For a bunch of saplings, a walking leech, and a glorified campfire… we make a pretty good team.”
Lyra, her heart still hamring from the fight, looked from the incinerated remains to the frozen monunt to the exploded carcass.
They were three different kinds of annihilation, working in concert. The doubt in her stomach tightened. They were heading to a battle between a creator and an unmaker, escorted by a preserver and a destroyer.
She was no longer sure which side was which, or what her people’s place in this cosmic struggle truly was. All she knew was that the path ahead was far more complicated and far more dangerous than she had ever imagined. And the conversation was far from over.
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