Chapter 116: Weaklings

Apollo's pupils vanished into blackish-green sclera, his limbs elongated, and his aura ballooned to something immeasurably more nightmarish. "Parthenon…" the voice rasped. "I want that soul."

Luke watched in alarm as the cardinal's entire figure turned a pulsing, dark jade color.

A wave of force blasted outward, sending shards of the snail's shell tumbling.

Even the Totem Serpent let out a rumble of disquiet, jerking back from the sudden onslaught.

At that moment, a lithe figure dropped from the serpent's flank.

Tanya Reed, clad in damp, weather-stained garments, landed nimbly on Luke's broad shoulder. Despite the swirling chaos, she managed a wry smile.

"Looks like you needed some backup," she said, voice breathless. "I brought the Totem Serpent—hope that helps."

"Tanya," Luke rumbled, relief in his tone. "Good timing. With the serpent's help, we might actually stand a chance."