Chapter 650: Fortuna’s Champions
CH650 Fortuna’s Champions
***
While they were not yet entirely certain of the rewards bestowed by the Dragon Emperor upon his beast companions following the Anima Stele trial, they had already confirmed at least two.
The first—and most immediately apparent—benefit was the balancing of the beast companions’ elemental affinities alongside the refinement of their bloodlines.
Fen experienced a harmonisation of his Ice, Fire, and Nature affinities, which ultimately gave rise to his distinctive ashen fur.
Senu, on the other hand, achieved a balance between her Light, Darkness, and Spatial affinities. Despite this, she still showed a marked preference for exploiting her Spatial affinity, using it to deliver high-powered, near-impossible-to-evade strikes.
Dread underwent a strengthening of his Nightmare Bloodline, resulting in a more imposing physique—larger, more muscular, and far more intimidating. Alongside this, his Darkness affinity appeared to deepen and grow more potent.
The second reward granted by the Dragon Emperor was the awakening—and subsequent strengthening—of each beast companion’s innate Ruler, or Alpha, nature.
Dread had already demonstrated the ability to command and direct the other horses within the party, so the evolution of his Ruler nature was not immediately apparent.
Similarly, Senu had always carried herself with an air of royalty. As such, the emergence of her Ruler nature went largely unnoticed, overshadowed by her already formidable Regal Aura ability.
However, in Fen’s case, the awakening of his Alpha nature was couldn’t go unnoticed. The Culinary Wolf gained the ability to command other wolves—regardless of species—so long as they were not stronger than himself.
It was through Fen’s display of this ability that Alex became aware of the changes in the other two companions as well. It was also during this time that Senu discovered she could extend her authority over all avian species, provided they were also weaker than her.
Interestingly, the definition of ’weaker’ was not limited to rank. The early Class 3, Alex’s beast companions have displayed the ability to command mid Class 3 beasts, who should technically be stronger than them.
So, it was quite possible the strength requirement referred to actual power regardless of rank.
Fen had celebrated this newfound power enthusiastically. For a long time, as a unique wolf species, he had nearly abandoned the idea of ever forming a pack of his own.
Now, what once seemed impossible had been made possible by the Dragon Emperor’s gift.
As for the others, Dread regarded the change with indifference, while Senu considered it only natural that she should command all avians—after all, in her view, they were inherently her subjects.
Meanwhile, the battle continued to rage with unrelenting intensity.
With the Fortuna Company largely transitioning back to melee combat, the Lost Heathens managed to regain some composure, re-forming their lines and establishing defensive positions.
Even so, they were steadily being driven back.
The scouting party had already finished securing the walls. They descended from the ramparts and redirected their efforts towards clearing any remaining hostiles along the outer perimeter of the base.
Meanwhile, reinforced by Fen’s wolf pack, the Fury Knights pushed towards the centre of the settlement, advancing through the carnage left in the wake of Kavakan, Mogal, and Havel.
Havel lifted his gaze and spotted a large two-storey building in the distance. It stood taller and far more refined than any other structure within the base, making its importance to the Lost Heathens immediately apparent.
Without hesitation, he set off in that direction.
Suddenly, his path was blocked by three hostiles.
"Quick Draw – Flash Slash!"
Havel’s figure vanished—only to reappear behind them in the next instant.
"Hold—"
One of the hostiles turned to react, but his vision abruptly tilted. Something struck the ground with a dull thud.
A headless body entered his view.
’That’s... mine.’
It was his final thought before darkness claimed him.
The other two hostiles fared no better—their bodies collapsed moments later, cleanly decapitated.
"Flash Step!"
Havel’s eyes narrowed as he sensed movement ahead. In the next instant, he surged forward.
A One-Star Gold-ranked fighter was leading a group of Three-Star Silver-ranked subordinates, positioning themselves within an alleyway to set up an ambush.
Unfortunately for them, Havel had spotted them before they could complete their preparations.
Utilising a sudden burst of speed, Havel dashed along the wall bordering the alley, using it to propel himself onto the rooftop above.
"Sword Intent!"
"Falling Sickle!"
He descended like a blade from the heavens, delivering a devastating overhead slash directly onto the Gold-ranked leader.
The strike cleaved cleanly through the man’s neck just as he leaned out to scan the street for an unsuspecting victim.
In the end, he himself had been the unsuspecting prey—conveniently presenting his neck to the descending blade.
Havel’s sword flashed several more times in rapid succession.
One by one, heads separated from bodies, rolling silently across the ground.
With the ambush utterly dismantled, Havel—now aptly deserving of the title, Head-hunter—continued his advance towards the large building, leaving behind a grim trail of headless corpses in his wake.
Conversely, Kavakan was... well, Kavakan.
The hulking weretiger roared with savage laughter as his twin axes cleaved through anything in his path across the base.
Unlike Havel, he did not pursue a specific objective. His focus was simple—cut down as many hostiles as possible. Partly for vengeance, to appease the spirits of his fallen raid party subordinates... and partly to satisfy the insatiable thirst for blood emanating from his twin axes.
Slaughter Intent!
Call of the Wild!
With every life he claimed, his killing intent surged—and with it, his power. Yet Kavakan did not stop there.
Unwilling to allow his path of carnage to be halted, the weretiger activated his species’ innate ability, flooding his body with even greater strength as he tore through hostiles indiscriminately, regardless of their rank or resistance.
Though he followed no deliberate path, instead chasing the flow of battle itself, he still found his way towards the heart of the base.
The hostiles, seeking to leverage their superior numbers, had begun to converge in an attempt to defend their stronghold.
Little did they realise that, in doing so, they had drawn a force of nature directly towards themselves.
Meanwhile, as the designated Champion of the Fortuna Company—and to fully indulge his craving for battle—Mogal had taken position within the town’s central plaza, deliberately making himself the focal point of attention.
Unlike the other two walking calamities, Mogal appeared comparatively weaker due to the suppressive effects of the Chains of Unyielding. This illusion lured scores of hostiles into attacking him without hesitation.
Mogal welcomed them all.
Beast Totem – Bear!
Beast Totem – Dune Croc!
Amidst the relentless combat, his comprehension deepened. He began to seamlessly alternate between beast totems in the midst of battle—refining both speed and efficiency with each exchange.
He changed fluidly between the raw strength of the Bear for devastating strikes and the hardened scales of the Dune Croc for defence, adapting instinctively to each incoming threat.
Whenever his injuries reached critical levels, a healing spell from Eleanore would descend upon him through Alex’s [Link] spell. Likewise, when fatigue threatened to slow him, a restorative spell would follow through the same connection.
This constant support allowed Mogal to fight without restraint—pushing his limits, tempering his body, and honing his abilities through sheer, unrelenting combat.
"Stop wasting time! Kill him already!" a Peak Silver-ranked Lost Heathen officer roared in frustration.
Unable to tolerate the stalemate any longer, the officer charged forward himself, intent on finishing off what he believed to be the ’weaker’ opponent.
Mogal’s eyes gleamed as he locked onto the incoming attack.
’Let my Will be unhindered!’
One-Heart Punch!
Mogal gathered his will, condensing and hardening it into a potent Intent, before driving his fist forward—meeting the incoming blade of the hostile head-on.
Shatter!
Bang!
To the man’s utter horror, Mogal’s fist shattered the weapon upon impact, reducing it to fragments. The momentum did not stop there.
The punch continued forward, striking him squarely in the chest—just above the heart.
The force of the blow sent a violent shock through his body, disrupting his heart and bringing it to an abrupt halt.
Thud!
The man collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
***
