A roaring stream of cursed Fiendfyre erupted directly from the metal. The red-hot flames possessed a vicious, predatory sentience. As Hazkar frantically attempted to leap away from the inferno, the fire morphed into the massive, snapping head of a serpent. The flaming jaws lunged forward, sinking its fiery fangs deep into the Old Man's exposed hand.
Hazkar shrieked, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony tearing from his throat. The ancient being instantly unleashed a massive, suffocating torrent of raw mana, violently smothering the cursed fire until it hissed into nothingness.
Anger and untamed rage contorted the Old Man's features. He abandoned all defensive grace, launching himself directly at the Emperor. He unleashed a manic, blistering barrage of heavy punches and deceptive feints. The sheer speed of his assault increased with every passing second, turning his scaled fists into a terrifying blur of fluid punches.
Hadrian parried the initial flurry, but the ancient entity's speed was rapidly becoming overwhelming. A heavy, scaled fist slipped past the broadsword's guard, slamming brutally into the side of Hadrian's face with the concussive force of a battering ram.
The Emperor was violently launched backward through the air, his black armour crashing heavily through the dead underbrush.
He slammed violently into the damp earth exactly where Hermione was desperately fighting. The rabid horde of Stone Men—summoned from the mist by the Old Man's guttural squeaks—had already descended upon her position just as she scrambled to lay her final rune stone.
…
Hermione
Father's command echoed through the smoke-filled clearing, spurring my exhausted body into immediate action. I scrambled away from the roaring epicenter of their duel, my boots sliding heavily through the slick, darkened soil.
There was no time to search for perfect materials. I dropped to my knees near the shattered marble steps, frantically digging my fingers into the damp earth to unearth smooth, flat river stones. Remembering Father's strict warning about the corruption, I did not project my magic outward. Instead, I gripped my wand like a chisel, tightly channelling my internal mana directly into the physical rock. Sparks hissed in the gloom as I rapidly seared the complex, jagged lines of a containment array into the stone's surface.
I slammed the first warded stone into the mud, but the horde of infected did not give me a single moment to breathe.
Drawn by the guttural, breathy squeaks of the river entity, dozens of Stone Men poured from the deep shadows surrounding the temple. They scrambled over the dead roots like a pack of starved, rabid hounds, their milky eyes rolling wildly in the dim light.
I vaulted over a fallen pillar, sprinting several paces to my right to establish the next anchor point. A ghoul lunged from the thick underbrush, its petrified hands swiping blindly at my throat. I ducked beneath the clumsy assault, driving the glowing edge of my gladius upward. The magically reinforced steel sheared through its crusted ribcage with a sickening crunch. Black, foul-smelling ichor sprayed across my tunic as I kicked the twitching corpse away.
I dropped to the earth again, desperately carving a second stone.
The jagged scratch on my cheek throbbed with an unrelenting fury. The pain was not subsiding; it was actively spreading. It felt as though a steady stream of boiling acid was being pumped directly into the veins of my face, radiating a blinding heat that made my right eye water uncontrollably.
The agonizing distraction severely fractured my concentration, and the mist immediately seized upon the weakness.
Without Father's protective aura shielding me, the suffocating grey fog violently pressed against my mind. It felt like cold sludge seeping through the cracks of my black marble walls. The melancholic, grief-stricken singing echoed loudly in the back of my skull, a haunting chorus attempting to drag my consciousness back into the illusion of the golden street. The woman's voice whispered promises of warmth and maternal safety, directly contrasting the brutal, blood-soaked nightmare I was currently fighting through.
I bit down hard on my lower lip, using the sharp copper taste of my own blood to anchor my mind to reality. I forced my Occlumency shields back into place, shoving the invasive whispers away.
I scrambled to my feet, clutching a third uncarved stone to my chest. The sheer volume of the horde was rapidly becoming overwhelming. They were entirely mindless, uncaring of the devastating shockwaves and blinding flashes of light erupting from the clash of gods just fifty paces away. They cared only for the warm blood leaking freely from my jaw.
Three infected charged me simultaneously. I swung my blade in a wide, desperate arc. The featherweight charm felt as though it was failing, but I knew it was merely my own physical limits catching up to me. My muscles burned with severity, every swing requiring a monumental effort of will.
I parried a heavy, rocky fist, pivoting on my heel to slice the attacker's arm clean off at the elbow. The second creature crashed into my flank, its heavy weight driving me into the mud. Crusted, diseased fingers clawed frantically at my velvet cloak. I screamed in frustration, bringing the heavy pommel of my sword smashing repeatedly into its petrified skull until the grey bone shattered into jagged fragments.
I shoved the heavy corpse off my legs, my chest heaving with desperation and ragged breaths.
I crawled to the next position, my fingers slick with blood and dark mud. I rapidly seared the runes into the third stone, slamming it into the ground. Just a few more anchor points were required to close the perimeter.
I forced my trembling legs to stand, staggering toward the designated spot near the edge of the temple boundary. My vision was swimming violently from the molten pain in my cheek and the relentless psychic pressure of the mist. Every shadow looked like a shifting face; every snap of a twig sounded like a mother's wail.
The infected formed a tightening ring around me, cutting off my path back to the safety of the temple steps. There were simply too many of them. They pressed inward, snapping their diseased jaws, their jagged fingers reaching hungrily for my bleeding face.
I gripped my sword with both hands, resolving to take as many of them down as I possibly could. I plunged the glowing stone into the earth at my feet.
Before I could even whisper a counter spell, a deafening crack of displaced air shattered the gloom above.
A massive, black-armoured projectile was violently launched through the forest canopy with the concussive force of a falling meteor. Father crashed brutally into the damp earth, his heavy frame ploughing directly into the swarming horde of Stone Men, violently shattering their petrified bodies into a cloud of grey dust and bone. While many others were flung as if a pebble into the mist.
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Hey guys so some readers have been review bombing the fic without reading it. I would greatly appreciate if you could review the fic honestly. Also going forward I will release an extra chapter for every 150 powerstones.