The battle was no longer just a war against the dead it had evolved into something much more dangerous. Kael's sharp eyes narrowed as the two Titans loomed over the battlefield. They had remained outside the city's walls, but their presence was no less threatening. Their raw, primal power surged through the air, and every step they took shook the ground beneath them. The air was thick with tension, their magic brewing like a storm waiting to explode.
Kael planted his staff into the earth, his usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristic grim determination. His voice rang out across the chaos, cutting through the noise.
"Luken, focus on the dead around us," he ordered, his tone sharper than usual. "We need space to deal with these two!"
Luken hesitated, his dark gaze flickering with uncertainty. His powers were not something he wielded lightly, especially with the strain it put on him. But as the undead surged forward, encroaching on their position, he knew Kael was right. There was no time for doubt. He nodded curtly, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. His hand went to his staff, gripping it tightly.
A faint glow began to emanate from one of Luken's eyes, and before he could fully focus, the change started to take hold. His vision shifted, the right eye transforming into something darker, more primal like the Kruul's. His dark, raven like hair shifted and twisted as a horn began to sprout from his temple. A primal roar built in his chest as the transformation completed, and a wave of energy washed over him.
With a fierce cry, Luken raised his hand, unleashing a firestorm. Flames erupted from the sky in a roaring tempest, consuming the surrounding undead. The dead were turned to ash in an instant as the inferno spread outward, burning through the masses. Luken's body crackled with energy, his mind racing as he controlled the flames, trying to keep the dead at bay.
Meanwhile, Kael and Nyra turned their attention back to the Titans. Kael gripped his staff with both hands, preparing for the physical assault that was about to come. He couldn't rely on magic he never had but he had learned to use his staff as a weapon just as deadly as any blade. Nyra, her axe gripped tightly in her hands, stood beside him, ready for the fight. Together, they were going to take the Titans down or at least slow them long enough to prevent the city from falling.
The two Titans, still towering over them, were unfazed by the firestorm ravaging the battlefield. But Nyra and Kael were not deterred. They moved like one, Nyra stepping forward with a battle cry as Kael followed in her wake, striking at the Titans' massive legs. Kael's staff slammed into the Titan's shin with a deafening crack, the sound of stone and magic reverberating through the air.
Nyra swung her axe with brutal precision, the blade cutting into the thick, armoured skin of the Titan's legs. The blow struck deep, forcing one of the Titans to stagger, its massive form wavering as if it were on the verge of collapsing.
Kael, watching the creature falter, barked an order, "Keep going! We need to bring them down!"
Nyra didn't need to be told twice. With a roar, she lunged forward, landing another powerful strike. The Titan groaned, its massive body slowly beginning to kneel, unable to maintain its balance under the pressure of their combined assault.
Meanwhile, Luken's firestorm raged on, his magic carving through the battlefield. He didn't look back he couldn't afford to. The dead were relentless, but with each wave of flames, they were reduced to ash, buying them precious moments to focus on the Titans.
Kael and Nyra didn't let up. Every strike, every blow, was calculated to weaken the Titans, forcing them to the ground. The city's survival rested on their ability to take these massive creatures down.
As the first Titan's knee hit the earth with a deafening thud, Kael grinned grimly. They were making progress but the battle was far from over.
Kael's eyes locked onto the Titan's vulnerable form as he saw an opening. Without hesitation, he sprang into the air, his body flipping effortlessly as he descended onto the Titan's back. His staff extended before him like a spear, and in one powerful motion, Kael slammed it into the Titan's skull. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through its massive head, but the Titan's resilience wasn't so easily shattered.
Kael's foot came down next, grinding into the creature's craggy skull, forcing it deeper into the ground. He could feel the resistance of its rocky skin, but he kept his pressure constant, pushing harder until he felt the Titan's head finally give way. With one last push, its skull cracked open like a rotten fruit, the once menacing Titan falling silent beneath him.
But before Kael could catch his breath, his gaze was drawn to the other Titan, which was already preparing to unleash another magical beam a destructive blast that would rip through the city. Kael's heart raced the beam's intensity could level the entire city. He surged forward, but he knew he wouldn't make it in time.
Then, a primal roar split the air.
Kael looked up just in time to see Nyra, the silver gleam of her hair catching the moonlight as she catapulted herself toward the second Titan. She moved with a speed and grace that Kael had never seen from her before her body flowing like liquid, her muscles coiled with purpose. She landed on the Titan's flesh with an explosive thud, her axe gripped tightly in her hands. Without hesitation, she began to climb, using the beast's massive form as a makeshift ladder.
Nyra's strength and determination were on full display as she scaled the Titan's uneven, pockmarked skin. Her axe cleaved through its flesh, each strike sending shockwaves through the Titan's body. With a battle cry, she finally reached its shoulders, hacking at its thick neck with unrelenting fury. The Titan roared in pain, its limbs flailing as it tried to dislodge her. But Nyra, undeterred, continued her assault.
"Die!" she screamed, each blow striking harder, faster, with more ferocity.
Kael stood in awe, momentarily frozen as he watched her. It wasn't just her strength it was her spirit. Nyra fought with the savagery of a born warrior, and for a fleeting moment, Kael couldn't help but think back to Thal's teachings. Nyra's precision, her relentless drive it was as if Thal had moulded her like a Nephilim, the same discipline and brutal efficiency that had made Thal legendary.
Nyra's axe finally found its mark, severing the Titan's neck with a deafening crack. Its head dropped, the beast's lifeless body crumbling to the ground beneath her.
Kael, snapping back to reality, couldn't suppress a proud grin. Thal had done well by her.
With both Titans now down, Kael turned his focus back to the battlefield, knowing that even with the Titans slain, the city was far from safe. But for now, he couldn't help but acknowledge the raw power Nyra had just displayed. It had been her that had saved them this time, and Kael couldn't deny the immense respect he now held for her.
As the Titan's colossal form crumbled beneath Nyra's feet, the adrenaline that had fueled her intense climb began to drain from her body. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her grip on her axe faltering. The world around her blurred, and the moonlit sky above seemed to spin. Her limbs felt like they were made of stone as exhaustion set in.
Just as her legs gave way and she began to fall, she saw the Harbinger a dark, towering silhouette on the battlefield looming ominously in the distance. It stood there, its massive form still alive and twisting, its cruel eyes fixed on the chaos around it. A sense of dread gnawed at Nyra's gut. But before she could fully process it, her body gave in.
She began to tumble, her vision fading into darkness, but just as the ground rushed up to meet her, strong arms caught her mid air. Kael's grip was steady, his voice cutting through her dazed thoughts.
"We ain't done yet," Kael said, his tone firm yet laced with an underlying warmth.
Nyra blinked, trying to focus, her head still spinning. She felt the cool night air, the sweat from her brow, and Kael's presence beside her. She could feel the tremor of his strength, his determination, but more importantly, the bond between them that held her steady.
Her vision slowly cleared as she regained her bearings, her heart pounding with both exhaustion and the overwhelming weight of the battle still ahead. She could hear the distant cries of combat, the clash of steel, the growl of beasts everything calling her back to the fight.
Thal's figure suddenly caught her eye, moving with grace and power beyond human comprehension. He was tearing through the Harbinger's massive arm with his bare hands and feet, his movements fluid, like a predator toying with its prey. Every strike from Thal was a calculated, brutal force that ripped the Harbinger apart. The battle was far from over, but seeing Thal in action filled Nyra with a renewed sense of purpose.
"Thal…" she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible.
Kael, still holding her securely, nodded. "Yeah, we've got work to do. But you're not alone, Nyra. We've got this."
With a steadying breath, Nyra pushed herself up slightly, her muscles aching from the effort but still burning with an unyielding desire to fight. The city, their home, was not lost yet. Not while they still stood.
Kael, noticing her renewed resolve, helped her to her feet, the two of them moving together toward the ongoing battle. The weight of the war hung heavy, but in this moment, with their warriors still fighting alongside them, Kael and Nyra knew they would not let the darkness win.
"Let's finish this," Kael said, his voice a low, determined growl.
Together, they ran into the chaos once again.
Thal's hands were stained with the Harbinger's ichor, the raw power of his blows ripping through its massive arm like tearing through cloth. His muscles burned, but the relentless surge of adrenaline kept him moving. As he tore the arm from its grotesque form, the ground beneath him trembled, a rumble that reverberated through his very bones.
Then, from the wreckage, another arm no less massive than the first rose from the ground with a sickening groan. It pushed against the dirt and stone, lifting the Harbinger's colossal body. The sound was a deep, echoing screech, like the cracking of an ancient, cursed tree. The monstrosity was forcing itself up, defying Thal's assault, its massive form slowly rising back to its full height. The creature's hollow eyes, burning with an unnatural light, locked onto Thal, its mouth twitching into a grotesque, toothy grin.
Thal's gaze never wavered. The beast was only a shell, a thing of nightmare a twisted mockery of magic and flesh but it was still dangerous. He could feel the pulse of its dark energy surging from its broken form, gathering once again.
Then, rising from the crumbled ruins in front of him, the Harbinger's head slowly emerged a hideous mass of flesh, teeth, and eyes that seemed to distort with every moment. Its face was a maddening blur of features, constantly shifting between human like and monstrous, a grotesque patchwork of madness. The mouth opened wide, far too wide, as if it could consume the entire city in a single bite.
Thal's heart beat in his chest with a mixture of fury and strategy. He wasn't going to let this creature rise again. He'd seen the power it could unleash the destructive magic that tore through the city and threatened to undo everything. But now, with its head exposed and its limbs rising like the aftermath of some terrible nightmare, Thal knew that this was the moment. He had to finish this. He couldn't let it get back to full strength.
The wind howled around him, the faint cry of distant warriors filling his ears. The city was still alive with the fury of battle, but his focus was entirely on the Harbinger. Every inch of the creature, from the reemerging arms to the massive, writhing head, was a target a weakness waiting to be exploited.
With one final, savage roar, Thal launched himself forward, his body a blur of motion. Every step was a strike, every strike a testament to his will. He had faced titans before beasts larger and more ferocious than this one. And he would face this one now.
As the Harbinger's head loomed overhead, Thal's fingers curled into fists, prepared to strike at the heart of this nightmare. The battle wasn't over. Not yet.
The Harbinger's head tilted back, its twisted grin widening impossibly as it let out an ear piercing scream that reverberated through the very fabric of the battlefield. The sound seemed to tear at the air itself, rattling the bones of those who heard it, a primal and unholy call that made the ground shake beneath their feet.
And then, from the gaping maw of the creature, an overwhelming surge of miasma erupted a dense, viscous sludge that poured forth like a tidal wave of decay. The air thickened with a foul, suffocating stench as the sludge spread rapidly across the battlefield, oozing outward and blanketing everything in its path.
Kael, Nyra, Luken, and the Kruu'Vesp and Kruu'Strata fighters were immediately caught in the toxic onslaught. The sludge clung to them, clouding their vision and numbing their senses. The Kruu'Vesp struggled to keep their wings steady as the miasma choked their movements, while the Kruu'Strata warriors were forced to stagger back, unable to fight in the thick, suffocating haze. The dead, too, were infected by the miasma, their already twisted forms becoming even more monstrous as the sludge seemed to animate them further, turning them into grotesque, slavering creatures.
Luken gritted his teeth, feeling the pull of the sludge's power the magic of the Harbinger seeping into his body, attempting to warp his very essence. He could feel his strength weakening, his vision blurring. His one good eye flickered with a faint glow as he struggled to push the miasma back, but it was like fighting against a tide. His magic, no matter how much he reached for it, felt dampened and sluggish. He had to fight it. He couldn't let it consume him.
Nyra coughed, her silver hair matted against her face with the dampness of the sludge. She gripped her axe tightly, her body feeling heavy as the miasma tried to seep into her very bones. She could feel the anger rising within her anger not just at the Harbinger, but at the helplessness of the situation. She could barely see, but she refused to fall. Not here. Not now.
Kael, too, was struggling, his usual smirk absent as the foul air pressed in around him. He planted his staff into the ground, using its weight to anchor himself, but it wasn't enough. The sludge was creeping up his legs, attempting to drag him down into its grip. The taste of decay was all around him, and even his normally unflappable confidence began to falter. This wasn't just magic. This was corruption itself. He couldn't let it win.
But Thal… Thal was different.
The miasma surged around him, but it couldn't touch him. He stood firm, his feet planted as the toxic sludge recoiled from his body, not even daring to approach him. Thal's body, his very essence, seemed to reject the corruption, the foulness of the Harbinger's power. The air around him shimmered with an unspoken energy, a presence of pure will and defiance that repelled the very magic attempting to drag everyone down.
Thal's eyes narrowed as the sludge swirled around him, a storm of corruption that seemed to hang in the air, waiting for him to make the next move. He was unaffected, his strength unyielding against the dark force the Harbinger had unleashed.
With a deep breath, Thal raised his hands his bare, calloused hands and set his gaze upon the Harbinger once more. This was the moment. This was the point of no return.
He wasn't just fighting the Harbinger. He was fighting the darkness itself. And he would not lose.
Kael's eyes locked onto Thal, his brow furrowing as he watched the massive wave of miasma roll toward him. The sludge filled the air, choking the life out of everything in its path yet Thal stood there, unaffected.
He wasn't flinching. He wasn't gasping for air. The sludge didn't seem to touch him, let alone slow him down. It was as if the very magic of the Harbinger, the force that had brought this battlefield to its knees, was simply unable to reach him.
Kael's pulse quickened, a rare feeling of unease creeping up on him. He'd seen many things in his life mages with power, creatures of the dark, even dragons who twisted the fabric of reality itself but this... this was different. Thal, a Nephilim he should have been affected. Magic, of any kind, should have been a threat to him. It wasn't just Thal's presence that left Kael uneasy, it was the fact that he was standing there, perfectly still, while everyone else was struggling.
Kael's mind raced, spinning through countless possibilities. Could this be something more than Nephilim strength? Could Thal's true power extend beyond even what he had shown him? Or worse was there something Kael didn't know about Thal, something that could explain this unnatural immunity to the Harbinger's magic?
The thought gnawed at him. No mortal, no Nephilim, should be immune to magic. That was the law of the world. Magic was the fabric that held everything together, the force that shaped existence itself. And now, here stood Thal, unscathed, as if magic simply bounced off him.
Kael's grip tightened on his staff. It wasn't just worry that gripped him now it was a sinking feeling that something much larger, much darker, was at play. Something that, if left unchecked, could unravel everything.
But there was no time to ponder it now. Kael forced his focus back to the battlefield, to the task at hand. The Harbinger's twisted grin still loomed in the distance, the corrupted magic of the world crashing down upon them. They had to win this fight first, before any of the questions could be answered.
Still, as he turned his gaze back to Thal, Kael couldn't shake the feeling that what he was witnessing Thal's immunity, his calm was just the beginning of something far more dangerous.
As Kael stood there, mind racing with thoughts about Thal's unnatural resistance to magic, his eyes flicked back to the battlefield. Thal was in the thick of it, his hands tearing through the Harbinger's arm as if it were little more than brittle bark. The creature's face twisted in agony as it tried to retaliate, but Thal, relentless and unfazed, continued his assault. Each movement seemed like a dance of destruction precise, brutal, unstoppable.
Yet, as much as Thal's power was on display, something still gnawed at Kael. The battlefield around them was becoming more chaotic by the second. The dead were rising faster than they could be slain, the sheer weight of their numbers overwhelming the defenders. No matter how many of them the Kruu'Vesp and Kruu'Strata cut down, more filled the gaps. The dead weren't just endless they were relentless. Every fallen soldier, every dead beastkin, every crumpled body was rising again, reanimated by the magic of the Harbinger.
Kael's mind shifted back to the immediate danger. The Harbinger was still trying to push itself up, but with Thal's continued assault on its arms, the beast was struggling to regain its footing. Still, it wasn't enough. No matter how hard they fought, they couldn't kill the dead couldn't stop the rising tide of bodies that seemed to pour from the very earth itself.
Kael grit his teeth, narrowing his focus. This couldn't go on. Even if they brought the Harbinger down, they still had a tide of dead to face, and that… that was the real problem. Without a way to stop the resurrection of the fallen, the battle would never end. The dead would keep coming, and soon, the city itself would be overwhelmed.
He shot a glance at Luken, his mind working quickly to form a plan. The hybrid mage's powers were immense, but could he they hold off this onslaught for long enough? The only way to break this cycle was to destroy the source, the magic fueling the rebirth of the dead. But that was easier said than done.
Kael snapped his focus back to Thal. He was relentless, but even Thal couldn't hold the line forever.
"Thal!" Kael shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle. "We need to stop the dead from rising! Focus on the source if we don't take down whatever's bringing them back, all of this is for nothing!"
Thal didn't respond immediately, his focus solely on dismantling the Harbinger, but Kael could see the faintest recognition in his eyes. Thal knew. He had to.
The Harbinger was crumbling under Thal's onslaught, but the real battle was far from over. It was time to shift tactics. Time to end this.
With one last forceful wrench, Thal tore the last remaining arm of the Harbinger clean off, sending the creature crashing to the ground. But even as the titan's body fell, the ground beneath them trembled, and Kael could feel the weight of the endless rising tide of dead pressing ever closer.
Their time was running out.
As Thal ripped the Harbinger's arm off with brutal force, the ground trembled beneath him. The severed limb, heavy and massive, swung like a battering ram, smashing into the Harbinger's grotesque face, cracking its skull open. With a single powerful thrust, Thal plunged his body into the gaping wound, diving headfirst into the writhing mass of miasma and sludge that poured from the creature's open head like blackened bile.
The world around him was a blur a mix of bone, rotten flesh, and the pervasive, choking fog of the Harbinger's magic. The air grew thick, suffocating, but Thal didn't hesitate. He pushed deeper into the creature's innards, his hands tearing through whatever was left of its twisted form. His body moved with purpose, each motion an instinctive pull toward its core the very heart of the Harbinger's dark power. The source of the magic that was raising the dead. That was his focus now.
Outside, the battle raged on. Kael, Nyra, Luken, and the others were still fighting to hold the line, but Thal knew this moment was crucial. He had to end it now.
Inside the creature's head, the air grew heavier, and the tendrils of black magic began to lash out, trying to slow him, stop him. But Thal's will was like iron. He powered through the resistance, his fists striking the very heart of the beast with terrifying precision, his movements fluid yet relentless, as if he was a part of the very magic that sought to break him.
Suddenly, he found it an unnatural core, pulsating with dark energy, hidden deep within the Harbinger's skull. The magic that sustained the undead army. With one final, violent strike, he shattered it, the explosion of dark power reverberating through the ground, shaking the city and knocking back anything within its range. For a heartbeat, an eerie silence fell—only the soft crumble of stone, the distant fall of rubble, and the sharp gasps of survivors filled the air, as though the battlefield itself was holding its breath.
For a moment, there was silence.
The battlefield seemed to pause as the residual magic ebbed away, and the dead those still on their feet paused in place, as though waiting for the next command. But the energy that had held them in its thrall was gone, severed by Thal's strike.
Thal emerged from the wreckage of the Harbinger's skull, covered in miasma and gore, his face determined but tired. He breathed deeply, steadying himself for what was to come next. The battle was far from over, but a crucial part of it had shifted. The dead would not rise again not with the source of their rebirth destroyed.
Kael, Nyra, and Luken could see the momentary lull in the battle and, without hesitation, rallied the remaining forces. They'd won a major victory, but there was still much to be done.
As the last echoes of battle faded and the dust of destruction settled, Thal stood amidst the devastation. His chest heaved with each breath, his body a canvas of wounds and exhaustion. The battlefield, once full of chaos, now lay still quiet, save for the distant cries of the wounded and the whispers of the survivors rallying. Among them, a young Kruu'Vesp knelt beside a fallen comrade, wings trembling as it murmured a farewell, while a wounded soldier limped past, clutching a bloodied arm — small, haunting reminders of the cost of their victory.
In that stillness however, something shifted in the air. Thal's gaze, though tired, sharpened. Out of the corner of his eye, across the desolate expanse, he saw her... Zara.
She stood far in the distance, amidst the ruins, as though the remnants of the city itself bowed around her. Her emerald eyes, glowing with an unnatural vibrance, locked with his. It felt as though time itself had slowed. Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile a smile full of secrets, of histories untold. It was a smile that sent a chill down his spine, a mixture of dread and something deeper, older.
For a heartbeat, everything else faded. The sounds of the world, the struggle of his comrades, even the very air around him seemed to disappear, and all that remained was Zara, standing before him.
Then, just as suddenly as she appeared, she was gone.
In a brilliant cascade of emerald light, like shattered glass, she vanished her form dissolving into sparkling crystals that danced on the wind, leaving behind only the emptiness of the battlefield.
Thal's heart raced, his mind struggling to grasp what he had just witnessed. Was it a vision? A trick of his exhausted mind, brought on by the toll of battle? Or was it something more? Something he had not yet understood?
He stood there, frozen for a moment longer, staring at the spot where she had been, waiting for any sign, any clue. But there was nothing. Just the remnants of the war, and the weight of questions that would remain unanswered at least for now.
"Thal?" Kael's voice cut through the quiet. He turned to see his friend, approaching, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes. Concern? Curiosity?
But Thal said nothing. His gaze lingered on the spot where Zara had disappeared, his mind swirling with thoughts he didn't yet know how to voice.
For now, the battle was over. But something had changed. And he felt it deep within an unsettling realization that the true war, the one that truly mattered, was far from finished.