The remaining three Dark Lords roared in fury, a sound so deep and guttural it rattled shields and made the very stones of the battlefield tremble. Their footsteps shook the ground with every stride, each movement radiating raw, predatory power. Members of the defense team were cut down mercilessly, their souls ripped from their bodies and absorbed into the tyrants' ever-growing strength. Helmond's heart pounded violently in his chest, his veins thrumming with both fear and fury — every fiber of his being screamed for action.
Rage ignited within him like wildfire, hotter and sharper than anything he had ever known.
With a sudden, explosive burst of speed, Helmond launched himself at the Dark Lord in front of him. He moved like a living shadow, too fast to track with the eye, leaving afterimages that flickered across the battlefield like specters. The tyrant swung wildly, claws slicing through air where Helmond had been only a heartbeat before, its movements frantic and uncertain against his impossible speed.
Rein stayed back, her eyes narrowing as her hands danced in intricate, rapid gestures. Spells burst from her staff in perfect synchronization — piercing beams of searing light, radiant energy that twisted and coiled around the enemy, and binding spells that shackled limbs with momentary precision. Each spell staggered the Dark Lord, opening a fleeting window that Helmond exploited mercilessly. His strikes landed in perfect succession, a blur of speed and accuracy that shredded armor and battered the tyrant with relentless ferocity.
The battlefield erupted into chaos — sparks flying from clashing weapons, stone cracking under the pressure of devastating blows, and the air vibrating violently with the raw force of unleashed energy. Every second was a life-or-death struggle, every strike and spell a desperate gamble.
Meanwhile, Eryndor's duel with Kharous Raine escalated to an almost unbearable intensity. Sweat streamed down his face as every swing of his blade demanded near-superhuman effort. His movements, once precise and fluid, now faltered ever so slightly. The Chainbound Lord's attacks grew sharper, faster, and more unforgiving, each one testing Eryndor's endurance to the edge of collapse.
Kharous' eyes glinted with predatory anticipation. He sensed the tiniest shift in Eryndor's form, the faintest weakening of balance. His hand twitched ever so slightly, preparing a strike capable of ending the battle in a single, decisive motion.
Before it could land, Leo stepped forward, the battlefield seeming to narrow around him. His eyes blazed like twin suns of determination.
"I'll take it from here," he said, his voice slicing through the chaos with a deadly calm.
Kharous turned his focus toward Leo, a faint, mocking smile appearing as he watched Eryndor crumble under his overwhelming power.
Now it was a one-on-one confrontation — the young warrior against a Tyrant whose mere presence warped the battlefield.
Leo struck first. With explosive speed, he landed a punch directly on Kharous' face. The force staggered the Chainbound Lord, a ripple of shock crossing his features. For a brief, almost impossible instant, it seemed he might fall — but his legendary endurance anchored him to the ground.
Without missing a beat, Leo raised his hand and unleashed a concentrated beam of blinding light. It tore through the battlefield like a spear of radiance, illuminating the chaos and striking Kharous with raw, relentless force.
As the beam held, Leo's hands danced, tracing intricate patterns in the air. Small, glowing circles of light formed, hovering and converging around Kharous. Each sigil pulsed with radiant energy, striking with surgical precision at the tyrant's weakest points. The gaps in his defense flared, each impact shaking him, if only slightly.
For the first time, the battlefield seemed to freeze.
Leo wasn't merely defending anymore.
He was the aggressor.
The light struck Kharous' armor with devastating timing, destabilizing him just enough to create openings. Leo seized the moment, intensifying the beam and directing it at Kharous' face and torso. The radiant energy tore through the air, the sheer force illuminating the battlefield with an almost unbearable brilliance.
Kharous staggered slightly, forced to divert all his attention toward this single, relentless threat. Leo had become more than a defender — he was now the primary danger.
Meanwhile, Rein and Helmond fought desperately against the three remaining Dark Lords. Helmond's movements were near-impossible to follow, each strike landing with surgical precision, while Rein's magic intertwined with every attack. Yet, even together, they barely managed to hold the tyrants at bay.
Ethan, drained from his earlier battles, found himself pinned against one of the Dark Lords. Every strike he attempted was met with terrifying ease. Just as a finishing blow descended, a surge of magical protection from the mages pulled him to safety. He collapsed, battered and unable to continue the fight.
The Dark Lords continued their relentless slaughter, cutting a path through the defense team, devouring souls, and shrugging off coordinated attacks. Their presence was an unyielding force, an embodiment of absolute terror.
Atop the castle, the Great Wizard faced an impossible choice. His remaining power was almost entirely depleted. Fighting directly was impossible. Yet, the city's fate depended on one desperate gamble.
He poured every last ounce of his magic into healing Sol's critical wounds.
It was a risk unlike any other.
The fate of the city rested on a corrupted being he could not fully trust. Sol could turn the tide… or betray them to Kharous.
But with Dark Lords overwhelming the defense and Leo facing the Chainbound King alone, there was no other option.
Sol remained silent.
He rose slowly, the corrupted double-edged blade pulsing with energy from the orb embedded within it. Dark power radiated from him in waves, black and writhing like living shadows. Instead of resisting the corruption, he welcomed it, embracing the destructive energy coursing through his veins.
With one decisive step, Sol returned to the battlefield.
A flash of corrupted energy engulfed him as he appeared in front of one of the Dark Lords. With a single, devastating strike, he cleaved through the tyrant's armor. Black energy erupted violently from the wound, a living shadow that tore through the Dark Lord's defenses. The tyrant collapsed instantly, unable to react.
The defense team froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
A corrupted Elf now fought alongside them.
Rein and Helmond's gazes locked in recognition — it was the same man they had saved earlier.