Day sixty-four. Late afternoon. The jungle was dense around them as they traveled south.
Malvorn stopped suddenly. His Magnitude Zero was so precisely controlled it caused no tremors, but the earth communion he felt was urgent, causing his crystalline form to subtly flicker.
"Another zone detected," he said. "Large. Maybe three hundred meters in diameter. Approximately two kilometers ahead."
Draven nodded. "That makes six zones in three days. Raziel was right—the Southern Wild has the highest mutation rates. Zones are appearing faster here than anywhere."
"But this one feels different," Malvorn continued, his features focused. "The spatial signature isn't isolated. It's overlapping. Multiple tears close together. And..." He paused. "Life signatures detected. Human life signatures. Lots of them. Inside the corruption boundary."
Silence. The pack understood immediately.
"A village," Sylvara whispered, the leaves of her druid form rustling with alarm. "Trapped inside a zone."
"Or surrounded by multiple zones converging," Velnar added grimly, his scorpion form clicking his massive legs with ancient concern, though a flicker of war-hungry eagerness was visible in his posture.
Draven's jaw tightened. "How many people?"
"Hundreds. Maybe five to eight hundred based on the settlement size my communion detects. All concentrated in a single location. Elevated structures. Still alive currently. But the zones are expanding."
"We have to help them," Feyra said immediately, her white fur bristling and the green roses on her body rustling with agitation. There was no hesitation.
"Agreed," Draven confirmed. "We can't leave hundreds of people trapped in expanding corruption. Even if evacuation is dangerous."
Zor circled overhead, purple lightning crackling along his black feathers as he assessed from an aerial view. "The corruption surrounds the village on three sides. The fourth side is still clear but narrowing. If the zones continue expanding at the normal rate, that escape route closes within hours."
"So we evacuate now," Draven decided. "Before the window closes completely. Malvorn, can you create a safe path through the zones?"
"Difficult but possible," Malvorn assessed. "My earth manipulation can raise barriers. Create a protected corridor. But if corrupted beasts attack during the evacuation..."
"We handle them," Draven said firmly. "You focus on terrain control. No direct fighting—your power would kill the villagers through collateral damage. Just restrain the beasts, create barriers, protect the civilians. We'll do the killing."
Malvorn nodded. "Understood. Support only. Magnitude Zero maintained. Precision over power."
"Pack?" Draven looked at his four Lord-tier companions.
"Ready," they confirmed together. Family unified. Mission clear.
"Then let's move. Fast. People are dying while we plan."
They ran. The pack moved through the jungle at Lord-tier speed. Malvorn kept pace, his twenty-five-story body passing with impossible grace, trees bending aside carefully to avoid destruction.
Two kilometers were covered in minutes. A clearing ahead revealed the village of Greenhaven. A small farming community built on elevated platforms spanning three massive ancient trees.
It was horrifying now.
Purple-white mist surrounded the village on three sides. Three separate zones converging like closing jaws. The eastern route was still clear but visibly narrowing.
And there was screaming. Villagers screaming. Fighting. Dying.
Corrupted beasts were already inside the settlement.
"We're too late to prevent the attack," Zor observed grimly, lightning crackling urgently along his wings. "But not too late to save the survivors. Go!"
---
Everything happened so fast.
The purple mist appeared two days ago. Then the beasts came. Corrupted. Mutated. Wrong.
Kael was a hunter, twenty years old. He had killed jungle predators, even a King-tier panther once. But these beasts were different. Stronger. Faster. Elite-tier panther with King-tier strength tore through the wooden platform like paper. Claws ripped through three hunters before anyone reacted.
Another corrupted serpent coiled around a support pillar, crushing it. Platforms were collapsing. Families were falling fifty feet. Breaking.
The village militia was fighting desperately, but nothing worked. Everyone was dying. Trapped. Hopeless.
Then—an earthquake.
The ground shook. Controlled. Purposeful. The earth moved like a living thing.
Trees parted. Something massive was coming.
Then Kael saw him. Twenty-five stories tall. Crystalline body. Earth-element energy radiating like physical pressure. Moving with impossible grace.
An Overlord.
Kael had never seen an Overlord. Village tales spoke of King-tier as the maximum. Legends of ancient beasts reaching that height. But this? This was beyond comprehension.
The titan stopped at the village edge. He did not attack. He just existed. Overwhelming. Terrifying.
And riding on its shoulder—a human. Young man. Looking at the carnage with determination.
Four beasts stood beside the titan. Lord-tier.
Zor, the Thunder Raven—black feathers crackling with purple lightning. Velnar, the Ancient Scorpion—massive, dark exoskeleton glowing with red-orange veins. Sylvara, the Forest Spirit—humanoid form with an antler crown and green flowing robes. Feyra, the White Fox—small but radiating power, green roses blooming across her fur.
Kael's mind couldn't process. Power this great defending humans? Impossible. Everything Kael knew was wrong.
Draven's Perspective
A corrupted panther lunged at a fleeing family.
"Malvorn!" Draven commanded.
Earth erupted. Precise. Stone restraints wrapped around the panther mid-leap, locking its legs and immobilizing its body.
Draven jumped from Malvorn's shoulder. His Genesis Codex cushioned the landing. Stormfang was drawn, lightning crackling along the blade.
The beast was restrained. It couldn't dodge. Draven struck. Fast. Precise. Stormfang through the neck. The Thunder Strike charge was released. Magnitude three shockwave. The beast's nervous system fried instantly.
Clean kill. Merciful. The body dissolved.
The family was alive. Staring. Unable to comprehend a human killing a King-tier-strength beast in a single strike, with the help of a titan.
"Run east!" Draven shouted. "Escape route still clear! Go!"
They ran, terror overwhelming awe.
---
"Malvorn, corridor!" Draven commanded, engaging a second corrupted beast.
The earth responded. Magnitude One briefly—a controlled burst. Ground rose on both sides of the eastern escape route. Walls formed, ten feet high and twenty feet wide. A protected corridor stretched two hundred meters toward the clear jungle.
"Everyone move! Follow the corridor! Stay between the walls! Run!"
Chaos. Panic. But movement. Families, hunters, the elderly—everyone flooding toward the escape route.
Corrupted beasts attacked, desperate to reach the fleeing civilians. The pack intercepted.
Zor took aerial dominance, his black feathers trailing purple lightning. Electrical strikes hit a corrupted serpent trying to climb the corridor wall, stunning it and buying time for Malvorn's earth to seal the gap.
Velnar anchored the ground defense. The Ancient Scorpion positioned himself at the corridor entrance. Web-like earth restraints—his specialized technique—snared a corrupted raptor mid-charge. The beast was trapped. Draven finished it with Thornblade through the brain. Quick. Silent.
Sylvara provided ranged support. Flower magic bloomed from her druid form. Petal projectiles—glowing green with nature energy—shredded a corrupted panther. She wasn't killing alone, but weakening and slowing the beasts.
Feyra used tactical flexibility. Her size manipulation cycled rapidly. Eight feet tall—blocking a charge with sheer mass. Then shrinking to one foot—darting between legs, severing tendons with rose-thorn claws sharpened by her Life element. Disabling rather than killing. The five fought as a single organism.
A corrupted panther broke through Velnar's web. It charged Draven.
Stormfang met the charge. The thunder element conducted through the beast, seizing its muscles. A second precise strike severed the leg tendons. The King-tier vitality struggled. Thornblade finished it, the life drain activating as the rare-tier dagger pierced the brain. Mercy kill.
The Warden's Mantle saved Draven seconds later. A massive serpent lunged at his back. The enchantment activated automatically: Warden's Aegis. A Lord-tier shield manifested, deflecting the fangs. The sixty-second cooldown began immediately.
Draven rolled. He came up slashing. Stormfang through the serpent's exposed throat. The stored Thunder Strike detonated. Magnitude three shockwave. The serpent's head exploded. Dead.
One charge remained. Two more beasts were visible. He needed to conserve.
The Genesis Codex hovered nearby. Its green-gold glow provided autonomous defense, deflecting smaller, corruption-infused projectiles. Draven was fighting at his absolute peak, the human bearer matching the Lord-tier beasts through equipment, skill, and determination.
---
Kael ran with the crowd, unable to stop watching the battle.
The human fought like an ancient hero. He killed the King-tier-strength beasts efficiently, quickly.
And the Lord-tier beasts with him. The Thunder Raven with lightning. The Scorpion with war-hungry precision. The Forest Druid with petal storms. The White Fox shifting sizes impossibly.
Kael had been taught that King-tier was the maximum. That beasts hated humans. That humans fight alone.
But the Overlord was real. The Lord-tier beasts existed. And they protected humans. They followed the human's command out of choice, not slavery.
Everything Kael knew was wrong. The world was bigger, stranger, and contained a hope he had never imagined.
Final Beasts & New Zone Spawns - Cliffhanger
Three hundred meters cleared. Halfway to safety. Four hundred villagers were through the corridor. Two hundred were still evacuating.
Five, maybe six, corrupted beasts were dead. Stormfang was heavy. Thunder Strikes were depleted. Warden's Aegis was on cooldown. The pack was exhausted—Zor's lightning flickering weakly, Velnar's movements slowing, Sylvara's petals thinning, Feyra's size shifts less smooth. Malvorn maintained the walls, pushing limits.
Just two hundred more meters to clear jungle.
Then—Reality cracked.
Light. Harsh. Wrong. Golden fractures spread through the air ahead. A spatial tear was forming. A new zone was spawning.
"No," Draven whispered. "Not now. Not here."
The tear opened fully: five meters in diameter. Purple-white corruption flooded through, thick and dense. It poured into the jungle like liquid, spreading exponentially.
Escape route blocked. The corridor ahead suddenly filled with mist. Villagers stopped, trapped between the new zone ahead and the old zones behind.
Wildlife caught in the expansion mutated instantly. An Elite-tier jaguar transformed into a King-tier-strength abomination in thirty seconds.
Fresh corrupted beasts. Multiple. All focused on the trapped villagers.
"Malvorn, seal the front!" Draven shouted, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Block the new corruption! Buy time!"
Earth rose, Magnitude One. Walls extended forward, slowing but not stopping the rapidly spreading corruption.
Three new corrupted beasts charged. The pack intercepted. They were tired. Their stamina was draining.
Draven engaged the closest beast. Corrupted jaguar. King-tier strength. He had no charged attacks left. Just the blade.
Stormfang clashed against the mutated claws. Draven exploited the brief stun, driving the blade through the beast's throat. Down.
But two more beasts were coming. The corruption was expanding. The villagers were panicking. The walls were cracking.
"We need to break through!" Draven shouted. "Malvorn, can you collapse the new zone? Close the tear?"
"No!" Malvorn replied, frustration clear even in his controlled voice. "I can't close spatial tears! It requires cosmic-level power!"
Draven assessed the situation rapidly. Tactical mind processing despite the burning exhaustion.
Behind: Three original zones converging. Blocked. Ahead: New zone spawning, expanding fast. Blocked. Left/Right: Dense jungle. Corruption creeping. Dangerous.
They were surrounded. Completely. Two hundred civilians were trapped in a corridor with walls cracking under pressure. The pack was exhausted—Zor's lightning sputtering, Velnar's movements labored, Sylvara's magic fading, Feyra barely holding size. Draven's weapons were depleted. Malvorn's support was stretched to the limit.
And fresh corrupted beasts still came. Mutating continuously. An endless supply.
"Ideas?" Draven asked the pack. Desperate. Grasping.
Silence. No one had an answer.
The corruption expanded. The walls cracked. Beasts charged.
And Draven realized with a final, sinking certainty: They might not survive this.
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