Chapter 541: Ambush (IV)
Zalasar’s eyes widened in astonishment when he saw the white werewolf smash the Voroe Sage backward with a single devastating punch. In his long years as a warrior, he had become adept at discerning the nuances of combat techniques.
The black armored man recognized that the punch was not merely fueled by brute strength; it was bolstered by formidable skill and masterful energy manipulation. Yet he did not allow his surprise to linger for more than a heartbeat. A Doomsday World was no place for complacency, and even apparent allies might turn into enemies.
Almost instinctively, Zalasar’s eyes narrowed as he examined the new arrivals. By extending his senses, he probed their soul auras and discovered something peculiar. Even though only one among the four appeared fully human in form, all possessed soul auras that were strangely human-like—or at least a close variant. It was enough to pique his curiosity but not enough for him to simply drop his guard. Still, they had saved his life, and in the unrelenting peril of the Land of the Three Calamities, that counted for a great deal.
A moment later, Zalasar felt a surge of killing intent. Glancing to his left, he saw the werewolf lock eyes with him before turning its focus back on the injured Voroe Sage. He understood that the creature’s bloodlust was aimed not at him but at the monstrous enemy who still posed a grave threat. He nodded in silent agreement. They both wanted the same thing: to put an end to the Voroe Sage for good.
"ARRRGGHHHH!"
A raw battle cry tore from the throats of Zalasar and the white werewolf as they simultaneously unleashed fresh waves of power. Zalasar’s muscles tensed beneath his dark armor, and the werewolf’s own form bulged with new vitality, bone and sinew cracking as it grew even more imposing. Together, they charged at the Voroe Sage, who was still reeling from the sudden turn of events.
Some distance away, Vlad narrowed his eyes. He could see Ouroboros and the black-armored human coordinating to fight the large Voroe Sage. Though momentarily stunned by the unexpected shifts in the battle, the monstrous Sage demonstrated the vicious resilience characteristic of the Vorometallicae race.
Vlad recognized at a glance that it would be a fierce engagement requiring skill and relentless will. "They’ll have to fight tooth and nail," he thought. Yet before the Depravita of Wrath could reflect further, his senses warned him of movement ahead. Looking down, he saw another figure slowly rising from the dust and rubble.
Vlad realized he had no time to worry about the others. The Voroe Sage he had blasted before with his laser and tackled with Inferno Comet was climbing to his feet, battered but far from defeated. This looming threat was his alone to handle, as Jormugandr, Fafnir, and Ouroboros were each occupied with separate foes.
"THUMP!" Vlad’s pulse thundered. He pushed the Heart of Wrath—his unique Depravita Racial Ability—to its limit, channeling furious energy through his veins. His aura flared with crackling lightning and scorching flames. Smoke rose in lazy tendrils from his limbs, a sign of how close he was to overloading his body’s capacity.
Standing about three and a half meters tall, the smaller Voroe Sage bore deep wounds from Vlad’s earlier laser assault. Molten blood still dripped from his cracked metallic flesh. Yet his eyes were alight with hatred and ferocity, seething with the desire for revenge. Vlad had thwarted his surprise attack on Zalasar—an act the Voroe Sage viewed as unforgivable.