Beyond the Apocalypse

"These are some of the great heroes of the Golden Sky Fortress—men and women from different races and backgrounds who fought with immense determination and will, bearing deep wounds from their clashes against the Vorometallicae Race."

Marshal Maximo’s voice interrupted Vlad’s train of thought, drawing his attention back to the wounded warriors. A deep and solemn expression settled on the Marshal’s face, his every feature radiating an overwhelming sense of responsibility and respect. The Depravita of Wrath could see as clearly as day that Maximo considered the healing and safety of these people to be one of his most important duties.

Vlad did not offer any commentary, as he did not personally know these warriors. However, his eyes glowed with admiration. No matter who they were or where they came from, anyone willing to pay the ultimate price to protect their home was a hero in his eyes.

Maximo nodded in silent approval as he noted the reverence in Vlad’s gaze. Then, in a solemn voice, he said, "Prepare your materials and be ready to work as quickly as possible. While the flames slow the advance of the chaotic energy of The Darkness, their wounds remain critical. Once I remove them from the healing poods, their condition will begin to deteriorate rapidly."

Vlad’s expression turned serious. He gave a sharp nod before sinking into a meditative position, gathering his materials with focused precision. As before, he mixed the necessary ingredients with a flaming surge of Depravita Aura before placing them into his legendary runic pen. However, even after this step was complete, he did not immediately rise. Instead, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, honing his mind for the intricate work ahead.

Marshal Maximo did not rush him. He understood that clear and sharp focus was required for such delicate runic craftsmanship. For nearly fifteen minutes, Vlad remained motionless, deep in concentration. Then, at last, he opened his eyes and gave the Marshal a sharp nod.

Without hesitation, Maximo strode toward one of the larger metal pods, its surface glowing faintly from the magic matrices etched into its frame. With controlled strength, he opened the pod and lifted out a massive ogre, nearly seven meters tall, before carefully placing him on an operating table in the middle of the room.

The ogre was a formidable sight. His towering, brawny physique was covered in green skin stretched over battle-hardened muscles. His broad chest and thick arms radiated sheer strength, every inch of his body forged for combat. Veins pulsed beneath his skin, emphasizing his raw physical power, while the countless scars decorating his body told the stories of brutal battles and hard-fought victories. His bulging shoulders and thick, sinewy neck supported his massive frame, making him look like an unstoppable force on the battlefield.

But at the center of his chest was a grievous wound, seemingly made by massive claws. The wound was so deep that one could almost see his heart. Tendrils of chaotic energy from The Darkness spread through the wound, creeping dangerously close to the vital organ. If he were removed from the chamber without intervention, there was a high chance he would succumb to the corruption within hours.

Maximo’s voice carried an air of personal concern as he spoke. "His name is Bloodroar. He is a good friend—and a fierce warrior. Sometimes too fierce for his own good." His expression was complicated, revealing a mix of admiration and worry.