The Festering Alpha raised its head, unleashing a harrowing howl that cut through the fading sounds of battle as Lucky's Legion brought an end to the Whispering Legion.
Its howl sent a tremble through the souls of all who heard it, forcing the Awakened to clutch their ears and for Lauri to be more specific.
"No, you idiot! Don't use your soul-rending howl, go tear it apart with your claws and fangs."
Lauri gestured wildly at the Whispering King. The Festering Alpha moved.
Feeling eyes on the back of his head, Lauri turned around to see his team staring at him.
Clearing his throat, Lauri raised his arms, trying to give his most defensive smile.
"Did I forget to mention I got an Echo when I killed the Festering Alpha? No… Yes?"
----
The Festering Alpha's massive form bounded across the snow, each step shaking the frozen ground as it charged directly toward the opposing Tyrant. Thick blood and pus sprayed from its ruined body as the grotesque beast hurled itself forward. Across from it, mist continued leaking from the wound Danse's Aspect had torn through the Whispering King's torso.
The Whispering King raised its sword in both hands, ancient steel angling toward the oncoming monstrosity as it prepared to meet the Alpha head-on.
As the Festering Alpha reached the Whispering King, it made no attempt to engage in swordplay – instead, the rotten hound raised its massive forearms and hurled its entire grotesque body forward like a living battering ram.
The Whispering King reacted, its blade flashing downward in a precise counterattack – but the resulting wound did not distract the Alpha from its target. It smashed into the Tyrant with overwhelming weight and momentum, throwing the Whispering King completely off balance as both creatures crashed violently into the frozen ground.
The frozen dirt shattered beneath them as the two Tyrants rolled through the snow and broken earth in a frenzy of claws, steel, rot, and mist.
The Whispering King angled its blade, its sword plunging deep into the Festering Alpha's side. One strike became three, the ancient blade carving devastating wounds through the Alpha's underside and deep into its body. Intestines ruptured, ribs fractured, thick blood, pus, and chunks of ruined flesh exploded outward across the snow as the sword tore mercilessly through the grotesque creature's body. Such wounds would have been enough to outright kill most opponents. The damage was horrific – fatal to almost anything else.
But the Festering Alpha simply ignored it.
The ruined flesh around the wounds immediately began to writhe and squirm, swollen tissue stitching itself back together in nauseating pulses. Broken ribs shifted audibly back into place beneath layers of regenerating meat while strands of flesh stretched across the open gashes, desperately reconnecting themselves.
As the Whispering King prepared to drive its sword again into the mut's body, the Festering Alpha suddenly convulsed.
Its ragged breathing hitched violently, chest swelling unnaturally as a deep wet gurgling noise rose from somewhere inside its ruined body. The sound grew louder and louder, thick and bubbling, like something rotting deep within its throat was forcing its way upward.
Then it wretched.
A torrent of foul pus erupted from the creature's maw in a pressurised stream, blasting across the Whispering King at point-blank range. The vile filth splattered over its armour in thick waves, coating the Tyrant in yellow-white sludge that reeked of rot and decay. Chunks of half-liquefied flesh and blackened blood mixed into the disgusting flood as it poured over the Whispering King's body.
The Whispering King attempted to resist the flood of vile filth, but something strange occurred as the fluids fell into the gaping wound within the King's chest.
Lauri felt it first; a wave of pained anguish flooded through his mind so suddenly and violently that he nearly staggered. Instinctively, he called upon [Well of Light], forcing radiant light through his soul to resist the intrusion before it could overwhelm him completely.
It was a scream, the Whispering King was screaming in pain. Its voice filtering into the minds of those around it.
Drawing its knees sharply to its chest, the Whispering King planted both feet against the Festering Alpha's bloated underside – then it pushed.
The rotten mutt was blasted off the Tyrant entirely, its grotesque body folding around the impact before being hurled high into the air. Blood, pus, and loose chunks of flesh sprayed through the air as the Festering Alpha spun violently upward, launched dozens of metres away by the sheer power behind the strike.
Having finally finished off the remaining Pawns and Rooks, whatever Echoes still remained of Lucky's Legion descended upon the Tyrant all at once as it leapt back onto its feet.
The battlefield erupted as monstrous forms lunged at the King. Talons, fangs, weapons, and distorted limbs crashed toward the Whispering King in a chaotic wave, each Echo throwing itself at the Tyrant without hesitation.
A massive ursine Echo slammed into its side while another creature wrapped around one of the King's arms. Humanoid Echoes surged in behind them, hacking and clawing at the ancient armour as flying abominations dove from above in shrieking swarms.
Just less than two hundred of Lucky's Echoes remained, and even that was barely enough to slow the Corrupted Tyrant.
The Whispering King tore through the horde of Nightmare Creatures with horrifying efficiency. Its sword flashed in sweeping arcs, carving Echoes apart faster than they could throw themselves at it. Bodies exploding into blue sparks as their attacks fell against their foes' armour.
Void of a sense of self-preservation, even as they were cut down in their masses, the Echoes did not stop.
They continued to descend upon it from every direction, piling onto the Whispering King in a relentless wave of fury. Massive beasts crashed into it from the side while smaller Echoes clung to its limbs, its back, desperately attempting to damage it.
For a brief moment, the Corrupted Tyrant vanished beneath the swarm entirely.
----
'We can't beat this thing…'
[Your Echo has been destroyed.]
[Your Echo has been destroyed]
[Your Echo has been destroyed.]
[Your Echo has been destroyed]
[Your Echo has been destroyed.]
[Your Echo has been destroyed]
Lucky watched from a distance, reeling beneath the relentless flood of notifications from the Spell as his Echoes were destroyed one after another.
'It's too strong, maybe if we had ten, or a hundred Captains. Then maybe we'd be able to kill it, but as it stands… We're all going to die here, if only we could… I don't know, contain it? No, Captain already tried to bind it, and then his chains only lasted seconds.'
Scowling, Lucky thought about firing an arrow to attempt to help his Echoes, but decided it would be futile. Dismissing his bow and arrows to try and regain some essence, Lucky frowned.
'We need some way of taking the Whispering King out of the fight entirely…'
Blue sparks erupted constantly as Lucky's Legion were cut apart faster than he could count. Each death echoed through Lauri's mind like a hammer strike, the Spell indifferently announcing their destruction without pause.
Yet through the chaos, he noticed something.
Even the Echoes attacks were ultimately futile – the Whispering King was slaughtering them in droves – the sheer weight of their numbers was beginning to make itself known. The seemingly endless tide of Echoes kept crashing into the Tyrant from every direction, forcing it to continuously brace itself, shove creatures aside, and cut through the bodies just to maintain a semblance of footing.
And slowly, the Whispering King happened to be pushed backwards.
Step by step, closer and closer toward the location where the Seventh Bridge had been not too long ago, before Lauri had struck it down.
Lucky's eyes widened suddenly before a grin spread across his face.
"I've got… I've got an idea!"
Without waiting for permission, he grabbed Katrina by the arm and pulled her forward toward the battlefield.
Katrina squeaked in surprise as Lucky seized her hand and dragged her along behind him.
"L-Lucky!? What do you think you're doing!? This isn't the time for–"
She cut herself off as Lucky suddenly stopped and turned to face her.
Taking both of Katrina's hands in his own, he looked directly into her eyes. Even amidst the chaos happening behind them, with explosions, screams, and the roars of the Echoes, Lucky radiated absolute confidence.
"Katrina."
Lucky said firmly.
"I need you to trust me. When I give you the signal. Hit the ground, hit the ground with all your might, put all your essence into it. I don't think we're going to get another shot at this!"
Katrina faltered beneath his gaze.
A bright blush spread rapidly across her cheeks as she awkwardly looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes directly.
"Al-alright… Just say when…"
She muttered.
His smile beaming brighter than any star, he turned and immediately started pulling Katrina forward with him once more.
----
The Whispering King had grown tired of the swarm smothering it, unleashing its mental assault upon the surrounding Echoes.
An invisible wave of psychic pressure exploded outward from the Tyrant. Most of Lucky's Echoes froze instantly as the whispers washed over them, the weakest ones immediately succumbing, their bodies disappearing. Only a handful managed to resist the attack, and even fewer were simply immune to it.
Those that managed to remain standing and attempt to impede the Whispering King's path, were met personally.
It burst forward in a blur of dull silver and mist, its blade flashing through the immobilised horde with terrifying speed. The few Echoes strong enough to endure the mental assault were torn apart, steel carving through flesh and armour alike as blue sparks erupted in its wake.
Then, having broken through the swarm entirely, the Tyrant dashed toward the ravine's edge.
Coming to a stop near the ravine's edge, the Whispering King looked across the abyss toward its remaining legion. Hundreds of thousands of Pawns and Rooks stood silently in the distance, waiting patiently for their lord's command under the clouded night sky. Then its gaze slowly drifted downward toward the fractured edge of the ravine.
It turned back to face its foes once more.
For a moment, it was as if everything stilled.
Then it raised its sword in both hands.
The ancient blade lifted, rising higher and higher until it loomed above its head. The Tyrant angled its body slightly, settling into a stance that felt less like preparation for another attack – and more like the final declaration of one.
A wave of instinctive dread swept across the battlefield; each Irregular felt it at once as something within its depths reacted to the Whispering King's stance.
A faint glow at first – barely perceptible beneath the crushing darkness.
Then suddenly, a bright cyan light ignited far below, lighting up the world as if a new sun had been born within its depths.
The glow intensified.
And the darkness below moved.
Mist practically glowing with cyan energy erupted upward in violent, surging torrents, pouring out of the ravine in thick spirals. It did not drift naturally – it surged, racing toward the Whispering King in roaring columns. The air itself began to distort as the mist responded to the Tyrant's presence, as though the mist itself recognised the question of the Tyrant's authority and was quick to answer it.
Endless streams of mist bursting with cyan light were drawn from the depths of the ravine, sprawling toward the Whispering King, drawn irresistibly toward the raised sword. The currents wrapped around the blade faster and faster, compressing into a roaring cyclone of mist that swallowed the weapon's blade almost entirely.
Soon, it no longer looked like the Tyrant was merely holding a sword.
It looked as though a tornado of cyan mist extended upward directly from the hilt – an immense spiral of energy roaring into the sky. The blade was no longer a simple weapon, but the anchor of something far greater.
Lauri's gaze darkened.
'Where is it getting that power from, the souls of its minions that fell into the abyss when I broke the bridge? No, wait…'
In that instant, Lauri realised what was happening.
'Whispering King is calling on the power of the four siege engines I dropped into the ravine!'
The Whispering King moved.
The spiralling mass of blinding cyan mist folded inward on itself, compressing down along the axis of the blade as though reality itself had been forced to obey a single line of motion. Mist and light condensed together, reshaping mid-fall into a singular, elongated edge of destruction.
A blade.
A sweeping arc of condensed mist extended outward from the King's hands as it followed through. The strike was nothing like a physical motion – it was more akin to the world being cut.
The Echoes were the first to be cut by the ethereal blade.
Half of Lucky's remaining Echoes were erased in a single sweep, the blue sparks making up their forms were absorbed by the mist-blade, sucked into it like an insatiable maw. Their forms disintegrating before they ever had a chance to resist the attack.
And still, as the blade passed through the Echoes, it did not stop.
Snow, dirt, stone, and bedrock buried deep beneath the surface of the land were all severed in one continuous motion as the blade carved through the terrain like paper, following the exact trajectory of the swing with impossible fidelity.
The attack that carved into Antarctica was no wider than the shape of the sword itself – no grand expanding wave, no widening arc. It was precise, almost surgical. As if the world had been marked with a single line and told, without exception, to split along it.
The Whispering King's gaze shifted, settling on two approaching figures in the distance.
One was a man with ginger hair tied back into a loose tassel, strands whipping behind him as he ran through the fractured Antarctic battlefield. The other was a woman with black hair bound tightly into a bun, her posture steady despite being pulled forward at speed. The man gripped her hand firmly, dragging her along without hesitation as they pushed straight toward the Tyrant's position.
They were coming directly for it.
Without pause, the Whispering King reacted.
Its blade rose once more.
This time, it did not swing horizontally. It struck upward in a perfect vertical cut – an execution line descending from earth to sky, aimed precisely to intersect their path and erase them both in a single motion.
But something was wrong.
The strike missed.
Not by distance. Not by timing.
By a fraction of an inch.
The mist-blade passed them as though the world had shifted just enough to deny it. The air screamed where the attack should have landed, the force continuing unchecked behind them as the vertical cut carried onward into the landscape.
Mountains in the distance were sliced cleanly apart.
Entire peaks split, collapsing into themselves a heartbeat later as the delayed force of the strike travelled through them.
Yet the man and the woman remained untouched.
It was quite lucky.
Whispering King adjusted its stance immediately, refusing to allow the same mistake to happen twice.
It raised its blade again, this time angling for a horizontal strike – intended to erase everything in a single sweeping line. The air around the sword began to distort as mist gathered once more, compressing into the same sense of suffocating pressure, of an inevitable death.
The swing began.
And just as it was about to complete – the world brightened.
Lauri appeared directly in front of the Whispering King.
His leg was already moving.
It collided squarely with the Whispering King's elbow, the impact reverberating through the Ascended's bones with explosive force – the timing was perfect – the King's arm was wrenched upward by a couple of inches.
That small deviation changed everything.
The horizontal strike missed its intended target entirely. Instead of cutting through the man and woman ahead, the blade carved upward into the empty sky, tearing a glowing arc through the Antarctic night as the mist-blade was dispersed uselessly into the atmosphere.
Lauri didn't give the Whispering King time to recover.
The moment his kick carried through, light flared around him as he re-entered [Light Dash], vanishing and reappearing in rapid succession across the Tyrant's blind spot.
He struck with [Hailrend].
The blade lashed out, mist trailing behind each swing. Lauri aimed not for a clean duel or for measured exchanges – he pressed forward with relentless aggression, each strike intended to disrupt, and force the Whispering King off rhythm.
The Tyrant responded in kind.
Its sword moved like a living extension of its will, intercepting Lauri's attacks with perfect precision. Steel met black ice again and again, each collision sending shockwaves through the frozen air. Where Lauri struck fast and chaotic, the Whispering King answered with terrifying efficiency – blocking, parrying, and countering in the same breathless motion.
But Lauri didn't stop.
He couldn't.
If he gave the Whispering King even a moment, it would be allowed to charge up the power it had received from the siege engines.
Such a scenario was not one Lauri could allow to pass.
They clashed again and again, steel and black ice colliding in a violent rhythm that rattled the frozen air. Every exchange came faster than the last, each one forcing Lauri further onto the defensive as the Whispering King pressed its advantage like a merciless dance.
Then it happened.
The ancient blade slipped through his guard.
There was no dramatic warning – only a sudden, overwhelming shock and the feeling of his left hand going numb. For a split second, Lauri reeled, and then forced his mind to ignore the pain and focus on his enemy. Clenching his teeth so tightly it hurt, Lauri tightened his grip on [Hailrend] with his one good hand.
As the Whispering King took a single, measured step back, Lucky made his move.
He seized Katrina and hurled her forward.
"Now!"
Katrina didn't hesitate.
She raised her mace high above her head, eyes locking onto the ground, and she brought her mace down in a devastating overhead slam.
The instant the weapon struck the ground, Katrina unleashed everything.
All the essence contained within the Awakened's core surged violently into the impact point, amplifying the strike to the absolute limit her Aspect would allow. The ground erupted outward in a concussive wave that tore across the frozen terrain.
The ground ahead of her fractured instantly, long cracks spiderwebbing outward before the entire stone began to shift, groan, and collapse.