BOOM—
A fireball the size of a hut detonated midair, raining molten crimson onto the earth, boiling the snow to steam. The Godskins fell back in formation, shields locked, blades ready. Their mission wasn't hunting. Throne's survival meant nothing to them.
ROAR—
The Fire Giant bellowed, fury igniting its molten veins. It had been played for a fool. Now it charged, a living avalanche, straight at the four Godskins guarding the chains. Each step quaked the earth. Nothing in its path would survive—certainly not mortal hunters.
"Scatter. Hold it."
The Godskins didn't stand their ground like idiots. They split, eyes scanning the battlefield. No way Throne had been vaporized by that fireball.
Right on cue—
A meteor crashed between them. Throne landed crouched, left palm pressed to frozen earth. You wanted me to tank the boss? Funny. I wanted you to do my killing.
Frozen Earth.
High-tier frost magic crackled outward. Sellen's modifications had rewired his circuits—efficiency, control, capacity, all sharper now. No more burning every drop of mana just to breach the threshold.
To the Fire Giant, the ice was a joke. One stomp would shatter it.
But the Godskins? Their legs froze solid. That legendary hide, impervious to blades, resistant to spells—now encased in jagged crystal. The cold wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the thunderous footsteps closing in.
THUD—
The massive disc hammered the ground, then twisted, crushing upward like a tectonic plate. The Godskins launched skyward. Elite hunters, they twisted midair, refusing to be flattened. Too late. Throne was already there.
Starlight wreathed him, turning his form ghostly. Reduced gravity lightened his body. Storm winds propelled him. And his Aspects of the Crucible: Wings snapped open.
Let me teach you aerial combat.
A golden streak flashed. Throne rolled past a flaying knife, reverse-gripped halberd slashing for the Godskin Apostle's throat. The Apostle's body stretched unnaturally. The blade only grazed its chest. Most fighters would've lost momentum. Throne flared his wings. The storm reversed. His body pivoted midair.
Go.
He hurled the halberd. It speared the Apostle's back, pinning it to the earth. Throne didn't wait. He dove.
WHOOSH—BOOM!
Another fireball exploded behind him, painting his silhouette in hellish light. A pale ring bloomed midair as the golden meteor skimmed the ground. Too fast.
The Godskin Noble barely landed before bouncing back up. A golden streak blurred past—
BANG!!
The great axe smashed its gut. The apron absorbed most of the impact, but the sheer force still emptied its lungs. As it hurtled backward, it glimpsed the golden streak ascending, a radiant blue light bow forming in his hands.
If Throne had previously been an annoying crawler, he had now become an infuriating hornet—zipping between melee and range, relentless, unstoppable.
"He has Wings. Why isn't he just flying up?"
The Godskin Apostle at the forge's edge gaped. From his vantage, all he saw was a golden thread—rising, diving, rising again.
Light arrows clung to Alberich like burning needles. The Fire Giant's head thrashed, its neck twisting like a snapped tree limb. Throne finally understood—this man had come to slaughter every last Godskin. No other reason to lure them to the Forge, where they'd be cornered. A devious mind. Where did he find the mana for such carnage? The Godskin Apostle's confusion curdled into dread.
Melina's gaze locked onto his, urgent. No time left. This knight was a force of nature, carving through three barriers without slowing.
"Second one down."
Throne's voice was ragged. His eyes swept the dust-choked battlefield.
"The rest hiding in the dirt?"
Exhaustion etched lines into his face. Flight demanded magic, incantations, skill—a relentless drain on his stamina. Attacking while airborne was unsustainable.
"Can't kill them all. Time to go."
The golden meteor arced one final time before his wings winked out. Boots hit snow. Momentum carried him forward, straight toward the Fire Giant as it plunged a fist into the maw of its own belly.
This was no mindless beast. Throne's charge screamed threat. The giant wrenched free a molten fireball, squeezed—
The eruption hit like a volcano's breath. Crimson flames geysered outward. Throne didn't dodge. His left hand rose. Fingers closed around the greatsword's hilt at his back. A deliberate pause.
Then—
A bloody stomp. The hesitation became a sprint. Thops's Barrier flared to life, a translucent shield. Fire met magic and snuffed itself out. Throne kept moving. The greatsword's tip gouged earth, hurling snow in its wake. He looked up as the ground trembled.
THUD—
The giant loomed, a wall of flesh and flame. Its eyes darted left, right. Two Godskins materialized on the flanks, poised to intercept if he faltered. Normally, Throne would dance around them, whittling them down with speed. But now—
Only I can burn that wood.
Charge.
Golden wings burst from his back. The dragging blade lifted. Second step. The storm answered.
BANG—WHOOSH!
Footsteps like war drums. Wind howled in their wake. Wings beat once, twice. Throne's eyes burned gold. Skin threatened to split.
Mountain Breaker.
The earth split open, a straight-line scar. Golden light peaked. His shoulder—sheathed in glintstone armor—slammed into the giant's disc. Too fast. The Godskins froze.
BOOM!!!!
The impact deafened. Mud and snow vomited skyward. The shockwave sent the rotund Godskin Noble tumbling like a kicked barrel.
When it raised its head—
The mountain had fallen.
The Fire Giant never imagined anything in The Lands Between could challenge its strength. Cracks spiderwebbed across its disc. Its massive frame reeled backward. Thud. One pillar-leg stomped down, arresting the fall.
Proof: Throne's full-force strike couldn't topple it.
But the giant's eyes widened. Its lean had opened a gap in the unbreakable wall. The golden meteor shot through.
His left arm hung useless. Shoulder armor powdered away, exposing glintstone shards and sunken bone. No pain touched his expression.
The mountain collapses. The sword remains sharp.
SWISH—
He lifted the dragging greatsword and, using his forward momentum, slid beneath the giant's feet.
The Fire Giant twisted its massive frame, and pain lanced through its left leg. That leg—severed by Godfrey long ago—had never fully healed. For centuries, it had relied on a crude splint fashioned from beast bone. Throne's sword had sliced clean through that support. Now, as the giant shifted its weight, the leg buckled.
CRACK.
The sound was sharp, final. The broken limb couldn't bear the colossal mass. The lower leg twisted grotesquely, and the mountain of flesh collapsed. Throne heard the rumble behind him. He dug his heels into the ground, forcing himself to slow and turn. The Fire Giant lay sprawled, a fallen titan.
The chance to kill it was there, but Throne knew better. This wasn't the end—it was the beginning. The Fell God of Flame demanded sacrifice. Limbs offered in exchange for power.
"He can't be allowed to finish it."
Two Godskins surged forward, blocking Throne's path. Even as enemies, they had to protect the giant.
They were wrong. The Fire Giant swiped at them with a massive palm, forcing the Godskins to dodge forward. Are you insane? Can't you see we're covering you? The giant wasn't mad. It pressed its hand against the shattered leg, preparing to tear it off as an offering to its god. Greater power awaited—but Throne moved.
He didn't charge the giant. Instead, he carved an 'L' shaped path, abandoning the kill entirely. He sprinted toward the Forge without a backward glance. The Godskins were stunned. After landing a devastating blow, after the killing intent had crystallized, he just walked away? Was the severed arm wasted?
Throne owed no explanations. He seized the moment of confusion, weaving past the battlefield. His toes tapped lightly on the cold iron chains as he climbed the slope. He drank from a flask of crimson tears and muttered a healing incantation. A machine of purpose, unshaken by chaos, he moved toward his goal.
Golden light flickered. The bleeding stopped. Muscles and bones knit themselves back together. With a final tap of his toes, he landed lightly on the edge of the Forge of the Giants. He tossed the empty flask into the sea of clouds. Ahead, the Godskin Apostle stood guard, a black-flame greatsword in hand.
Throne ignored him. His eyes locked on Melina, suspended in mid-air by a curved arc. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly as he approached. He swung the Dark Moon Greatsword, sparks trailing along the Forge's edge.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting."
Above the clouds, the Giant's cauldron loomed. The Godskin Apostle inhaled sharply, his focus wavering as he stared at Throne. He had planned for every contingency, every worst-case scenario. Fire Monks, the Guardians' Garrison, the Fire Giant, even four Godskins—none of it had stopped him. The man had fought his way through an impenetrable defense.
"You're a perfect prey," the Apostle murmured, drawing the Godslayers Greatsword. Black flames danced along the blade. He glanced at the Fire Giant, still clutching its broken leg. The seal kept it from approaching the Forge, leaving it unsure whether to complete the sacrifice.
"But you're also at the end of your rope."
His gaze returned to Throne, whose side was caved in, battered but unbroken. The earth-shattering impact lingered in his mind—unthinkable, devastating, and costly.
"Enough talk."
Throne despised idle chatter. His eyes swept the surroundings. The Forge's edge stretched three meters wide, a precarious line between the churning sea of clouds and the remnants of ash-smothered fire.
The fire burned dim now, a thin layer clinging to the Forge's base, yet its heat remained infernal, capable of consuming the world. When the Forge boiled over, the life teetering on its edge would ignite with it. No room for evasion, no space to maneuver—just the arc of the furnace's rim, the Godskin Apostle blocking the path, and the kindling maiden behind him.
"Will you hand Melina over, or do I kill you and take her?"
Crimson sparks drifted lazily through the air. Above, a vast full moon hung in the sky, and in the distance, the Erdtree glowed resplendent. The scene was breathtaking, but the biting wind carried a cold, lethal intent.
The Godskin Apostle tightened his grip on his sword, the black flames surging hotter.
"I told you, this is a hunt."
"Understood."
Throne's nod was calm. When he lifted his head, his eyes burned crimson-gold, unleashing the killing intent he'd suppressed since leaving Sellen's side.
"I'm going to... slaughter you."
The words hadn't faded before he vanished.
The battlefield offered no room for maneuver. The Godskin Apostle raised his sword and slashed down. Death-Inducing Black Flame erupted, its soul-rending intensity far beyond that of an ordinary Godskin. Throne's options were few: retreat, leap into the Forge, or plummet into the sea of clouds. He chose none.
Starlight flickered. He reappeared in the air above the furnace's edge, his form vanishing and reappearing in rapid succession, dodging the black fireballs hurled his way. The sky was sliced by arcs of black flame.
Seconds later, a sphere of brilliant light erupted in the night sky, its radiance turning the area into daylight. Trying to save her first? The Godskin Apostle narrowed his eyes and stepped back. As he turned to glance at Melina, a realization struck him. No, the killing intent is still locked on me.
Time seemed to freeze.
He didn't have time to turn back. Instead, he drove his greatsword into the ground beneath him. Black Flame Ritual. Flames erupted in a ring, consuming everything in their path. Then, the knight burst through the flames, his greatsword arcing down in a devastating swing.
CLANG!! The force drove the Godskin Apostle to his knees.
He looked up at Throne, now shrouded in black embers, unable to comprehend. How... is this possible? This was the remnant of Destined Death, lethal to all life. Even a single touch, though not fatal, would leave one writhing in agony. Yet this man had charged straight through it. Before he could process it, Throne's knee shot upward.
The Godskin blocked it with a palm, but Throne released his sword, lunged forward, and drove his forehead into the Apostle's face. BANG! Pain exploded in his skull, and they both staggered back. Throne spun, letting the thrusting greatsword graze past his head, and delivered a roundhouse kick with precision.
BANG!! The impact was deafening.
The Godskin stumbled back several steps, swinging his greatsword in a sweeping arc. Black Flame Sweep!