319. The Gauntlet (IV)

This fellow was so pale it was like he'd never seen the sun. Hairless, with beady red eyes, sunken cheeks.

But what drew Zane's attention was his aura.

It smoldered in the astral plane, casting a billowing shadow whose bleak fingers reached halfway across the cage. Some strange power ran dense through the Prince's veins, tinging them void-black. Some nasty Bloodline Zane had felt in Monster Lords before, or even Monster Knights. But it so dense in this beast it was hard to compare—here it was a physical, sluggish thing.

His Monstrous Bone showed strongest in his claws.

The Prince was a spindly Monster. Zane couldn't imagine there was much strength in those limbs. He looked built for speed.

If the Sage was right, he could go quite fast indeed…

He would be the strongest thing Zane fought to date. A bird.

Zane frowned at the fellow, wondering.

He would need a plan. Or else this could go rather badly, he felt. He'd fought these birds enough times to know.

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤? The Monster Prince hissed.

The Barbarian Sage just ignored it.

"Right!" he said cheerfully, patting Zane on the shoulder. "It'll be a tricky one. Give 'em hell."

Zane nodded.

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕞𝕖. The fellow twitched. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤—𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕒𝕗? 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕖, 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕟?

"She said the same thing!" chuckled the Sage. He ambled away. In seconds, the cage slammed shut.

***

Then it was just Zane face to face with the Monster Prince.

𝕍𝕒𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕤 (𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖)

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟝𝟙𝟞

The Level difference was only a half-realm of Levels away. But the feeling of threat Zane got from him was unlike anything he'd felt.

The Prince inspected him flatly. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙, 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟?

"No," said Zane honestly.

This only seemed to tick the fellow off more.

𝕄𝕪 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕍𝕒𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕤, he breathed. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖. ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕫𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕙. ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖!

As he spoke shadows crept heavy around him, rising from the ground like smoke. His voice doubled, tripled, echoing deeper.

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕒 ℂ𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖! he hissed. His eyes swirled for a second void-black. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗!

"Oh," said Zane, who was not sure what all that meant. It did sound rather impressive.

…𝔸𝕟 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥. Prince Vadros looked incredulous. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪'𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣. 𝔸 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥.

"Ten seconds!" called the Sage.

Vadros looked Zane up and down. The more he saw, the more amused he seemed. 𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕀 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕒𝕡𝕖? ℍ𝕞𝕞?

Shadows played at the edges of his hands, extending the nails. So fine Zane couldn't feel their edges, not even in the astral plane. Those were strange shadows, smoking at their ends… The very fabric of the realm shrieked around them, as though it were being slowly tortured.

He could tell they would be trouble, just at a glance.

Usually Zane liked to feel his way into a fight—but he looking at those claws, he wasn't sure it was such a great idea.

If Reina were here, he wondered what she'd do. She'd make a plan. Look around at all the options. Get an idea for everything she could use.

So he took it all in—took in the cage too. It really was a cramped little space now that he paid attention. If he meant to catch a bird…

He did have something of an idea, now he thought of it.

There wasn't much time to think on it.

"Three! Two! One!" came the Barbarian Sage's voice.

"Begin!"

It was like some higher power had turned the lights off.

Instantly there was nothing. Not even essence.

Prince Vadros's domain—a realm of smoldering shadow—blew out like the falling of night. And in fractions of a second, it swallowed the entire room…

Another Tier 6 domain.

This one felt claustrophobic. More insidious than the Cobra's, a smothering, shifting, smoldering thing. It killed the last of the light.

And then it started exerting its pressure on Zane.

The only bright spot was Zane's domain. Flared up fierce in an instant—a single sparking force field holding back the night…

He gritted his teeth.

This time, he burned as much essence as he could manage right away. He'd learned from the last time.

Still he had to focus and strain just to keep it off of him. But as those tendrils tried to invade, tried to wipe out the light, they hissed back as though stung.

𝕊𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤, said the Prince. He looked as annoyed as he was amused.

Then his expression twisted. Grew harsh. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. ℙ𝕒𝕪 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀. 𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖…

And Zane felt a Bloodline ignite.

Bulging down its pale flesh, lighting up the veins—a sudden intensity, a void searing down the astral plane—

It was the greatest density of Monstrous Bloodline Zane had ever felt.

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗! Vadros shrieked.

His narrowed those scarlet eyes on Zane, locking on, and he felt a spike of vicious intent.

Those eyes bulged.

Vadros lunged so fast Zane didn't even see it—just its after-image, a whiplash of motion. Zane had been tensed for something, ready. The moment he felt that essence surge, that intent surge, he was already bringing his chains to block, jerking out of the way—

He was surprised to feel a searing pain rip down his right side.

Fresh blood fountained out of him.

Zane had a moment of whiplash.

He barely had time to feel it coming—even Great Sage Mind could only give a flicker of a warning. Then—a blinding mass of raw power, of Bloodline, condensed to a scar so thin, so razor-sharp, moving at obscene speed…

It felt like an axe had hacked deep into him.

He looked down, grunting.

There was a grisly gash streaking down the right side of his chest, cutting so far into muscle it was halfway to the bone.

A corrupt Bloodline smoldered down its length.

It would've hit something vital if he hadn't moved just then…

He couldn't remember the last time a single strike had wounded him so deep. It'd cut faster than he could feel.

Just that one strike would've been enough to slice a normal Minor God in two, he knew.

It was only the heavy-duty tempering—the strength built deep in Zane's body, that stopped the blow…

𝕆𝕙? Vadros frowned at Zane like Zane was an insect that had somehow gotten out from under his boot. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕧𝕖—

Zane roared as though in a blind rage. And leaped to counter.

The pain had jerked him all the way awake.

His Chains walloped the air, bursting with raw explosive might—so much power imbued in each link they rippled the air. A flaming bull-charge of sheer Destruction, ready to crush Vadros to a smear…

Only it never landed.

The Prince simply snorted and flickered out of existence, the way shadows shadows escaped light.

His Chains crashed useless against the walls.

Then Zane staggered, wincing.

Another jagged scar in reality had rammed deep into him—an arc of blinding pain lighting up his back. He whirled, narrowing his eyes…

Vadros tutted. 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝.

Zane threw himself at it again, roaring. This time he tried even harder—as though to catch it just before it vanished.

But again Vadros flickered out of place long before he hit on anything. The Chains clank'd somewhere in the darkness of Vadros' domain. Gone.

And this time, Zane felt pain lance the backs of his legs—he staggered.

𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖, 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕪! giggled Vadros. 𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖!

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘!

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟟𝟝%

He was gushing blood—bad—in just three exchanges.

He growled, turning again.

He saw his enemy flex his fingers, a picture of smug calm. New holes in reality smoldered down their ends, rendered to ultra-fine points… Monstrous Bloodline concentrated at ends. A Bonfire of it. Half the power of its Monstrous Bone, gone to bolster its powers…

Now Zane felt it up-close, even that Bone was a clear step up from anything he'd ever felt.

He knew how tempered his body was.

But when he looked down it looked like someone had taken a butcher's knife to him. That raw firepower…

Even Zane wasn't sure how much of it he could take.

But he knew there was no changing course now.

***

"Call it off," said Viria.

The Barbarian Sage was quiet. Frowning.

They saw Zane lunge—chuck a length of blazing chain with crushing power—a chain that vanished into the gloom, without a trace. Saw him stagger again, grunting under a heavy slice—whirl around, blast out another great arc of light…

But he just couldn't seem to land anything

The Sage saw Zane's jaw tighten every time. Even Zane—with his pain tolerance—was feeling every shot… those shots looked damned bad.

Another slash ripped up Zane's thighs—by then he made a staggering, shambling figure.

His heart was not one bit diminished—you could see it in the cold intent in his eyes, the focus.

But even Zane's body was being slowly butchered.

"Call it off!" said Viria, alarmed.

The Sage shook his head, resolate. "You don't stop believing in your man, just because he's facing some trouble! The lad'll find a way."

He put his hands to his mouth, and roared, "Come on, lad! Don't let that bastard bully you! You take it to 'em!"

***

Zane had fought many kinds of birds before.

He'd picked up a thing or two in that time…

Never one that hit quite this hard, though.

He was breathing heavy—his Asura State was nearing its peak. Every strike he threw roared out with massive firepower—he threw it with all his heart, all his fury…

Only to hit some distant steel. Clank. And peter out, vanishing into the gloom.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥'𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕥, said the Prince, amused again. 𝕀𝕗 𝕚𝕥 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕. 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝 𝕞𝕦𝕥𝕥.

He raised his dainty pale arms, spreading them wide.

ℂ𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕖𝕖? he crowed. 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤! 𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕦𝕡!

He gave Zane another slash, and it was all Zane could do to lurch away, stumbling. Every slash carved a new chunk out of him.

He growled again—lashed again, as though in a blind rage—and yet again his Chain vanished into the gloom… Clank.

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟, 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦? Vadros was getting annoyed now, seemed like.

His annoyance quickly turned darker. Spiked to fury when he saw Zane was still standing. Still glaring back, defiant—

A seething smoke gathered at his fingers.

𝔻𝔸𝕄ℕ𝔼𝔻—He roared and made a massive slash.

Zane lurched—staggered—felt like an axe had hammered straight into his chest. His head swam.

—𝕄𝕌𝕋𝕋!

Another scar lit up Zane's entire torso, And it took a huge force of will just to stay upright…

He groaned.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘!

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟝%

He was burning at his peak then. That was how he could even still move. Locked in a pitched battle—it would be hard for most Minor Gods to resist him then, head-on… only all his power was going to waste.

Burning to nothing.

He lunged again, and again, seeming delirious, wobbling on his feet—like he'd given up on even lighting up his Chains. Clank—clank—

Over and over he stumbled, and took the blows. And over and over his Chains rammed into the walls, and stayed there—forgotten.

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕕. The prince was working up to a proper fury. 𝔸 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤-𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕖!

He gave Zane another vicious slash, and Zane was bleeding from so many gaping wounds you could see more muscle and bone than skin.

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕕—𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝—𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕕!

He Punctuated each slash with a vicious slice.

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪—𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟—𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦!

And every time Zane took it bravely, jaw set. Lunged right back, tried countering, tried throwing anything.

It just wasn't working…

***

"Stop the fight," said Viria.

The Sage was silent.

She grabbed him by the arm—"Stop it—he's killing him!"

As though on cue, Zane took a slash so fierce it buckled his knees.

"I'll jump in myself if I've got to!"

"You'll do no such thing," Summersteel snapped. Then hesitated, looking at a heaving, staggered Zane.

"Jogo…" he said to the Sage, hesitant. "Perhaps—"

"No," said the Sage. He looked a bit stricken—like it physically hurt him to see Zane wrecked like this. When he spoke, his voice was thick. "I still believe in Zane—he'll find a way, godsdamned it!"

***

ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦? Even the Prince was huffing, sweating, winded—just from carving Zane up. 𝕋𝕖𝕟? 𝕃𝕖𝕤𝕤?

By now, he seemed genuinely frustrated that Zane had taken all that punishment and still stood.

But it wouldn't be long now… they could all see it.

The end was coming.

More shadows sharpened along Vadros's fingertips.

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕞 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦, slobbered the Prince. 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖! 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕞𝕦𝕕 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤—𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕥! 𝕊𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕤𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕!

Vadros laughed, nearly hysterical. 𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕖? 𝕀'𝕞 𝕓𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕦𝕞𝕓 𝕞𝕦𝕥𝕥! 𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕖? 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕟𝕠𝕨?

Zane hacked out a lungful of blood, and turn a cold eye on him.

"Yes," said Zane, and lunged again.

The next slice took him to one knee.

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥? said Vadros. Voice hoarse now, but just as mocking. 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤? 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪'𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕤, 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖! 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕕, 𝕗𝕠𝕠𝕝, 𝕀'𝕞 𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣! 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕖—

Zane lashed out a Chain.

Vadros dipped it easily, annoyed. He was just about to fire off another barb when he heard the Clank.

It sounded… surprisingly close…

Come to think of it—why did the Cage feel so much smaller than before?

It was the walls, Vadros realized. They were gone.

Everywhere the Monster Prince looked, he saw only Chain.

Chain, piled on chain, piled on chain. Wrapping the room all over—

Vadros's eyes began to widen.

A sudden coldness gripped his chest.

Surely not…

He whirled around, heart going faster and faster—

Sure enough. That last Chain plugged the final gap.

ℕ𝕠… croaked Vadros.

He turned to the ruined, bleeding man at the center of the cage. A man whose hands just kept lashing all that time—whose chains had kept lengthening, and lengthening, and lengthening…

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥— 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖—𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕝! Vadros spluttered. ℍ𝕠𝕨—𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖—

"You talk too much," growled Zane. His body erupted with essence—a sudden bonfire in the Astral Plane.

The walls exploded with Stormfire.

Vadros shrieked.

At the same time, Zane flexed with all he had left. Let out a roar straight from the depths of his soul.

The walls closed like a tightening noose.