The battlefield trembled beneath Asael and his companions as they steeled themselves for the final strike.

  The weight of their mission pressed upon their shoulders, and for a brief moment, the world held its breath.

  Then, the vines attacked.

  They came from every direction, writhing like a storm of serpents, their jagged thorns glistening with venom.

  The air was thick with the scent of crushed foliage and something darker, something rancid.

  The sound of tearing earth and whipping tendrils filled their ears, a cacophony of nature twisted into a weapon.

  Anne barely managed to twist out of the way as a vine lunged toward her chest, its tip narrowly missing her heart.

  Lily spun mid-air, her daggers flashing as she severed tendrils with precise, wind-infused slashes.

  Sirius, eyes narrowed, raised a hand and froze several of the monstrous limbs solid, shattering them with a flick of his wrist—only to watch in horror as the pieces slithered together and reformed.

  They fought with everything they had, but the vines never ceased.

  For what felt like an eternity, they battled an enemy that refused to die, each attack swallowed by the endless tide of writhing green.

  Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their limbs heavy with exhaustion.

  Then, suddenly—

  The vines stopped.

  The battlefield fell into an eerie silence, the kind that made the skin crawl.

  A dreadful weight pressed upon them, thick and suffocating. The worst had yet to come.

  A deep crimson glow ignited beneath Tores' feet, spilling outward like veins of molten fire.

  The earth trembled, cracks forming as an immense, intricate magic circle took shape—a forbidden ritual pulsing with unspeakable power.

  Blood dripped freely from Tores’ palms, dark and thick, staining the runes with his very life essence.

  His hollow eyes burned with a ghostly light, the remnants of the man he once was lost beneath the power surging through him.

  Asael's heart lurched. They had to stop him. Now.

  "Stop him!" he roared, hurling his weapons forward with all his strength.

  Steven followed an instant later, unleashing a blinding storm of lightning.

  Sirius summoned spear-like shards of ice, each one sharper than the last, and Lily let loose a storm of razor-sharp wind blades.

  None of it reached him.

  The vines surged upward, forming a colossal cocoon around Tores.

  Their attacks struck the surface but left not a single mark.

  It was as if nature itself was protecting him, shielding him from death’s grasp.

  Then, the cocoon twisted, its shape shifting into something monstrous.

  A massive tree-like beast emerged, its limbs thick as castle walls, its gnarled face twisted into a grotesque semblance of life.

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  Hollow eyes burned with malice, seething with hatred as they locked onto the intruders.

  Its roots tore through the battlefield like living tentacles, each one eager to crush, to strangle, to destroy.

  A thunderous roar erupted from its maw, shaking the very heavens.

  It was not just a sound. It was a war cry.

  A declaration of vengeance.

  With a deafening crash, the beast slammed its massive limb into the ground.

  The earth ruptured, sending violent shockwaves outward.

  Asael and the others were thrown from their feet, tumbling through the air like ragdolls.

  Vines lashed out in a frenzy, slicing through the battlefield with deadly precision.

  Asael barely ducked in time to avoid one that would have torn his throat open.

  Steven cried out as he was flung backward, blood spraying from a deep gash across his side.

  Sirius and Anne struggled to maintain their footing, their magic barely holding back the onslaught.

  Lily let out a sharp gasp of pain as a vine slashed across her arm, tearing through her flesh like paper.

  Every strike they landed, every ounce of effort they poured into the fight, it was all for nothing.

  The monster healed instantly, an unstoppable force looming over them.

  “This isn’t working!” Sirius shouted, his voice raw with frustration. “We need a way past it!”

  But there was no way through.

  And then—a voice cut through the chaos.

  “Go forward. I will handle this.”

  Asael turned sharply, his breath catching in his throat.

  Magnum stood still amidst the destruction, his expression calm, his eyes locked onto the monstrous beast.

  The air around him shifted, growing still, charged with something beyond magic—something ancient.

  Then, his feet lifted off the ground.

  A green ethereal glow surrounded his body, spiraling upward in delicate yet powerful tendrils of energy.

  The air thickened with the whispers of unseen spirits, voices carrying an old, forgotten tongue.

  Lily’s eyes widened in horror. She knew what he was doing.

  “No! Brother, stop!” she screamed, reaching for him, but an invisible force held her back.

  Elves had the power to call upon spirits, but only the strongest among them could borrow the power of a Spirit King.

  Magnum wasn’t strong enough.

  If he did this, he would die.

  But he didn’t waver.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself.” His voice was steady, resolute.

  The wind roared to life, lifting Asael and the others off the ground, carrying them away from the battlefield.

  Magnum smiled then, a small, sad smile.

  The vines lurched forward, aiming for the retreating group—

  But Magnum raised his hand.

  And the sky split open.

  ---

  A violent explosion of wind erupted across the battlefield.

  The heavens roared, lightning crackling, storms raging, as if the very fabric of the world trembled at the power being unleashed.

  Tores' beast let out a furious bellow, its massive limbs lashing out in fury. But Magnum did not move.

  He stretched out his hand.

  And from the heart of the storm, a colossal figure emerged.

  A Spirit King.

  The Guardian of the Forest.

  Its form was vast, ancient, woven from the very essence of nature itself.

  Its eyes burned with divine wrath, locking onto the monstrous tree with an intensity that sent a shiver down the spine.

  Magnum floated between them, his life force already flickering like a candle in the wind. Yet his voice remained steady.

  “Now, Tores…” He raised his hand, his strength fading, but his resolve unshaken.

  “It’s just you and me.”

  ----

  The storm raged behind them, wind howling like the anguished cries of fallen warriors, but Asael and his companions pressed forward.

  Each step was heavy with purpose.

  Magnum’s sacrifice would not be in vain.

  Before them, the castle loomed—a blackened husk of its former glory.

  Once, it had been a beacon of power, where kings ruled and heroes feasted.

  Now, it stood twisted and grotesque, its walls cracked like the veins of a dying beast, suffocated by a swirling mist of darkness.

  It was no longer a kingdom’s heart.

  It was a graveyard.

  Sirius halted just before the ruined gates, his breath uneven.

  This place—his home—was nothing but an echo now, a hollow shell filled only with the whispers of those who had perished.

  He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.

  He had been raised here. Laughed here. Dreamed here.

  Now, it belonged to the abyss.

  His jaw tightened as he turned to the others. His voice was steady, though the weight in his chest threatened to break him.

  “No hesitation. No fear.”

  His eyes burned with the fire of a man who had nothing left to lose.

  “We finish this now.”

  They nodded. No words were needed. Only action.

  Asael rose into the sky, his golden weapons humming with divine energy.

  Blades, spears, and arrows hovered around him like a celestial storm, ready to be unleashed upon the cursed land below.

  Sirius lifted his staff, summoning a colossal fireball.

  It pulsed with scorching heat, turning the air around it into a shimmering haze.

  Steven gripped his sword, arcs of raw lightning dancing across the blade, crackling with power.

  And then, as one—

  They struck.

  Thunder roared. Fire spiraled. Golden weapons rained from the heavens.

  The castle trembled beneath the assault, stone towers collapsing in an avalanche of rubble and flame.

  Ancient banners, once bearing the crest of the kingdom, ignited in a blaze, reduced to ash in the wind.

  And then the earth beneath them shuddered—deep, violent, as if the land itself was in agony.

  A sound rose from within the ruins.

  A growl.

  Low. Terrifying.

  The kind of sound that reached deep into the soul and wrapped around the heart like a vice.

  A shadow stirred in the smoke.

  And then, an explosion of force—

  Amidst the falling debris, a figure emerged.

  Towering.

  Unbroken.

  The air thickened, suffocating with a pressure so immense that even the raging storm seemed to recoil in fear.

  The Demon King stood before them.

  His crimson eyes blazed like dying stars, filled with an unfathomable hatred.

  His presence alone stole the breath from their lungs.

  The silence that followed was worse than the destruction.

  And then, in a voice heavy with vengeance, he spoke.

  “You wretched humans…”

  The darkness around him pulsed.

  His body twisted, bones snapping, flesh warping in unnatural ways.

  His very essence screamed as it reshaped itself.

  And then—

  He was no longer a man.

  A monstrous form towered over them, six massive arms coiled with muscle, dark veins pulsing with unnatural energy.

  Black horns curled like the crown of a forgotten god, their tips dripping with the remnants of corruption.

  His claws, each the length of a sword, gleamed like obsidian daggers, and his mouth stretched into a wicked grin, exposing rows of jagged fangs.

  He took a single step forward. The ground beneath him shattered.

  His voice, deeper than thunder, rolled through the battlefield like an unholy proclamation.

  “Come at me.”

  Asael’s grip tightened on his weapons. His heartbeat was loud in his ears.

  But he felt no fear.

  Only resolve.

  He turned to his comrades, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them.

  “Everyone, get ready.”

  And without another word—

  They charged.