Chapter 12: The Hyls Sisters
A burst of red aura exploded from the Khaibet, tearing through the air. Blades of scarlet energy shot forth, slicing through the ogres like paper. The ice ogre at the forefront was cut in two. Its torso slid off its legs, its intestines spilling onto the ground in a steaming heap.
Blood sprayed in arcs, painting the walls. A second ogre’s arm was torn off, the bone snapped clean, flesh dangling in tatters. A third was gutted, its organs splattering the mana stones. The bodies collapsed, their severed limbs twitching in pools of blood. The acrid stench of viscera saturated the room.
The dungeon shook violently. The mana stones, overloaded by the attack, exploded in flashes of light, releasing waves of raw mana. The residual aura of Nefertoum, contained within the Khaibet, unleashed itself, cracking the walls.
The ground split open, stone blocks crashing around Daemon. The unstable pocket dimension began to collapse. A deafening roar filled the air as the cave was wracked by tectonic spasms.
*Crack*
The pocket world fractured.
Daemon, at the end of his strength, leaned on the sword. Blood flowed from his shredded arm, his mouth, his broken ribs. His vision darkened, black spots invading his eyes.
He faintly heard cries outside, familiar voices. Erwan? The knights? He wasn’t sure. His legs gave way, and he collapsed, the Khaibet falling beside him. The ground trembled one last time, then everything went dark.
A week later, Indivar Estate
In the archduke’s office, Darian stood tall, hands behind his back, his solemn face contrasting with the stern expression of his father, Klaüs Indivar. The room, with walls draped in scarlet velvet and adorned with portraits of ancestors, smelled of parchment and ink. Klaüs, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, flipped through files, his aged fingers drumming on the wood.
"What you’re asking is utterly absurd, Darian," Klaüs said, barely looking up. "The Khaibet must stay with Daemon."