Wickedness

Cormac let out a deafening roar, a final act of defiance that set the entire island ablaze. The flames surged in a relentless inferno, swallowing everything in a sea of orange fire. Smoke and mist intertwined, coiling around the island like a suffocating dome. As the fire died down, a solitary figure stood amidst the smoldering ruins.

The Lich.

One skeletal arm was missing, but the undead sorcerer remained eerily composed, his hollow gaze fixed on Cormac.

"Hmm... This generation isn't that bad, huh?" The Lich mused, his voice dry as ancient parchment.

Cormac descended from the sky, his instincts sharp, wary of any lingering traps. This wicked pile of bones was cunning—who knew what else he had up his sleeve?

"You lost, corpse. You will die... Maybe not. You're already dead, after all."

But the Lich merely shook his head, his skeletal fingers weaving silent enchantments. The island's structure solidified, preventing it from crumbling and crushing the flying ship hovering below where his master's friends were on flying vessel.

"No... I already won. Brute force isn't everything, and trust me... my master has a habit of being a wicked bastard."

Cormac frowned, studying the undead closely. Something was off. This wasn't an Echo. No, this felt more like the vile reflections Mordret conjured with his Aspect. If that was the case, then Klaus was just as much of a threat as Mordret himself.

Cormac didn't wasted time and decided to destroy Lich. But Before Cormac could deliver the final blow, the Lich vanished, swapping places with a sword mid-air. Cormac twisted his body instinctively, narrowly avoiding being impaled. His gaze snapped back—and then froze.

The Lich now stood beside Tyris.

Sky Tide Of White Feather Clan?

What was she doing here?

Cormac took a step forward, his very presence radiating pure, murderous intent. The leader of the White Feather clan met his glare without flinching, her elegant frame unmoving as she shielded Klaus with her body. Her vertical pupils gleamed with cold resolve, her face impassive as ever.

"That is enough, Cormac. Turn back."

His scowl deepened. The weathered warrior was not amused by this unexpected interference. "Sky Tide… stay out of this."

The world around her shifted in response. The wind picked up. The clouds grew heavier, darkening as if mirroring her suppressed emotions.

"I think not."

Cormac winced as resentment flared in his eyes. "You don't know what you're interfering with, Tyris. Get out of my way. This is not your business."

Her expression didn't change, but the howling winds grew stronger. The violet flowers carpeting the island bent beneath an unseen force, pressed into the dirt.

"This is my land. These Awakened are of my Citadel. Anything that happens here, and to them, is my business."

Cormac exhaled sharply, stepping forward. "The entire garrison of the Night Temple was wiped out. That beast you're protecting and his accomplices are the only witnesses. Are you sure you want their fate on your conscience?"

Sky Tide's frown deepened. Her voice was steady. "If that is true, then we can question them together. Back in the Sanctuary."

Klaus, grinning despite the tension, chuckled mockingly. "Well, don't call me a beast. The Lich is a gentleman, you see. Oh? Poor lizard. Did you get hurt? My apologies."

Cormac's aura flared violently, pressing down on Klaus with crushing force. Yeah… bad idea.

"Do you realise what you have done, boy?"

Klaus blinked in confusion, grinning smugly.

"Hmm... I don't know... What that would be? maybe Fucking your mother?"

Tyris looked at Klaus blankly. Was this kid this brave because she was protecting him? How shameless.

Cormac meanwhile smiled darkly.

The Saint's dark smile was a warning. He shook his head and let out a slow exhale, his bloodlust dissipating—if only for a moment. He ignored Klaus and focused on Tyris.

"I'm afraid that won't be convenient. You may not know my mission here, Tyris, but you know who gave it to me. Obstructing me is the same as obstructing the will of Valor… you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Sky Tide's lips curled slightly. Amused.

"And what exactly is he going to do? Punish me? Exile my clan to some remote frontier? Oh… wait…"

She took a step forward, her voice turning sharp as a blade. The sun disappeared behind the clouds, plunging the battlefield into shifting shadows.

"You forget, Cormac… I am Sky Tide of the White Feather clan. I serve the King, not Valor. Six years ago, I turned a blind eye to your odious scheme. I have regretted it ever since. But this? This is my land. You are merely a guest. Do not test the limits of my hospitality."

Klaus, watching her with gleaming eyes, whistled appreciatively. "You are so cool… If you weren't married, I'd consider kidnapping you. You know? I have a thing for blondes."

Sky Tide's powerful, emotional declaration ground to a halt. She blinked. Stared at Klaus, dumbfounded. Was this kid insane?

Klaus, still grinning, stepped forward. "But, Saint Cormac, you don't actually want to harm me… because I have something very important to you."

Cormac's frown deepened. Before he could respond, a dead nightmare creature with vast wings landed on the island. Three figures disembarked—Noah, Tatiana, and Isaac Zakharov.

Cormac's frown deepened. The Zakharov family? Now, almost all of them were here. Only that madman Diego was missing. He studied them. Tatiana—vain, yet undeniably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Isaac—playful but dangerous. The rumors surrounding him weren't just stories. And Noah—noble, regal even. Perhaps he was. The Zakharov family had the wealth and influence of a true clan.

"Noah Zakharov… I know you're a reasonable man. I hope you stop this foolishness. Your brother has offended the Great Valor Clan."

Sky Tide's gaze flickered toward the siblings. For the first time, a hint of confusion crossed her expressionless face.

Noah, ever the noble, offered a pleasant smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out… a picture?

Klaus gestured, and the picture floated toward Cormac. He snatched it mid-air, confused. Then, as his eyes registered what he was seeing, his blood ran cold.

An instant later, he was on Klaus, ripping his arms off before the bastard could teleport away completely. If not for Cormac's own injuries, Klaus would've been torn apart entirely.

"How?! How?!"

Sky Tide peered at the picture still clutched in Cormac's trembling hands. A child. A crying boy, no older than eight. And beside him… Diego Zakharov, smirking, taking a selfie while eating pie.

Her breath hitched.

It had all been planned. Cormac had lost before the battle even began. Before Klaus ever set foot in the Night Temple, the game had already been decided.

Noah's calm voice cut through the haze. "I hope you will remain rational, Saint Cormac. No harm will come to your son. But you must let my brother go."

The skies darkened further. Hundreds of dead nightmare creatures loomed above, floating in eerie silence, awaiting Noah's command.

"I will fight for my family until my last breath."

Cormac glared at him with unrestrained bloodlust. But… he breathed. He calmed himself. He stepped back.

"Fine. I will let him go. But you will return my son. That is the deal."

Noah's charming smile returned. He nodded. They reached toward each other to shake hands—

—when a skeletal hand pierced through Cormac's chest from behind.

The Lich, emerging from the mist, held Cormac's wildly beating heart in his bony grasp.

Klaus, still bleeding, groaned. "Ah, fuck… lost my arms. Karma's a bitch, huh? Maybe ripping off Mordret's wasn't such a good idea…"

Klaus grinned, his teeth stained with blood, glinting with a twisted, almost maniacal joy. The remains of his torn-off arms lay crumpled on the ground, but with a thought, arms started floating weightlessly in the air. His eyes glinted with dark humor as he raised one of the severed limbs, flipping Cormac a middle finger with a mocking flourish.

"Иди на хуй, сукин сын," he spat, the words dripping with venom as his voice echoed across the battlefield, despite the blood pooling in his mouth.

Cormac's eyes widened in disbelief.

The Lich squeezed.

And crushed his heart to dust.