Malvorn's thoughts were a frantic storm beneath the placid surface of his Magnitude Zero control.
They were dying.
Draven—bearer, friend, family—was surrounded by corruption and beasts. Fighting desperately. Exhausted. Lord-tier power insufficient against endless waves. Stormfang was heavy in his hands. The Genesis Codex barrier was flickering.
The pack was exhausted. Zor's lightning was sputtering. Velnar's movements were slowing. Sylvara's petals were thinning. Feyra's size shifts were stuttering. All of them fighting beyond their limits. Dying by inches.
Six hundred humans were trapped. Civilians screaming. Children crying. Four zones converging. Corruption spreading. Endless. Unstoppable.
And Malvorn stood at Magnitude Zero. Restrained. Controlled. Careful. Because unleashing his true power meant collateral damage. Meant killing those he protected. Meant becoming the threat instead of the guardian.
But watching them die while he restrained? Unacceptable.
The bond pulled. Deep. Primal. Overwhelming. Not just the Genesis Codex connection. Family.
Draven saved him. Taught control when madness beckoned. Offered partnership when execution loomed. Treated the twenty-five-story earth-element Overlord as an equal.
And now that human who saved Malvorn's life, sanity, and future fought desperately, on the verge of being overwhelmed.
Every protective instinct Malvorn possessed screamed. He was a planetary anchor. A guardian. His family was dying.
Magnitude Zero restriction meant nothing if they died because he had obeyed it.
The decision crystallized. Simple. Absolute. Inevitable.
Save them. Consequences secondary.
Malvorn's Magnitude Zero flickered. Intentional. Controlled. But rising.
His earth communion extended. Not sensing anymore. Commanding. The planet responded eagerly. Waiting for the Overlord's will. Ready to reshape. Ready to save.
"Everyone hold on," Malvorn rumbled. His voice carried over the chaos with absolute authority. Power building. "I'm getting you out. All of you. Now."
Magnitude One. Two. Three.
The earth trembled. Not random shaking. Purposeful. Directed. Malvorn's will made manifest through the planetary connection.
Time to show why Overlords were called planetary anchors. Time to save his family.
The ground beneath Draven's feet didn't tremble; it obeyed.
"What are you—" Draven started, slashing at a fresh corrupted raptor.
The earth split. Not violently, but deliberately. A massive sinkhole opened directly beneath their surrounded position. Twenty meters in diameter. Circular. Perfect.
But it didn't drop them. It created stairs. Carved stone steps spiraling downward into darkness. The earth moved aside like water. Malvorn's Magnitude Two—maybe Three—was reshaping the terrain with surgical precision despite the overwhelming scale.
"Underground passage!" Malvorn's voice boomed, the earth itself carrying the words. "Beneath corruption zones! Move now!"
The tunnel extended. Fifty meters down. One hundred. Two hundred. A clean earth corridor protected by the Overlord's will.
"Everyone into the tunnel!" Draven shouted. "Follow the stairs! Stay together! Move!"
The villagers hesitated, but Zor's lightning-charged shriek as he intercepted a beast attacking from behind decided them. The crowd surged toward the tunnel.
The pack formed a protective perimeter. Velnar anchored the rear, his scorpion form restraining final beasts with earth-assisted webs. Sylvara's petals provided covering fire. Feyra cycled her sizes to guide the civilians. Zor kept the corruption beasts at bay.
Draven stood at the tunnel entrance. Counting. Too chaotic. People were pushing, stumbling, falling. Casualties were mounting not just from the beasts, but from panic, crushing, and exhaustion.
"Keep moving! Almost there! Don't stop!" Draven urged.
Not everyone made it. Draven saw glimpses of the grim toll. Villagers torn apart by corrupted panthers in the final desperate moments. Families separated. Elderly too slow, dying within sight of salvation. He couldn't save everyone.
More casualties occurred inside the tunnel. Some fell from the stairs. Some were trampled in the desperate push forward. This was the cost of desperation.
The tunnel ended. Stairs rising. Daylight ahead. Clean air. No corruption. No mist.
Villagers emerged. Stumbling. Exhausted. Alive. Four hundred? Four hundred fifty? From six hundred starting.
One hundred to one hundred fifty dead. A twenty percent casualty rate. Horrifying.
But eighty percent survived. Saved. Rescued. Protected.
Draven collapsed. Stormfang dropped from numb fingers. Exhaustion was overwhelming. Relief flooded him.
They made it. Most of them made it.
Then—an earthquake. A real one. Powerful. Angry.
Malvorn's fury was unleashed.
Malvorn stood at the tunnel exit. Twenty-five stories of crystalline Overlord. Magnitude Zero was gone. Magnitude Two was inadequate.
Draven nearly died. The pack nearly died. Civilians died. Because the zones still existed.
Rage built. Not mindless. But pure. Focused. Directed.
Target acquired. Zones. Corruption. Beasts. Everything that threatened his family.
The Earth responded. Eager. Ready.
Magnitude Three. Four.
"Everyone stay back," Malvorn rumbled. His voice carried tectonic weight. "I'm... upset."
Malvorn moved. A single step forward. Magnitude Four.
The ground cracked, then shattered. A crater formed beneath his feet—thirty meters deep—just from standing at that power level.
He raised one massive crystalline arm. Pointed toward the zones.
Earthquake.
Not a seismic event. Directed. Controlled fury made manifest. The land between Malvorn and the zones—five hundred meters of jungle—shattered. Trees exploded. Stone pulverized. Everything between the Overlord and the corruption was obliterated in seconds.
Craters formed. Dozens. The landscape was permanently reshaped. Malvorn's anger carved into the planet itself.
The zones fluctuated. Purple-white mist churned violently. Spatial tears trembled. Reality itself was disturbed by the Overlord's fury.
All remaining mutated beasts—every corrupted panther, serpent, raptor—were obliterated. Not killed. Erased. Bodies pulverized by tectonic force.
Magnitude Four held for five seconds. Five seconds of planetary-scale fury. Five seconds of devastation. Then—it stopped. Magnitude dropping. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero.
Silence. Absolute.
The dust settled. Destruction was revealed. The terrain was unrecognizable.
But the zones? Still there. The mist was stabilizing. The spatial tears were steady again. Corruption resumed its normal expansion.
Malvorn's Magnitude Four fury—power that reshaped terrain and obliterated beasts—merely disrupted the zones temporarily. It didn't close them. It didn't stop them.
The cosmic-level problem was confirmed. Even Overlord power was insufficient.
Malvorn stood silent, staring at the zones that survived his fury. Frustration was visible. Helplessness against the impossible problem.
The pack approached slowly.
"I would have done the same," Zor said simply, his lightning dim now. "Family protects family. You protected us."
"Rage for endangered loved ones is not weakness," Velnar clicked. "It is love made manifest."
"We're alive because you broke restrictions," Sylvara added gently. "Don't regret protecting those you love."
Feyra, in her tiny one-foot form, climbed onto Malvorn's foot. "Thank you for saving Draven. For saving all of us."
Behind them, the villagers watched. Awestruck. Terrified. Grateful. Confused. They had witnessed true Overlord power unleashed. And they had seen that titan call a human "friend."
Draven stood slowly. Exhaustion made movement difficult, but Malvorn needed him.
He walked toward the silent Overlord.
"Malvorn," Draven called gently, the bond amplifying his voice.
The Overlord's attention shifted downward. Magnitude Zero absolute, but the emotion was raw.
"I understand," Draven said simply, sitting on a chunk of rubble. "You saw family threatened. Protective rage overwhelmed caution. You chose us."
Malvorn's crystalline form lowered, controlled and precise.
"I almost lost you," Malvorn rumbled quietly. "Couldn't just watch. Couldn't restrain while family died."
"And because you didn't restrain, we survived," Draven replied. "Four hundred fifty people alive. Because you chose family over caution."
"But not everyone," Malvorn said heavily. "One hundred to one hundred fifty died. I felt them."
Draven nodded. Grief was visible. "Fifty to a hundred during the beast assault. Another fifty during the evacuation—panic, crushing, exhaustion. It hurts. It always does. But you're more than a weapon. You're family."
The villagers gathered. Hesitant, but determined.
An elderly woman, a village elder, stepped forward. "We don't know how to thank you. You rescued us when death was certain. We lost loved ones, yes, but all would have died without you."
"That's all we can ever do," Draven replied gently. "Save who we can. Mourn who we couldn't. Keep fighting so fewer die tomorrow."
"Are you..." A young voice. Kael, the hunter, pushed through the crowd. "Are you the Chainbreaker? From Bloomring? The one who freed the beasts?"
Draven met Kael's eyes.
"Yes," Draven confirmed simply. "I'm Draven. The Chainbreaker. These are my bonded pack—Zor, Velnar, Sylvara, Feyra, and Malvorn. We investigate corruption zones. Try to protect people."
Kael's eyes widened. "The Chainbreaker. Here. Real. You command titans. You're a legend walking."
"I'm an exhausted human who needs rest," Draven corrected tiredly. "Legend can wait. Survival comes first."
They traveled through the jungle. Slow. Careful. Exhausted.
Malvorn led, Magnitude Zero, his earth communion sensing threats and finding a safe path. Draven walked beside the massive Overlord, the Genesis Codex maintaining autonomous protection. The pack flanked the survivors in a protective formation.
"There is a town eight kilometers northeast," Malvorn reported. "Safe from the current zones. I sense no corruption nearby."
"Why did so many corrupted beasts appear here?" Sylvara asked, walking beside Draven.
"Southern Wild," Velnar answered. "Densest beast population on Theia. Millions of beasts concentrated in the jungle. When a zone spawns, local wildlife gets corrupted immediately."
"The continuous mutations I detected," Malvorn confirmed. "Every minute, more beasts wandering into the corruption. Endless supply as long as the jungle provides wildlife."
"It's a perfect storm," Draven muttered grimly. "Biological anomalies accelerate mutations. Dense jungle provides cover. Massive beast population ensures a constant supply of victims. The crisis compounds itself."
They arrived at Thornhaven Town. The town guards saw the Overlord, the Lord-tier pack, and the exhausted survivors. Weapons lowered. Understanding was immediate.
"We need shelter for four hundred fifty people," Draven called out. "Village destroyed by corruption zones. Survivors need food, water, rest. Please help them."
The town elder assessed the situation rapidly. "Bring them in. We'll make room. Greenhaven survivors. We feared the worst."
Draven collapsed against a building. Exhausted completely. The pack sat around him. All drained. All alive.
Malvorn stood nearby. Guardian still. Magnitude Zero absolute.
"We did it," Feyra whispered, her tiny form curled beside Draven. The green roses were wilted but slowly regrowing. "Saved them. Most of them."
"Yes," Draven agreed, his eyes closing. "Not everyone. Never everyone. But... enough. We saved enough."
Exhausted relief flooded him. Sleep came mercifully.
They survived. The civilians survived. The crisis continued.
But today? Today they proved family was stronger than corruption.
Rest earned. Sleep deserved.
Alive. Together. Family.
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