Chapter 78: Final escape
The silence was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the remaining three wheels and the strained breathing of the Spirit Stags.
Damien didn’t wait. The moment the carriage leveled out, he was scrambling.
"Leona, how bad is the arm?" he demanded, already applying a simple Earth-Mana compress to the side of her helmet where the visor was jammed shut.
Leona pushed the carriage roof open and dropped back inside, wincing. She was covered in dust and grit. "Clean break, maybe a hairline fracture in the ulna. I’ll heal. It’s the stags, they’re pushing past their limit." She fought to suppress the flare of her Berserk Aura, knowing the raw power consumption would collapse her faster than Baelor could catch them.
The Spirit Stags were breathing in harsh, ragged gasps, their speed maintained only by the sheer momentum and Lyra’s constant, faint stream of Phantom Wind urging them forward.
"Lyra, keep them running. We can’t stop yet," Damien said, his voice raw. He ran his tongue across his lips and tasted the metallic tang of his own blood, which was crusting beneath his nose.
The backlash of countering Baelor’s Intent was a migraine that felt like a chisel was being driven into his skull.
Isabelle looked pale but focused. "The collapse will hold him for hours. That was thousands of tons of rock. Even a 5th Order shouldn’t..."
CRUMBLE. CRUMBLE.
The sound was not a muffled rumble; it was a clear, sharp sound travelling through the rock walls of the canyon. It sounded like a dog digging a hole.
Damien’s heart dropped. He looked at Lyra, whose eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared at the back wall of the canyon on the map.
"No way," Lyra whispered. "He’s using his Aura like a geothermal drill. He’s vaporizing the rock."