The Punishment of the Savage Beast Lord

In an instant, the once ferociously charging beasts found themselves ensnared by an invisible force. Their movements slowed dramatically, each step as laborious as trudging through a deep, viscous swamp. The overwhelming momentum they once possessed dissipated, leaving them struggling against an unseen restraint.

The beast lord's eyes widened in shock.

"What is this? When did such a powerful individual appear?A force capable of freely manipulating movement on such a vast scale… This is something only gods should be able to wield!"

For the first time, a trace of unease and dread crept into its heart. Yet, its greed refused to let it retreat so easily. Instead, it grew even more wary, its sharp gaze locking onto Lilia, scrutinizing her for any flaws, any openings to exploit.

If there truly was a treasure involved, it had to claim it. More than that, it had to restore its shattered pride—no one had ever dared to challenge its dominance like this before.

Throwing back its head, it let out a long, piercing howl. The sound carried a strange, insidious energy, slicing through the air like an arrow, directly targeting the runes that fueled Lilia's slow spell.

The radiant symbols flickered violently under the assault, cracks forming along their glowing lines. The force that had bound the beasts began to wane, its grip loosening.

Mere moments later, the savage creatures regained control of their bodies. Though the spell had not entirely dissipated and their movements were still sluggish, they were no longer entirely immobilized. Low, guttural growls rumbled from their throats, their eyes burning with renewed aggression.

Rowan stepped forward, his expression sharp and unwavering.

"We have no quarrel with you," he declared. "What happened today is nothing more than a misunderstanding. Take your followers and leave now, or don't blame us for what happens next."

The beast lord let out a cold snort, the greed in its eyes intensifying.

"Spare me your empty words. Hand over the treasure now, or none of you will leave this place alive!"

Rowan's brows furrowed slightly. Treasure?

Jace, standing beside him, was just as bewildered. His people had lived in this valley for generations, barely scraping by. What kind of treasure could they possibly possess?

The beast lord, seeing their confusion, mistook it for feigned ignorance and grew even more enraged.

"Enough of your pathetic games!" it bellowed. "When the treasure surfaced, its radiance pierced the heavens! The entire region saw it—you think you can deceive me?!"

Realization dawned on Rowan. It must have been the light that erupted when Lilia reclaimed her artifact. The beast had mistaken it for the birth of a priceless treasure.

"You misunderstand," Rowan explained, his voice calm yet firm. "There is no treasure. What you saw was merely the manifestation of a special training technique I was performing."

But the beast lord refused to believe him.

"Lies! Do you take me for a fool? Enough talk—if you won't hand it over, then prepare to be torn apart by my horde!"

Its mind raced. Though these two seemed powerful, they were outnumbered. With sheer numbers alone, it could wear them down. Victory was within reach.

Rowan sighed inwardly. Words would not resolve this. The only way to end this conflict was to utterly subjugate the beast lord.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to unleash his trump card—The Grand Prophecy.

A brilliant light erupted from his body, an overwhelming aura radiating outward. His eyes shut as he chanted an ancient incantation, his voice imbued with divine authority. Then, with a voice that resonated through the air, he proclaimed:

"The heavens decree—those who embrace evil shall face the wrath of thunder!"

The moment the words left his lips, the very fabric of reality trembled.

The beast lord suddenly found itself locked in place, its body frozen by an unseen force. Terror filled its eyes as it sensed an unfathomable power descending upon it.

Then, from the sky, lightning fell.

Blinding bolts of electricity, thick as ancient trees, roared down with deafening fury. The heavens themselves seemed to rage as streaks of white-hot energy crashed into the beast lord's massive form.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The impact was cataclysmic. Scorching tendrils of lightning carved deep into its flesh, its once-impenetrable black scales shattering and scattering in all directions. The acrid scent of burnt fur and flesh filled the air.

The beast lord's agonized screams echoed through the valley. Its body convulsed uncontrollably, the pain unlike anything it had ever experienced.

Jace and the hunters stood frozen, their eyes wide in sheer awe.

To them, Rowan had just proven himself to be nothing short of a god.

The raw, unrelenting power he wielded—this was no ordinary magic. This was divine judgment.

As the last remnants of the lightning dissipated, the beast lord lay on the ground, its body still trembling. The once-dominant ruler of the valley now looked utterly broken.

Rowan studied it for a moment. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he conjured another spell.

A warm, gentle golden light blossomed in his palm, soft and radiant like the first light of dawn.

It was The Grand Healing.

With a simple wave of his hand, the light surged toward the fallen beast lord, enveloping it in a cocoon of restorative energy.

The pain subsided. The wounds that marred its body began to knit back together. Torn flesh mended, shattered bones realigned, and burned skin regained its former resilience.

The beast lord's eyes widened in disbelief.

It could hardly comprehend what was happening—how the same force that had brought it to the brink of death was now restoring it.

More than pain, more than humiliation… what it felt now was fear.

True, unshakable fear.

For the first time in its life, it understood—this human before it held the power to decide its fate with a mere thought.

And nothing was more terrifying than absolute power.