novelraw Chapter 113: The Fall of a Monster
Chapter 113: The Fall of a Monster
The moment their fists connected, the world screamed.
A shockwave of raw force ripped outward, tearing through the battlefield like a hurricane. The earth beneath them split apart, jagged fissures racing in all directions. Soldiers on both sides stumbled back, shields raised against the unnatural gale. Even Torvin—Ardania’s strongest knight—ducked behind Ragnarok’s Maw as the sheer force of the impact threatened to flay flesh from bone.
Gregor’s laughter was a distorted, metallic rasp. "Is this all you’ve got, Kael?!"
Kael didn’t answer.
His mind was a storm of calculations, Nexus feeding him real-time data as he struggled to keep pace.
- Combat Analysis: Opponent’s Aether Core fluctuating at 89% stability.
- Warning: Titan’s Leap enhancement still active. Physical parameters exceed safe thresholds.
- Suggested Countermeasure: Force core destabilization. Probability of success: 42%.
’Not good enough.’
Gregor’s fist blurred toward his face. Kael barely twisted in time—the strike grazed his helmet, sending sparks flying as the reinforced plating cracked.
"Barrier integrity at 31%," Nexus reported.
Kael retaliated with a sweeping kick, his boot igniting with arcane fire. The impact sent Gregor skidding back, but the bastard barely flinched. His golem-armored body absorbed the blow like it was nothing.
"You’re still holding back," Gregor taunted. "Still afraid."
Kael’s jaw clenched.
He wasn’t afraid.
He was angry.
Memories flashed—Gregor’s smug face during the war, the way he’d mocked Kael’s weakness, the lives lost because of his schemes. The rage burned hotter, threatening to cloud his judgment.
"Master," Nexus’s voice cut through the haze, calm but urgent. "Emotional interference detected. Your combat efficiency is dropping."
Kael exhaled sharply.
Gregor was baiting him.
And it was working.
He forced his breathing steady, his grip tightening around the nanite-forged blade in his hand.
"I need an edge," he thought. "Something to match his speed."
Nexus responded instantly.
"Accessing spell database... Found. 7th-Class Augmentation Spell: ’Phantom Mirage.’"
A flood of information surged into Kael’s mind—ancient runes, mana pathways, activation sequences. The spell was complex, its structure unlike anything he’d used before.
"Effect: Temporarily enhances speed, agility, and reaction time by 2800%. Duration: 15 minutes. Drawback: Excessive mana consumption. Estimated Aether Core drain: 65%."
Kael’s eyes narrowed.
"Can you reduce the cost?"
"Attempting optimization... Best reduction achievable: 30%. Warning: Spell control will be difficult. Suggest activating Auto-Pilot Protocol."
Gregor lunged again, his fist wreathed in crackling dark energy.
Kael didn’t hesitate.
"Do it."
The world shifted.
One moment, Kael was bracing for impact.
The next—
He was gone.
Gregor’s fist tore through empty air, the force of his strike detonating the ground where Kael had stood. His glowing red eyes flickered in confusion—
Then a blade carved across his back.
Gregor roared as the nanite-edge sliced through his armored plating, sparks erupting from the wound. He whirled, but Kael was already behind him again—his movements a blur, his form flickering like a phantom.
"Auto-Pilot engaged. Neural synchronization at 92%."
Kael’s body moved on its own, Nexus’s precision algorithms guiding every motion. His strikes were flawless—no wasted movement, no hesitation.
Gregor blocked, but Kael was faster.
A kick to his ribs.
A slash across his arm.
A spinning elbow to his jaw.
Each hit landed with surgical precision, forcing Gregor back step by step.
Torvin watched, his grip on Ragnarok’s Maw slackening in disbelief.
"This... This is impossible."
Kael was winning.
Gregor’s Aether Core pulsed erratically, its crimson glow flaring brighter with each passing second. His movements grew sloppier, his counters delayed.
"Core stability dropping," Nexus noted. "Current level: 76%. Continue pressure."
Kael didn’t let up.
He couldn’t.
Phantom Mirage was burning through his reserves—he had minutes left at best.
Gregor snarled, his voice warped by his golem transformation. "You—!"
Kael didn’t let him finish.
He vanished again.
Reappeared above Gregor.
Drove his blade straight toward the pulsing Spirit Crystal in Gregor’s chest.
Gregor barely twisted in time—the strike missed the core but sheared through his shoulder instead. Dark fluid—some grotesque mix of blood and arcane coolant—spilled from the wound.
For the first time, Gregor looked afraid.
His core was destabilizing.
Kael saw it.
So did Nexus.
"Critical opening detected. Execute final strike?"
Kael’s voice was steel.
"Do it."
The Arc Nexus flared to life, nanites surging into overdrive. The blade in Kael’s hand dissolved, reforming into a massive, spiraling lance—its tip crackling with raw Aether.
Gregor’s eyes widened.
He tried to move.
Too slow.
Kael thrust forward—
And the world exploded in light.
The detonation tore through the sky like a dying star, a shockwave of raw Aether ripping outward in a blinding sphere of destruction. The earth trembled. The air itself seemed to scream. Soldiers on both sides were thrown off their feet, shields splintering, armor buckling under the force.
Then—silence.
The light faded, leaving only the faint hum of dissipating energy. The battlefield was frozen, every eye locked onto the sky where the two war machines had clashed.
Kael hovered above them, his obsidian armor glinting in the pale light of dawn. The morning sun painted the shattered landscape in hues of gold and crimson, casting long shadows over the broken earth.
Gregor was gone.
Not a trace remained—no body, no armor, not even the faintest echo of his malevolent presence. Only the lingering scent of scorched ozone and the unnatural stillness of the air.
The Bryndis Army stared up at Kael as if beholding a god. Some fell to their knees, hands pressed to their chests in reverence. Others whispered prayers under their breath, their voices trembling with awe.
On the other side, the Royal Army stood paralyzed.
Lucius Drayford’s face was ashen. His fingers twitched at his sides, his mind racing through calculations, strategies, anything that could salvage this disaster. But there was nothing.
How can we possibly defeat this monster?
Kael descended slowly, his boots touching the scorched earth with eerie grace. His armor retracted, the nanites folding back into the Arc Nexus, leaving him clad only in his reinforced battle robes. He was exhausted—his mana reserves at a critical thirty percent—but he would not show weakness. Not now.
He turned his gaze toward the remnants of the Royal Army, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Surrender now, or face the consequences."
The words carried an unnatural weight, infused with a chilling aura meant to break the will of those who heard it.
Lucius flinched. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms.
’We cannot win this.’
His sister’s face flashed in his mind—her quiet defiance, the way she had glared at him the last time they spoke. She was still under the watch of House Drayford, a hostage to ensure his loyalty. If he surrendered now, what would become of her?
But if he fought...
He glanced at Torvin. The general’s scarred face was unreadable, his grip tight around Ragnarok’s Maw. The sword’s destructive aura flickered, as if sensing its wielder’s hesitation.
Lucius exhaled sharply.
There was no choice.
"Drop your weapons."
His command was quiet, but it carried across the battlefield like a death knell.
One by one, the Royal Army obeyed. Swords clattered to the ground. Shields thudded against the dirt. The sound was deafening in its finality.
Kael watched, his expression unreadable. He had won.
But the war was far from over.
---
Meanwhile – The Royal Capital
Deep within the palace, a shadowed figure stood before a massive crystal orb, its surface swirling with mana.
The explosion—Gregor’s demise—had sent a signal.
A low, rasping chuckle echoed through the chamber.
"So, he failed."
Zarathor’s crimson eyes gleamed with amusement.
"No matter. The game has only just begun."
His clawed fingers traced the surface of the orb, and within its depths, an image flickered to life—a figure clad in black armor, standing victorious over a broken battlefield.
"Kael Bryndis..."
The name dripped with venom.
"Let us see how long your triumph lasts."