“Child’s play…” Esorin sneered. “You dream of challenging me with such trifles?” While his full attention was tangled with Jared’s onslaught, Onneas slipped away on silent feet, circling behind the glowing gateway.
There she discovered its lifeblood, an enormous spiritual crystal buried beneath the stones, pulsing with raw power like a captive star. Hope flared in her chest. Forming a rapid seal, she fired needle-thin streams of energy straight toward the crystal’s heart.
However, a Demonic Cultivator caught the motion from the corner of his eye and shrieked, “Someone’s sabotaging the teleport array!”
Esorin’s head snapped around. Fury ignited across his features.
“Courting death!” he roared, diverting part of his vast strength and locking onto Onneas’ slender figure.
He vanished, reappearing mid-dash with murder blazing in his gaze, every ripple of his cloak tearing the air like claws.
Jared cursed under his breath and hurled himself harder into the fight, blade and intent exploding in a desperate bid to pin Esorin in place long enough for Onneas to finish the job. Yet Esorin was a force of nature.
With a mere twist of his sleeve, he shook free of Jared’s relentless blade-work and streaked toward Onneas, his robes whipping behind him like storm-dark banners.
Seeing that towering silhouette hurtling in, Onneas felt panic claw at her ribs, yet she ground her teeth, gathered the last dregs of her spiritual aura, and hurled another volley of shimmering force.
Just as Esorin’s shadow loomed over her, Jared burst from the flank. The Dragonslayer Sword flashed in his hands, its arc propelled by a boldness that seemed ready to split heaven itself, and he cleaved straight for the elder.
Esorin was forced to halt once more, swirling to meet that gilded edge with a palm strike that cracked the air like thunder.
Onneas seized the opening. Her next burst of power slammed directly into the spiritual crystal seated at the heart of the array.
The crystal boomed, a cannon in stone, and began to shudder so violently that fractures spidered across its flawless surface.
“This is bad, the array’s about to blow!” someone among the Demonic Cultivators screamed, terror shredding his voice.
Realizing the peril, Esorin’s eyes flashed with urgency. He poured everything into a blistering assault, desperate to snuff out Jared and Onneas before ruin descended.
But Jared and Onneas moved like twin flames on a shared wick, covering one another’s weak spots, refusing to yield even an inch.
At the brink of destruction, an unseen force swept in from the horizon, subtle yet immeasurably vast, and the crystal’s wild energies steadied under its invisible grip.
Both fighters felt their hearts sink. Whatever hand had intervened, it had tilted the field once more against them.
“Ruin the Celestial King Palace and kill every soul inside!” Enaricus shouted, unable to contain his bloodthirsty excitement.
Just as blades were raised, Esorin lifted a hand.
“Hold!” he commanded, voice low yet ironclad.
Enaricus blinked, aghast. “Grand Elder, this is the perfect moment to seize the palace, why hesitate?”
“Oh? Are you instructing me now?” Esorin asked, each syllable edged like broken glass. He leveled a glacial stare at Enaricus that made lesser cultivators shrink back.
Enaricus’ bravado evaporated. He shook his head so fast his helm rattled. “I… I wouldn’t dare, Grand Elder. Your judgment is absolute!”
He understood all too well, the rabble here answered to Esorin, not him. Crossing the elder would get him erased faster than a candle in a gale.
Esorin turned to Jared, greed flickering in his pupils. “Boy, that sword of yours is extraordinary. Hand it over and I’ll spare your life, let you walk away unharmed.”
A metallic chill flashed through Jared’s gaze, though he masked it with a show of uncertainty. His fingers tightened around the Dragonslayer Sword until his knuckles blanched.
“Will you keep your word?” Jared asked, voice trembling just enough to seem convinced by fear.
“Hmph! My word is law,” Esorin declared, hands clasped behind his back, arrogance thick enough to taste.
Onneas cried out, “Jared, you can’t bend! These butchers honor nothing they say!”
Isabel added, “Mr. Chance, you mustn’t trust anything those villains promise!”
But Jared acted as though their pleas were wind through dead leaves. Slowly, he raised the Dragonslayer Sword horizontally, as if ready to surrender it.
The hunger in Esorin’s eyes blazed brighter. He could not stop himself from stepping forward, palm already half-extended.
In that lightning-split heartbeat, Jared said, “Here… Take it…”
The Dragonslayer Sword erupted in a shockwave of golden light. The dragon runes along its spine writhed to life, pouring out a chorus of ancient roars that rattled every soul present.
