The entire fortress went on high alert. The density of Corrupted energy in the air was so suffocating it felt like it could drown anyone. The silver-haired man maintained a serene smile as Thaloren stepped forward. Soldiers trembled; the demihumans, ignoring all orders, had remained inside the fortress. Daion glanced away for an instant and caught sight of Seraphine trembling atop the wall.
The Corrupted let out a guttural sort of laughter, though it was impossible to tell if they were truly laughing—their repulsive sounds were far too ambiguous. The man began to advance, and instinctively, everyone unsheathed their weapons. Even Ken, Amelie, and Marui, despite their severe injuries.
But the man raised both hands. Daion still couldn't grasp what he was. He was certainly a Corrupted being, yet he retained a perfectly human appearance. He wore elegant, almost regal clothing that contrasted with the ominous aura surrounding him.
He stopped directly in front of Thaloren. The pressure in the air became unbearable, as if an alpha god had descended. Thaloren frowned and unleashed a wave of energy that rippled out from his body, slamming violently into the man and the Corrupted. The beasts staggered back, dazed. The man, however, took another step forward, closing the distance until he was face-to-face with him.
At the gate, Aelith watched in terror. Her legs shook, her body on the verge of collapse. Daion wasn't faring much better: injured, drained, he didn't even feel capable of lifting his sword. And then, the man spoke.
"You are the strongest Invoked here, aren't you?" His voice was deep and deliberate, almost solemn, like that of an old man. He shifted his stance slightly and, with a surprising gesture, bowed to Thaloren. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"You're a Corrupted, aren't you?" Thaloren asked bluntly. The deformed monsters stirred, taking a step forward, but the man raised his hand. Immediately, they froze in obedience.
"Yes, I am one of the demons. And don't worry, I'm not here to kill you," he assured calmly, before casting a chilling look over those present. "My followers will not attack."
"And why should I believe you?" Thaloren retorted, his fists tightening. Daion noticed his aura growing, and his eyes caught on the gauntlet: the most complete he had seen, sleek yet covering from hand to shoulder. Only then did he wonder why Thaloren carried no weapon at all.
"Because you're not dead yet," the man replied with a smile. His earth-colored eyes gleamed with amusement. Only then did he seem to notice Daion, scanning him from head to toe. "An Invoked of the Primordial… interesting. Though far too weak to be breaking the rules."
Daion clenched his teeth. Even the most powerful Corrupted still found time to mock him. And yet, he could feel the gaze of the Corrupted standing apart drilling straight into him.
"I don't think you're here just to drink tea. Explain yourself," Thaloren demanded.
"I can't attack you yet," the man replied with theatrical flair, "but I couldn't resist the urge to see the faces of those I'm going to kill. I'm very romantic in that sense." He spoke with delight; a chill ran down Thaloren's spine. "I wanted to see the man who can wipe out entire armies with a single gesture. Though, to be honest, I was expecting something a little more impressive."
"Forgive me for not being two meters tall and built like a bodybuilder," Thaloren mocked. The Corrupted around them released guttural chuckles; something in the air reeked of menace. An irrational urge to flee crawled up Daion's back.
"I suppose it's hard to idealize someone when all you've heard are stories, isn't it?" the man shot back with a smirk, his gaze locking on Thaloren. "Even so, I can't deny how eager I am to fight you; our kind does have a great love for battle."
"What are you talking about? What's your rank, demon?" Thaloren was losing patience; flames enveloped his body.
"I am Tiberius Behemoth," the man declared with a self-satisfied smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Invoked. This is my first mission in this world; I do hope you behave."
The name fell like a slab of stone. Everyone froze; the Invoked began to retreat, terrified. Tiberius's smile widened.
"Behemoth…" Thaloren repeated, his voice trembling. "That's a noble demon family…"
His words were cut short when Behemoth's arm—grotesque and covered in white fur—smashed into him with brutal force. Thaloren was hurled through the air and crashed into a small mountain, tearing through it as though it were paper. The Corrupted grinned at the sight, but Behemoth restrained them with a single sharp glare.
"This fight is mine. Whoever dares move will die here and now," he warned. The demons froze in place. Behemoth then turned his gaze on the trembling Invoked, still reeling from how easily their strongest had been struck down. "The same goes for you." He lashed the air with his arm; a strange wave burst forth, hurling everyone back toward the fortress gate.
Daion turned his eyes toward the mountain; Behemoth mirrored the gesture, waiting, almost hoping he hadn't killed him with that strike. The air around the mound grew heavy and, in an instant, ignited with faint flames.
"Perfect," the demon murmured. "That way, I won't have to answer to my lord."
His human form began to twist grotesquely: his hair lengthened, his face sprouted bulging growths, and his teeth elongated; lumps swelled across his back. Within seconds, his clothes were reduced to tatters. There was no longer any doubt—before them towered a Corrupted.
It was a colossal creature, as imposing as a fortress and as majestic as a crown bathed in gold. Snow-white fur covered nearly all of its body, except for its chest, where metallic plates were fused into its dark skin, forming a gleaming exoskeleton. Its muzzle, broad and rounded, looked capable of swallowing a man whole in a single bite, lined with grotesquely uneven, misshapen teeth. Its eyes, wide-set and gleaming, burned with the poisonous brilliance of two emeralds.
From its forehead jutted a metallic crown fused with flesh, adorned by a single green gem that blazed like an eternal flame. Across its skull and spine sprouted a forest of twisted, broken horns, some still stained with shreds of flesh at their base, as if they had ripped through its body as they grew. Its tail, massive and thick, stretched nearly as long as the beast itself.
The body stood upon two grotesquely long, muscular arms ending in cyclopean hands, while its legs, far too short for its size, forced it into an upright, unnatural stance—balanced only by the weight of its tail.
"It had better not be in vain… Come and fight me, Summoned!" the monster roared, its voice reverberating like metallic thunder.
Smoke began to pour from within the mountain. The stone glowed red-hot before erupting violently. An explosion hurled fragments in all directions, and from the blaze emerged Thaloren, wreathed in flames so intense they melted the ground beneath his feet.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared before the Behemoth and struck its chest with a direct blow. The creature staggered back a single step, lifting briefly from the ground, yet a confident smile lingered on its face. Thaloren drew a deep breath and raised his hand.
"Solar Wave," he murmured.
A torrent of searing fire burst forth, flooding the battlefield with blinding radiance. The blast was so fierce the Summoned shielded their faces, while the Behemoth's low, terrifying laughter echoed through the flames. Suddenly, a gigantic fist tore through the inferno and slammed Thaloren into the ground with crushing force.
The demon landed on its feet, unscathed, as if the Invoked's most devastating strike had been nothing more than a graze. Thaloren slowly rose, a trickle of blood running from his nose. He wiped it away with his sleeve, his gaze burning with determination.
The Summoned watched helplessly, the weight of terror pressing on their chests. Daion gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, while Ken stood beside him in silence, as if trying to guess his intent.
"Come on, is that all you've got?" the demon sneered. "You mean to tell me I broke the rules just for a few singed hairs?"
"What are you talking about? I'm only warming up," Thaloren retorted with arrogance. He glanced at those inside the fortress and frowned. "Let's turn up the heat."
Flames engulfed him. The ground softened beneath his steps, and in seconds the temperature soared, reaching even the distance where Daion and the others struggled to breathe.
Both fighters raised their arms and clashed in a concentrated wave of force. The land heaved in rippling waves; despite the size disparity, Thaloren held his pressure firm. Sparks danced around his hand, and a detonation shook the battlefield. The Behemoth staggered, dazed, as Thaloren shot forward again, flames trailing around him. The monster swung with a colossal swipe—Thaloren twisted aside, spun, and appeared behind it.
A rain of energy projectiles pelted the beast's back. It groaned, retaliating with a tail strike that smashed Thaloren midair. The Summoned quickly regained control. The demon regarded him with a blend of amusement and disdain—it was impossible to tell whether it was mocking him or simply entertained. Thaloren gritted his teeth and unleashed another barrage; the monster spread its arms to receive the blows, the metallic plates on its chest gleaming as they absorbed the impacts.
The ground trembled again. With a thunderous stomp, the beast split the earth beneath Thaloren; a fiery column erupted, hurling him skyward.
"Did it just reflect the attack?" Ken asked in confusion.
"Thaloren isn't using his full power, is he?" Daion interjected, eyes fixed on the fight. "We haven't seen anything close to the explosion that wiped out that army of monsters."
"If he did, we'd all be dead," Ken said flatly.
"Then he's protecting us. Do you even know how his powers work?" Daion pressed, as Thaloren rose again to catch his breath, scratched and battered but not yet gravely wounded. Ken shook his head.
A familiar voice spoke behind them. Loryn appeared, watching intently.
"The god of the Twin Suns," he explained. "A Summoned who inherits that power is essentially a walking star. He can generate incandescent plasma instantly, reaching temperatures akin to the sun's surface. But in group combat, it's limiting—his energy is devastatingly destructive, and nearly impossible to control without incinerating his allies."
The Behemoth bared its teeth, growling, and with a voice heavy with defiance, bellowed:
"HEY! Are you going to stand there like a puppet, or are you going to fight?"
The tension rose again; flames crackled and the ground shook with every clash, as the duel between colossus and fire promised to grow even more brutal.
Thaloren struggled to figure out how to bring it down. The monster's hide was tough enough to withstand his plasma head-on; the only option was to raise the temperature even further—but if he did, he would endanger everyone nearby. A single thought crossed his mind, though he knew it would be exhausting.
The Behemoth leapt. In a blink, it was in front of him. Thaloren barely reacted before the demon interlaced its fingers and brought down its fist like a colossal hammer. The blow hurled him into the ground, bouncing him back up. As he opened his eyes, he saw the monster descending again. Thaloren crossed his arms and conjured a plasma shield, but the fist tore through the barrier like paper, crushing his arms and driving him deeper into the rock as the terrain shattered beneath its weight.
He spat blood; the strike had pierced through his defenses completely. His organs churned inside him, screaming to burst free under the pressure. He tried to rise, but the beast only pressed harder against his body. Thaloren clenched his teeth.
"Fusion!" he roared.
At once, plasma engulfed his body again, this time glowing with a fiercer light. The demon recoiled, leaping back and shaking its hand as if stung.
Thaloren stood tall. Daion noticed his right eye had changed: its pupil now spun like a sun in constant rotation and contraction.
The Behemoth looked at him in confusion. It checked its fist and saw blackened marks seared between its fingers. Heat swelled once more as Thaloren lunged forward, driving a direct punch into its brow. The monster shuddered, whipping its neck back like a lash—this time, it had felt the strike. Still, it answered with a terrifying grin.
Thaloren didn't hesitate. He hammered another blow into its abdomen, and this time the metallic plates bent with a groan. The strike was clean; a trickle of blood ran from the demon's maw. The Summoned warrior grinned ferociously and unleashed another burst of plasma.
The explosion hurled the Behemoth into the air. The beast landed upright, lifting its gaze with a twisted look of satisfaction. The Summoned erupted in cheers—it seemed victory was within reach.
But Loryn's face remained cold, expectant. Daion understood why: Thaloren was gasping for breath, straining to keep his own energy under control. The Behemoth noticed too, and let out a laugh that chilled the blood of all who heard it.
"I see…" it said mockingly, its voice rumbling like thunder. "You released the power of your gauntlet. But to avoid killing the humans present, you're limiting the range of your radiation."
The Summoned froze in suffocating silence. Daion tried to step forward, but stopped cold at what came next.
"And because of that," the demon went on, licking its fangs, "you're concentrating all that heat inside your own body. You must be roasting alive in your own furnace… aren't you?"
Thaloren trembled for just an instant; fleeting memories of his early days in this world crossed his mind. But he decided there was no time for sentimentality. He drew a deep breath and raised both arms above his head. A sphere of plasma began to form above him, flickering between red, white, and blue hues, as if the very temperature fluctuated chaotically.
Daion watched in awe: the sphere throbbed like a newborn sun, swelling and contracting, until the air itself warped around it from the heat.
The demon smirked to himself.
"Let's see if you're still laughing when this hits you," Thaloren growled.
Tiberius spread his arms wide, baring his fangs in a mocking grin.
"Come then, human! Show me something worth my time!" he roared.
Thaloren lowered his arms, and the sphere collapsed into a blazing beam that lit the battlefield as if a sun had crashed to earth. The Behemoth's eyes went wide; for the first time, terror flashed across its face. The beam struck it head-on, unleashing a plasma explosion that scorched the ground into a sea of molten fire.
Thaloren didn't relent. He kept pouring power into the attack, screaming in desperation as light consumed everything. Daion wondered, horrified, how much Omega energy such an assault could drain before the Summoned destroyed himself.
For a moment, it seemed the Behemoth was being overwhelmed. But within the storm of plasma, an ethereal figure emerged: a giant silhouette, as vast as a mountain, the distorted shape of the Corrupted itself. It did not appear corporeal, yet its mere presence made the air vibrate with an ancient echo.
An instant later, a wave of energy rippled across the battlefield. The invisible surge swept through Thaloren, the Summoned, and everyone present.
The pain was indescribable. Their bones writhed as if trying to snap from within. Many collapsed unconscious instantly. Thaloren screamed as the heat of his own plasma seeped through microscopic fractures opening in his skeleton. Daion drove his sword into the ground to keep himself upright, his hands trembling from sheer effort.
Thaloren staggered, and his attack faded. The colossal figure vanished like smoke scattered by the wind. Through the thick cloud that remained, a monstrous leap shook the earth—the Behemoth burst forth, cleaving the air with brutal force.
Thaloren tried to lift his arm, but the beast crashed down in front of him and unleashed a punch that made the entire field tremble. The summoned warrior was hurled upward by the impact, letting out a strangled groan, though he never managed to break free: the Behemoth had seized his arm, yanking it so violently it nearly tore from the socket.
With a savage motion, the monster swung him through the air and slammed him against the ground. Thaloren felt blood flood his mouth and stain his teeth. Desperate, he clutched the creature's arm and pushed his flames to the limit. The Behemoth's fur and flesh began to char, drawing a growl of pain from the beast.
But even as its flesh burned, the demon kept a twisted, cruel smile. Thaloren's eyes widened in shock just as the Behemoth's other fist came crashing down, striking his torso like a hammer and driving him deep into the earth with brutal force.
Thaloren let go, and the monster pulled back its arm. The summoned warrior rose just a little, as if still stuck to the Behemoth's skin, before collapsing to the ground again. His breathing came ragged; his lungs filled with blood, and his heart beat in agonized fits.
The Behemoth raised its head, panting as well. Then Daion noticed the ground beginning to darken with a thick, black fluid: a hole had opened in the beast's side, the same wound left by the plasma strike. Blood poured out relentlessly, yet the demon still wore that arrogant smile, as if nothing could erase it.
Daion stepped forward, sword in hand.
"What do you think you're doing?" Loryn snapped, blocking his path. "You just saw what that thing is capable of. If you go, you'll die."
"If Thaloren falls, we don't stand a chance. That's the only truth here."
Loryn scowled, ready to argue, but stopped short when he saw Thaloren staggering back to his feet.
The Behemoth raised a brow with curiosity.
"What are you trying to do? I've already won this battle."
Thaloren kept his gaze fixed on the ground. The corrupted ones that followed the Behemoth snickered as they watched him stumble toward his executioner. Even the one who had remained in the back straightened, eager to see more.
The summoned warrior lifted his hand, releasing another burst of energy. But this time, as the smoke cleared, the Behemoth emerged unharmed. It shrugged and drove a brutal punch into Thaloren's stomach. The warrior collapsed to his knees, clutching his abdomen as he gasped for breath.
"Not yet…" he muttered, bracing his arms against the dirt to rise again.
The corrupted one watched him in bafflement.
Daion reacted. He sprinted with all his strength toward the fight. The Behemoth stared in surprise; Loryn froze, his face contorted with shock; and the other summoned warriors could not hide their bewilderment.
Daion raised his sword, intent on buying time for Thaloren to stand. But then a shadowy figure dropped onto him. A crushing force seized his head, and in an instant he was smashed into the ground.
Something immense pinned him down. He tried to look up and caught sight of the corrupted warrior who had lingered at the rear. The demon pressed its leg cruelly against the back of his neck, grinding him into the earth.
At last, Daion saw him clearly: a true demon. Two long horns crowned his forehead; his twisted, deformed face radiated pure hatred; from his red eyes spilled a sickly, blazing light. His legs were furred, his body black and muscular, like a two-meter colossus. From his back spread long bat-like wings, and from behind lashed a snake that served as a tail.
Thaloren saw him. He realized this mid-rank corrupted hadn't meant to kill Daion outright and tried to move to his aid. But there was no time. The Behemoth's massive fist crashed onto his back, driving him deep into the earth. Thaloren's eyes rolled white.
"Now he won't be getting up again," the monster declared.
The summoned warriors looked on in despair. Seraphine trembled, unrecognizable, stripped of the iron composure that had always defined her. Hope itself died when Thaloren's flames went out and the gauntlet's aura faded away. The summoned warrior was down for good, barely clinging to breath.
End of Chapter 27.