201. Ferocious beast- Flame Lion
The lion's roar shook the ground as it lunged forward, its grey flames licking hungrily at the air. The five warriors braced themselves, their battle-hardened bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Darkhan was the first to charge, his massive fists encased in diamond-spiked gloves formed by his energy. The moment the lion spewed its first wave of grey fire, Darkhan's fists met the flames head-on. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, scattering embers and rock fragments in all directions.
Darkhan's strength was immense, and his law of Earth made him an unmovable force in close combat. He weaved between the lion's snapping jaws and razor-sharp claws, his fists hammering into the beast's thick hide. Each strike sent a tremor through the ground, but the lion was not so easily subdued. It twisted, moving faster than its massive form should have allowed, and raked a flaming claw across Darkhan's side. His diamond armor absorbed most of the force, but he was still forced to stumble back.
The others did not remain idle. Varka, Keshna, and Jorak ascended into the air, their energies crackling around them.
Varka's fire ignited the sky, streaking toward the lion like molten lances. Her attacks struck true, but the beast's dense hide barely charred, its natural resistance against elemental damage proving formidable.
Jorak followed up, summoning thunderous bolts of lightning. The crackling spears struck the lion's body, causing it to shudder, but once again, the damage was minimal. Frustration flickered across Jorak's face as he realized his energy attacks were proving ineffective.
Keshna, hovering higher than the rest, unleashed a torrent of wind laced with tiny black stones. Unlike pure energy attacks, the stones cut into the lion's flesh, drawing thin lines of blood. The lion roared in irritation, shifting its attention toward Keshna. With a powerful leap, it ascended toward her, its flames roaring to life.
"Move!" Varka shouted. Keshna barely twisted away in time as the lion's grey flames consumed the space she had occupied a moment earlier.
Darkhan took the opportunity to close in again, his diamond-spiked fists driving into the lion's ribs. The sound of cracking bone rang out, but the beast retaliated with a tail swipe that sent Darkhan skidding across the rocky ground. Blood trickled from his mouth, but his eyes remained fierce.
"Jorak! Varka!" Darkhan roared, pushing himself up. "We need to get in close! Energy attacks aren't enough!"
The two warriors exchanged glances and nodded. They descended swiftly, Jorak drawing his diamond sword and Varka tightening her grip on her spear. Darkhan met them at the lion's flank, the three warriors now fighting side by side.
Jorak slashed his diamond sword along the lion's hind leg, forcing it to stumble. Darkhan immediately followed up, striking its exposed side with both fists, sending another shockwave rippling through its body. Varka's spear came next, stabbing deep into the lion's shoulder, her weapon glowing with a fierce heat.
The lion howled, twisting and slamming a paw into Jorak, sending him flying into a nearby boulder. The rock shattered on impact, and Jorak groaned as he struggled to rise. Varka barely avoided another swipe, rolling beneath the beast and driving her spear into its underbelly.
Keshna continued her aerial assault, bombarding the lion with wind and stones, the tiny black shards digging into its flesh like needles. It was not enough to deal fatal damage, but it weakened the beast's defenses just enough for her comrades to strike deeper.
The lion, now covered in wounds and panting heavily, let out a final roar and summoned a massive wave of grey flames that spread outward in all directions. The warriors braced against it, but Darkhan, Varka, and Jorak were burned in the process. Their injuries were severe, but their determination did not waver.
"End this!" Darkhan growled through clenched teeth, his body battered but still standing.
Varka gritted her teeth, gripping her spear tightly. With a final burst of speed, she dashed forward, dodging the lion's desperate swipes. With a powerful thrust, she drove her spear into the beast's skull, piercing through its thick hide and into its brain.
The lion froze, its red eyes flickering as its body convulsed. Then, with a final breath, it collapsed, the grey flames fading into embers.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, the warriors exhaled in relief.
"It's dead," Jorak muttered, pressing a hand against his injured side.
"Good," Keshna said from above, her breathing heavy. "Let's get its body back to camp."
Darkhan and Jorak lifted the massive carcass, while Keshna used her wind to support its weight. Varka, still catching her breath, nodded in satisfaction before following them.
Unbeknownst to them, atop the mountain, a figure watched in silence.
Its lower half was that of a monstrous spider—eight obsidian legs glistening under the faint moonlight, their serrated edges gripping the rocky terrain with ease. The upper half resembled a man, but its skin was an unnatural shade of gray, pulsing faintly with eerie energy. Crimson eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as it observed the battle unfold below.
"Interesting..." the creature murmured, a wicked grin twisting its lips. "So, the stone race left a nail in this world after all."
With a final glance at the fallen beast, the creature silently withdrew, its massive body melting into the shadows, vanishing into the depths of the mountain range.
The Arachne moved swiftly through the treacherous mountain terrain, weaving through rocky cliffs and dense vegetation. Its journey was silent, calculated, a mere whisper in the wind—until it came to a sudden stop.
A faint growl echoed through the valley.
Crimson eyes narrowed as the creature surveyed its surroundings. All around, glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness, countless figures shifting within the mist. A pack of wolves—massive, their bodies wreathed in swirling gray energy, their eyes locked onto the lone intruder.
The Alpha emerged. Larger than the rest, its silver fur was marked with black streaks, its eyes burning with an unnatural hunger. Snarling, it took a step forward, hackles raised, and the air around it crackled with deadly force.
The Arachne let out a low chuckle. "A warm welcome?"
Without hesitation, the wolves lunged.
Two curved swords materialized in the Arachne's hands, their black blades pulsing with a malevolent purple fire. With a single, fluid motion, it spun into action.
The first wolf reached him—only to be cleaved clean in half. The flaming blade left a trail of searing light in the air, and before its body even hit the ground, the Arachne had already moved to the next.
A massacre began.
Wolves swarmed from every direction, but they were no match. Each strike of the Arachne's burning blades left devastation in its wake. The purple flames did not simply cut—they consumed. The moment the swords touched flesh, the fire spread, searing muscle, bone, and soul alike.
Snarls turned to pained howls. The scent of burning fur and flesh filled the valley as the Arachne carved through the pack with terrifying efficiency.
One. Two. Five. Ten. Twenty.
In mere moments, half the wolf pack lay lifeless, their bodies smoldering, their blood turning the ground dark.
The survivors hesitated. Their packmates had fallen like leaves in a storm. But hesitation did not last long.
A deafening howl pierced the night.
The Alpha charged, and with it, its elite.
A dozen wolves, each larger and more menacing than the others, moved in unison. Their attack patterns mimicked that of the lion from before—fast, coordinated, relentless. Grey energy crackled around their fangs and claws, forming deadly extensions that could rip through stone with ease.
The Arachne grinned, baring razor-sharp teeth.
"Now this... this is interesting."
Here's the intense battle and the continuation of the Arachne's journey into the ancient city:
---
### The Alpha's Charge
The Alpha wolf was a blur of motion, its massive form closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Its fangs, coated in swirling gray energy, snapped toward the Arachne's throat like a guillotine. At the same time, the elite wolves flanked from all sides, their claws glowing with the same deadly energy.
The Arachne, however, did not move.
Only when the Alpha's fangs were inches from his skin did he react.
His swords flickered.
A ringing sound cut through the air, and in the next instant, the Alpha's momentum halted mid-leap. A crimson line appeared across its throat—thin, precise. Then, with a sickening gurgle, blood erupted from the wound, and the mighty Alpha collapsed.
The Arachne landed gracefully a few feet away, his purple flames still flickering along the edge of his blades. "Faster than the lion," he mused, his crimson eyes gleaming. "But still too slow."
The elite wolves, seeing their leader fall, hesitated for a fraction of a second. It was enough.
With the grace of a predator, the Arachne weaved through their ranks, his blades singing with every strike. One wolf's head flew into the air. Another's spine was severed in a flash of violet fire. A third was impaled through the chest before its body was kicked aside like a broken doll.
The remaining wolves, realizing their doom, turned to flee.
The Arachne let them go. There was no satisfaction in slaughtering creatures that had already lost the will to fight.
The valley fell silent once more, the acrid scent of charred fur and blood thick in the air.
The Arachne exhaled, his breath steady. His body was untouched—without a single injury.
"A pity," he murmured, glancing at the fallen Alpha. "It had potential."
Sheathing his swords, he stepped away from the battlefield.
---
After a brief rest, the Arachne resumed his journey. The mountain range stretched endlessly before him, the green mists curling through the air like ghostly tendrils.
Eventually, he arrived at a vast valley. In its center, a deep and jagged crack split the earth—a chasm wide enough to swallow an entire village. From its depths, an eerie green glow pulsed, illuminating the surrounding rock formations with an unnatural light.
Lining the walls of the crack were massive green stones, their surfaces slick with some unknown substance. Each one spewed thick clouds of miasma, the very same that blanketed the entire Ancient Mountain Range and its surrounding forests.
He descended carefully, his many legs gripping the rough rock with ease as he navigated downward. The further he went, the stronger the green glow became, and soon, the mist was so thick that he could barely see beyond a few feet.
Then, at the bottom of the chasm, the mist suddenly parted.
Before him stood a city.
---
Sprawling and ancient, the city stretched across the valley floor. Towering spires pierced the sky, their black stone surfaces etched with forgotten runes. Palaces, their roofs shaped like jagged crowns, loomed over the empty streets. Yet there was no movement.
No flickering torches.
No distant murmurs of life.
Only silence.
The Arachne strode forward, his steps echoing eerily in the stillness. Every building's doors were shut, their entrances sealed as if the inhabitants had long abandoned them. But as he moved deeper into the city, one structure stood apart—a towering palace at the center, its grand doors wide open, beckoning him inside.
He did not hesitate.
Crossing the threshold, he entered the palace's vast hall, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. At its center, suspended from above, was a massive cocoon.
It pulsed.
Thick strands of web-like material wrapped around its form, glowing with green energy that radiated with an ominous hum. The air itself seemed to vibrate with its presence.
The Arachne's crimson eyes narrowed, his body lowering into a deep kneel.
"My Lord," he whispered, his voice reverent. "I have returned."
The cocoon pulsed once more, as if in response.
A deep, resonant voice echoed through the vast hall, reverberating off the stone walls like a whisper from the abyss.
"My child… You have returned."
The pulsating cocoon above throbbed with power, the green energy flowing from its strands intensifying. The Arachne remained kneeling, his head bowed in reverence.
"What have you learned from the world outside?"
Lifting his gaze, the Arachne's crimson eyes gleamed as he spoke. "My Lord, the world beyond is stirring. The spiritual energy of this realm is returning, and with it, the balance of power begins to shift. But there is something else—something the stone race left behind."
A pause, as the cocoon pulsed again, as if urging him to continue.
"The Stone Race left a nail in this world," the Arachne explained. "They did not completely abandon this realm. Instead, they sowed their legacy among the humans. There exists now a bloodline—a mixture of stone and human—a diluted form of their power. They are not pure, but they are strong. I have seen them fight, and their potential is undeniable."
Silence followed, heavy and expectant. Then, the voice from the cocoon spoke once more, its tone laced with intrigue and calculation.
"A remnant of the Stone Race… intriguing. If they are indeed a lingering thorn, we must gauge their strength before they become a threat."
A faint tremor rippled through the hall as the green energy surrounding the cocoon flared brighter.
"Awaken eight of our brethren—those who have reached the True Source Realm. Prepare an army of spiderlings. You will march upon this 'nail' the Stone Race has left behind. Test their strength. And while you are at it, scout the lands beyond. If the Stone Race planted their seed, then the other races that were sealed alongside us may also have begun to stir."
The Arachne's lips curled into a wicked smile. "As you command, my Lord. The world will tremble once more."
With a final pulse of energy, the cocoon fell silent, its presence looming in the dimly lit palace. The Arachne stood, his many legs clicking softly against the stone floor as he turned toward the exit.
It was time to awaken his brethren. Time to raise an army. Time to remind this world of the terror lurking beneath its surface.