Chapter 366: Fuego de Horror
"I am Ned Anark, Captain of the Lords of Horror. We will handle this threat alone," the man declared. His voice was rough and powerful, commanding respect and exuding unwavering determination. It resonated like thunder across the battlefield, washing over the soldiers like a tsunami and causing many to gasp.
Not waiting for a reply, Ned turned around, striding forward with the other massive soldiers clad in bulging white armor. They positioned themselves right at the end of the safe passage, shocking all members of the Golden Wave Legion. That spot was where the Leviathans’ numbers would have the least impact but also where the momentum of their march would be the strongest, placing incredible pressure on any defenders.
The Lords of Horror showed no fear or hesitation as they gazed at the incoming wave. Their eyes, hidden beneath their visors, were sharp and resolute as they formed two rows, covering the passage from edge to edge—forming a white wall against the approaching dark tsunami.
Grand Marshal Anglius, the soldiers of the Golden Wave Legion, and the Turkin soldiers all gazed at the thirty-three imposing figures with a sense of awe they couldn’t quite describe. But Freya could. The Viking princess’s instincts were more developed than the others, and she understood that the oppressive, awe-inspiring feeling gripping their hearts was because they were in the presence of individuals at a higher evolutionary stage—just as kobolds would feel awe in the presence of dragonborns.
However, that wasn’t the only thing Freya detected. She could also feel a similar aura within them, one she had only sensed in three other people.
"The power running through Vlad, Jormungandr, and Ouroboros is coursing through their bodies," she whispered to herself.
The young woman had always been in awe of Vlad’s unique racial heritage, but while she was curious, she never asked, respecting the young man’s privacy. Now, her eyes couldn’t help but focus on these figures, wondering just how strong they were.
The Lords of Horror watched as the dark wave of Leviathans drew closer and closer—the hundreds of drones packed together, marching through the narrow passage. Their maws were open, emitting strange, guttural noises as they sought to devour everything in their path. Such a sight could cause fear and anxiety even in the bravest soldiers, for they were not machines. But the Lords of Horror were beyond those emotions. They were designed for this task, with runic, alchemical, and biological modifications that allowed them to control such feelings, leaving only focus on the battlefield.
All thirty-three massive warriors, clad in gleaming white armor, raised their right hands in unison. Golden, glowing magic matrices began to appear on their palms, burning brighter and brighter with accumulating power. The air around them crackled with energy, and a palpable tension built as the Leviathans drew ever nearer.
The soldiers behind them held their breath, hearts pounding in their chests. The drones were less than five meters away, their razor-sharp pincers and dripping fangs mere moments from striking.
"Fuego de Horror!" the Lords of Horror roared.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!