“A-Amara!”
Amara caught it before Veric shouted.
She simply appeared between the swing and Veric, one hand closing around the club’s shaft mid-swing, and the motion stopped dead. She suffered no shudder or recoil. Just a wall of force that announced this is where your momentum dies.
Ragna’s arms shook from the impact. She tried to pull the club free, but it didn’t move. Amara held it like a mother keeping a stick from a toddler, almost mocking.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but you guys have picked the wrong fight, Valtherians,” the black panther woman said. Then she let go.
Four grooves marked the club where her claws had been. Maybe it was payback for last time, when Ragna blocked her claws. She was proving that the rumors about Ashkari claws weren’t merely rumors.
I glanced at the dungeon wall behind her. Four fresh gashes cut deep into the stone. She hadn’t fought the basilisk, but maybe she blocked a stray hit to protect Veric. Her claws must have scraped the wall. The trenches were deep enough to fit my thumb.
Those claws could open Ragna up in a heartbeat. Not good.
Amara moved between Ragna and Veric. She didn’t attack or advance. She just stood there, gold eyes flat, collar glowing, doing only what the compulsion forced her to do.
Ragna noticed it too. This woman, she didn’t want to fight us. That was another reason I had to kill Veric, if only to free her.
Ragna’s stance shifted from “kill Veric” to “get past the obstacle.” She understood the difference between something that wanted to fight and something that had been told to. But understanding didn’t change the math.
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
She attacked anyway because she was Ragna.
Her club came around in a low arc aimed at Amara’s ribs. Amara sidestepped it without moving her feet, just a slight rotation of her torso that made the swing miss by an inch. Ragna followed with a second strike, then a third, each one faster and angrier than the last.
“Oh, come on.” Amara dodged every swing, sighing. She moved like water, never countering, never striking back. Just dodging.
“STOP DODGING, AMARA! KILL THEM!” Veric screamed from behind his shield. “ALL OF YOU! KILL THEM NOW!”
Every collar in the chamber flared red at once.
Amara’s collar lit up too. She sighed again.
I knew things were getting dangerous now so I kicked the ground, ignoring Illyra’s call, and rushed to help Ragna. Then the wolfman turned from the wounded Basilisk. His sword came up and his eyes found mine. There was something in his expression that looked like an apology delivered through clenched teeth. Then he charged.
[6th Ascension]
He was a rank above me. That explained the pressure. He raised his sword and the air tightened, like someone had pulled a rope through my ribs.
His first cut came for my neck. I caught it on my axe haft. The hit was heavy, and my arms rang from the impact. His Aura slid into my weapon like oil, trying to push through and into my hands.
I answered with my own.
I kept my Aura thin at first, the same way I'd been doing all day, and the difference was immediate. Our weapon didn’t clash anymore, instead the space between our weapons sparked with pressure as that clashed against one another. The haft of my weapon groaned as if it hated being the meeting place for two wills.
He was fast and precise, fighting like someone who’d been punished for wasting motion. I parried a thrust and tried to step in, but his blade snapped back across my chest so quickly I had to back off or lose a lung.
He wasn't trying to kill me. If he were, he could have made this a much deadlier attack.
These people were all nice people. If only because they were showing me kindness, I had to break their chains. Behind him, Veric’s other slaves circled, waiting for their master to start screaming again. The ox-woman drifted toward Elayne. A scarred man with a mace angled for Ilyra. Nobody rushed. They were just waiting for the signal to go wild.
"Valtherian," the wolfman said under the clash of steel, low enough that only I could hear. "Call your other companions. Especially that old knight. If he helps you, you'll live."
He met my eyes for half a beat.
"Otherwise your girl dies in Amara's hands."
My jaw tightened at that. I didn’t risk looking at the other fight, but I didn’t have to. Ragna’s grunt had changed. I knew that sound.
She was hurt but as always too stubborn to admit it.
Veric’s voice echoed through the chamber, smug now. He thought he’d found the lever. "Lady Ilyra!" he called. "Do you wish to help these savages? Considering our long friendship, as long as you stay away, I would consider this matter resolved!" Then he looked at Ragna and me. “Kill those two bastards, be quick!”
The wolfman’s face twitched. Then the collar at his neck flared, and his eyes went darker like someone had poured ink into them.
"Sorry," he said.
And then his sword stopped playing nice. His Aura surged. The pressure slammed into me hard enough that my boots scraped the stone. He drove me back two steps with a flurry that wasn't meant to win clean, only to pin me in place.
Yet, despite the danger increasing, my eyes went over his shoulder. I saw Amara’s claw slide past Ragna’s guard. The tip grazed her upper arm.
It was just a touch. But just from that, a thin line opened on Ragna’s arm. Smoke curled up, like a branding iron had touched her skin. Her eyes went wide for a second, teeth bared. She still tried to swing.
Amara’s other hand came up, calm and glittering gold. I knew what was coming before it landed. She easily redirected the attack and went behind Ragna, drawing a cut across her thighs. If she truly wanted to, she could swipe across Ragna’s neck next time.
I couldn’t risk that, if Veric gave a more specific order.
I had to get past the wolfman.
“Focus here!” The wolfman shouted as his blade caught my axe and held it for a heartbeat. His Aura crawled into my weapon and pushed.
My world narrowed to the numbness in my hands. He leaned in, hissing, almost angry now. "Don’t make this difficult for me, give up, I’ll make it quick!"
His collar flared brighter, and his body moved against his will. My thin Aura wasn’t enough anymore. Thankfully, my reserves were far from expended.
[Aura: 4720/7000]
I shoved a wave of thick and heavy Aura outwards. My breath came out hot. The air around my arms shimmered, and my grip on the axe was solid again.
[Tempest Strike]!
I drove forward with my axe. He met me. The clash hit like two storms in a narrow hall. For a second, we locked together, blade and haft grinding. The pressure made my teeth ache.
Then I heard Ragna's breath hitch.
The pain in her voice was far too clear in my eyes. I looked past the wolfman. Amara’s claws were coming again, higher this time, aimed at Ragna’s throat. Clean and efficient, like she was slicing fruit.
No.
Something ugly twisted in my chest. A surge of barbaric ownership spread through my blood. The wolfman’s boots slid. His eyes widened a little, and he muttered something that sounded like a prayer.
I didn't give him time.
The Royal Mantle of Valteria erupted around me.
I didn’t want to rely on this, since we were inside a cave system, but I didn’t really care anymore. Pure Crimson Aura burst from my shoulders, filling the chamber like a living cloak. The pressure wasn’t just mine. It was old, heavy with barbaric history.
The nearest slaves flinched like they’d been slapped.
The wolfman's sword dipped for half a second.
That half second was enough.
I slammed the haft into his wrist. His blade flew. My elbow slammed into his chest and sent him crashing into the wall as he groaned in pain.
I ignored him and ran straight at Amara. “Amara Ashkari!” I called to distract her, and her head turned toward me. She pivoted, claws half-extended. We met in the middle of the chamber, like two explosions colliding.
Her claws hit my Mantle-covered axe.
The impact made the crimson Aura ripple like cloth in a storm, roaring with a thousand voices. The walls trembled. I felt the sting even through the Mantle. Even her sharp claws failed to cut through my weapon that was reforged by the mysterious Lady Nezehra, but the aura in her claws was powerful enough that my skin burned from the pressure.
My eyes met hers.
Up close, she looked less like a slave and more like a restrained War General. My voice was low as I warned, "Pick someone your own size, panther.”
Her collar pulsed, but I had a feeling she moved on her own now. “You’re strong, Valtherian. I wanted to fight you,” she muttered.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Ragna staggered behind me, hand on her neck, eyes furious in annoyance. She wasn’t dead but she’d been close enough that it bothered her to be saved by me. Her face was tight, jaw working like she’d bitten into something rotten.
My fight with Amara was much more intense, and on the side, three other slaves jumped Ragna, who roared and took up the fight.
I was burning Aura like tissues on a fire, spamming my skills, but it was showing results. Amara was getting pushed back. If this were a real fight she’d have fought harder, but then I’d have taken her head by now.
Well, maybe. I wasn’t sure how strong she really was, and if I’d manage to win if we fought for real. Regardless, it wouldn’t have been an easy fight.
My eyes flicked to Ilyra. She stood a few steps back, watching. Her face was tight. Her jaw worked like she was chewing something bitter. She looked at the Mantle, the roaring Aura that could bring down this floor of the dungeon if I really wanted. Her eyes flicked to Veric next.
I saw the exact moment she realized she was going to be blamed no matter what. She clicked her tongue. "Enough of this."
She stamped the ground with both feet.
The stone split from wall to wall. Roots erupted across the entire chamber, thicker than anything she'd produced in the upper floors, and they moved with a speed that made the Basilisk look sluggish. They wrapped the creature's legs, its torso, its thrashing tail, and they squeezed.
The half-dead Basilisk screamed, a sound like metal tearing, and then the roots cinched tight and the scream cut short.
Ilyra turned to Elayne and Harlan. Her eyes were cold and bright and done pretending. "Help our Valtherian friends. Keep the slaves alive. Subdue, don't kill."
“I-Ilyra, think through your decision properly!” Veric shouted. “If I don’t get to kill the barbarians today, you’ll pay!”
Elayne ignored the fool’s shouts and drew her sword without hesitation. Sir Harlan unsheathed his blade for the first time since the fight had started.
Took her long enough. I let myself smile. I knew she’d realize the answer soon, that was why I was confident in picking such a fight where I wasn’t certain how strong the enemy party truly was.
Ilyra Marcellis was too smart to let us die and too proud to let Veric win. The moment his stray spell hit Elayne, the equation changed. She wasn't protecting barbarians anymore. She was defending her own people from an aggressor who'd drawn first blood against House Marcellis.
That was a story she could sell to any court in Ethenia.
It did annoy me a little that she’d taken this long to help us, but I’d gone against her orders too so I’d count that even. I was curious about the talk we’d have after this.
I felt the shift when Sir Harlan entered the battlefield. Harlan was a blur as he moved past Amara and me and went toward the wolfman, and his first strike wasn't an attack but a bind, catching the wolfman's blade and redirecting it into the floor with a twist that spoke of forty years of muscle memory.
The wolfman tried to disengage and Harlan followed him like a shadow, his movements designed to exhaust rather than wound.
With Harlan handling the wolfman and Elayne pressing the remaining slaves back, the board had cleared. Ragna had freed herself from the other slaves and was instead shielding the paralyzed girl on the ground.
“Amara, come back!” Veric shouted, and Amara disengaged from me to stand guard over her master. He’d realized things weren’t looking good.
The Basilisk was dying in Ilyra's roots. Only one obstacle remained now. I slowly walked toward Veric.
Amara shifted to intercept as Veric ordered her to protect him with her life. Her gold eyes tracked me and her claws slid out fully, each one catching the orange light. They were black at the base and gold at the tips, and they hummed with a frequency I could feel in my teeth.
I stared at her.
She's two Ascensions above me. I think I’m physically stronger, but she's much faster, and her claws can carve through dungeon stone like wet clay.
Our earlier clash was flashy, but neither of us was using killing moves. But now that Veric was feeling truly cornered, he’d give solid urgent orders.
Amara wouldn’t be able to hold back now. I looked at her collar. Then I looked at her eyes. "You don't have to do this," I said.
The collar pulsed brighter, she scoffed. "I wish, Valtherian," she said. Three words. The most honest thing anyone had said in that chamber.
Then the collar flared red and she came at me. I activated [Storm Call].
Lightning crackled across my skin and the air around me ionized, filling the chamber with the sharp scent of ozone cutting through sulfur. It was quite the sight as it mixed with the Mantle of Valteria, which I was keeping restrained. If I used it to its full power, not only would it burn through my Aura in a minute, it’d also make the chamber unstable.
So, I decided to mix it with Storm Call, giving it a different flavor of danger. Amara's first swipe came at my throat and I ducked under it, feeling wind tug at my hair.
Her claws hit the wall behind me. Four trenches formed once again, each one a foot deep, carved through solid volcanic rock like it was bread. Stone dust rained down.
Yeah. Those would go through my skull without slowing down. Probably.
I didn’t want to risk it. I rolled sideways and swung my axe at her midsection. She caught the blade between two fingers and stopped it cold. The impact jarred my shoulders. She flicked my wrist and I had to let go or lose my arms.
My axe clattered across the stone.
Unarmed against a 7th Ascension. The fight was getting interesting. I took a boxing stance. I didn't need the axe, not really. I suddenly had an idea.
"Hey, Veric!" I shouted past Amara's shoulder. "Your friend Lothar. Does he know you scream like that? Because I've heard brothel girls have more dignity."
It was crude and stupid and it worked perfectly. I knew people like him. Veric's face twisted with rage. "You filthy savage! Amara, tear his arms off! Do it NOW!"
“Are you stupid?” Amara asked as her collar blazed. She lunged.
“Ragna!” I shouted and dodged. Then I activated [Thunderclap Crash].
I launched upward with the help of the Mantle, not at Amara but over her, the concussive burst of lightning and wind slamming into the ground beneath me and throwing her off-balance for a single second. Ragna understood my command and engaged against Amara with a wide grin, her wounds having closed.
Without anyone to stop me, I sailed over her head, and for one clear moment I could see Veric below me, eyes wide, crossbow half-raised, mouth open in a scream that hadn't formed yet.
My lips were wide, and I could see my teeth reflecting in his eyes.
Veric was scared shitless, and he had every reason to be. I turned off the Mantle since it was starting to hurt and landed in front of him.
“B-back off! Amara, everyone, come help me!” He shouted but everyone was engaged and busy. Ragna took a deep gash but didn’t let Amara follow me.
As a last-ditch effort, Veric fired his crossbow point-blank at me.
The bolt hit my chest and [Elemental Fury] caught it, lightning dancing along the shaft and detonating it into splinters before it could penetrate. Not that it could penetrate. The fragments stung but didn't cut.
Veric stumbled backward until his shoulders hit the wall. His hands glowed with one last concussive burst, the dregs of his mana pool, and he threw it at my face.
I walked through it. The blast hit me and it was as gentle as rain. The storm aura waves it off easily. I kept walking.
"Amara! Amara take your beast form, RUSH BACK TO ME!" Veric's voice cracked. Tears were forming. "AMARA! SAVE ME! KILL HIM!"
Behind me, I felt something shift, like bone cracking and something reforming, as a beast let out a roar. Amara had listened to his order, and the panther beast was trying to disengage. The collar's compulsion was absolute for a direct command.
As a beast, possibly stronger now, she broke free from Ragna using her incredible speed and launched herself at my back, right hand extended, claws aimed at my left eye.
My head turned slightly, and I saw the massive black panther coming. Dragon's Eye did a wonderful job tracking her movement as I poured more Aura into my eyes. I calculated the distance, the speed, and the time I had left.
Barely any time.
So I shifted on my feet, my waist twisted, and my fist curled. I dodged the extended claw, ducking down, and my knuckles slammed against the rushing panther’s nose as I used her speed against her.
It was like an explosion, as she was sent skidding across the hallway and hitting a wall that I couldn’t even see from here.
“Ak–!” Veric whimpered in shock. I turned toward him, taking a step.
Roots shot up from the ground to stop me from grabbing Veric. Thick as rope, climbing high to stop me. One last attempt to prevent the political catastrophe she saw coming.
"Thorvyn, DON'T!"
I looked down at the roots. Then I looked at Ilyra.
"Lady Ilyra, my decision has been made. Try better if you want to stop me.”
[Storm Call] shifted from lightning to fire. Heat exploded from my skin, slamming into the growing wall. I poured Aura into it, making the effect stronger. The roots blackened, smoked, and crumbled to ash in less than a second.
Ilyra flinched like she'd been slapped.
Now she knows I wasn’t joking when I said I can burn her down. I took the last step. My axe was gone, but I didn't need it for a weakling like Veric.
I grabbed Veric Ashton by his hand, my hands clasping around his head, lifting him off the ground. His feet kicked. His hands clawed at my wrist. His eyes bulged with the sudden, animal understanding that no one was coming to save him.
Behind me, Amara was rushing toward me again, back to her human form. Her claws cut the air with a sound like tearing silk, aimed at the back of my skull.
“AMARA, AMARA, SAVE ME! AMARA QUICK, QUICKLY KI-”
“Ragna,” I called without looking. My eyes watched Veric’s. “Watch.”
Barbaric strength surged through my grip. Veric didn’t even have time to scream. His skull bent under my fingers, cracking, and then it burst. Bone, blood, and grey matter sprayed the dungeon wall in a wet blossom, like a watermelon dropped from a tower.
What was left of him went slack in my hand. But–
Amara was right in front of me.
Her claws stopped one inch from my left eye. The collar on her neck flickered once. Twice. Then it died.
I could feel the heat of her claws. The displaced air tickled my eyelash. One inch. Maybe less. Close enough that if I blinked hard, my eyelid would touch the tip.
Neither of us breathed.
Why isn’t she backing off? Does the command remain even after the master dies? I was feeling confused when the gold light faded from her fingers.
Her arm trembled, not from effort but from the sudden, shocking absence of compulsion. For the first time in however long she'd worn that collar, nothing was telling her body what to do.
She stared at my eye. I stared at her claw.
"You can put that down now," I said quietly.
Her hand lowered. Slowly. Like she'd forgotten how to move without being ordered. I let Veric’s body drop. It hit the stone with a wet thud and didn’t move again.
[You’ve slain a Level 32 Human.]
[You’ve earned experience points.]
[You’ve leveled up!]
[You’ve reached Level 59.]
[Class Draconis Stormborn has Levelled Up!]
[You’ve unlocked a new Class Skill!]
===
Passive: [Electromagnetic Attunement]
- Your Aura connects with the world’s constant electromagnetic currents, letting you sense living presences and movement through subtle distortions without emitting detectable lightning.
- With focus and relying on the skill [Actively], you can pick out rough positions, and pre-attack tells like rising heartbeats, shifting steel, and muscle tension.
- Category: Enhanced Perception / Elemental Sense
===
Notifications flashed before my eyes, and I was a little surprised at the change in my perception. The world buzzed…?
I decided to study the skill later, given the situation at hand. I waved off the notifications. Across the chamber, every slave collar had gone dark at once.
The wolfman’s sword slipped from his fingers and rang against the floor. Harlan stepped back and let him be. Two slaves sank to their knees. The ox-woman pressed her forehead to the ground, chanting prayers, and her massive shoulders shook without sound.
The scarred man with the mace sat down where he stood and began to cry. It was a quiet and steady sound, like a faucet that had been sealed for years and finally rusted through.
The Basilisk, still pinned in Ilyra’s roots, gave one last shudder and went still. Whether she’d killed it or it bled out, I didn’t know. Didn’t matter.
The chamber was quiet.
Veric Ashton lay dead on the dungeon floor. His expensive armor was still pristine. His face was frozen in an expression that hadn’t finished becoming a scream.
I looked at my hand. Then I looked at Ilyra.
She stood where she’d been, both fists clenched at her sides. Her face cycled through fury, fear, calculation, and something that might have been relief before settling on exhaustion.
“You burned my roots,” she said.
“I told you I could do it, you didn’t believe me.”
She gave me a dry stare. She also looked really angry.
This is a bonus chapter, guys. Another comes out tomorrow as per the usual schedule. I had to fit Nectar's shout-out somewhere, so had to do a bonus. You can thank him by giving his book a chance :)
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