"Ladies and gentlemen, my apologies for interrupting your delightful entertainment."
The man in the white mask spoke with elegant composure, his voice carrying a faint rasp, like a refined gentleman.
With a graceful leap from the viewing box, he landed steadily on the ground. The arena's massive spotlight immediately swung over, illuminating the unhurried figure as if he were the true protagonist of this blood-soaked gala.
The vast space transitioned from stunned silence to boiling chaos in an instant. A wave of noise crashed forth as shadowy mercenaries trained their guns on the intruder.
Carrigan's manor had operated for years, and it wasn't without its challengers. Once, a local Romanian gang which coveted the immense profits of human trafficking had hired a group of Chechen militants after negotiations with Carrigan collapsed.
Infamous for giving even the Russian military headaches, these cold-blooded brutes had stormed the manor gates on modified motorcycles, wantonly blasting every inch of the estate with handheld grenade launchers.
With heavy firepower support outside, their arsenal rivaled that of a national police force.
In under a minute, they breached the manor's defenses, leaving Carrigan's mercenaries dead or wounded. The Chechens, hardened by years of combat against the Russian army, were a cut above the usual rabble in both tactical skill and coordination.
Five minutes later, they burst into the manor's inner sanctum. The local gang had offered a king's ransom for Carrigan's head, a sum beyond ordinary imagination.
Yet, to everyone's shock, not a single soul emerged alive half an hour later. It was as if they had been silently devoured... no gunfire, no signs of struggle, they just vanished without a trace.
Afterward, the Romanian gang was purged in a bloodbath. Its leaders were tossed into cages as fodder for the beasts. From then on, no one dared challenge Carrigan who had solidified his position as Romania's undisputed crime lord...
So when the white-masked man made his entrance, the elite audience felt neither surprise nor fear. If anything, they roared with excitement, eager to see how events would unfold.
No one believed the intruder would leave the manor alive. Carrigan's temper was notorious, and bets were already being placed on whether the fool would be wolf chow or handed over to sadistic patrons for 'entertainment'.
"The party ends here." Sean strode calmly into the cage.
The werewolf, having just ripped off the last challenger's head, glared at this suicidal human with its blood-drenched fangs bared.
With a slight gesture, Sean traced a shimmering arc in the air. A faint ring of sparks materialized, coalescing into a small, intricate band.
After days of training at Kamar-Taj, his energy control had refined... It no longer displayed the chaotic and unstable surges of before.
This was his latest innovation... drawing inspiration from Kamar-Taj's magical systems, he'd crafted a mental construct to stabilize energy output. The idea of forging weapons through sheer will had even earned the Ancient One's approval.
Slipping the radiant golden ring onto his finger, Sean pointed at the charging werewolf...
His mind channeled energy and constructed a form. A searing spear of molten fire erupted into existence, its blistering heatwave exploding the beast's skull before it could take another step.
Before the audience could even gasp, Sean's consciousness expanded, weaving a web of fiery sigils across the arena.
From the darkness, a hundred flaming javelins lanced down, piercing through the armored mercenaries like divine retribution. Flesh turned to ash under the scorching judgment.
"..The righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. For those who try to poison my companions, I will kill them with great hatred and incomparable anger. When I deliver retribution, they will know that I am the Lord..."
As the manor's security systems crumbled under Skynet's assault, the booming chorus of Messiah's "Hallelujah" flooded the speakers.
The majestic hymn intertwined with Sean's recitation of Old Testament verses casted an eerie sanctity over the den of sin, it was as if the devil's lair had been transformed into a cathedral...
...
Meanwhile, Mordo stood guard at the metal gate. A shield of conjured flames was erected before him, deflecting a storm of bullets.
In his hands was a machine gun scavenged from a dead mercenary. The staccato...
*Rat-tat-tat!*
...mowed down charging security like wheat before a scythe.
The scene was violent and bloody.
Listening to the "Hallelujah" chorus, the master of the mystic arts murmured, "I carry out God's righteous judgment..."
...
At the arena's heart, Sean stood within the massive cage...
The wealthy elites who had come for a show now screamed and scrambled like rats exposed to light. The hymn's grandeur tore away their veneer of sophistication, revealing the ugliness beneath.
Stripped of wealth and power, these high-and-mighty figures were no different from common folk.
With a metallic groan, four walls of the arena split open. Hulking werewolves burst forth, roaring. These inferior beasts which were unable to shapeshift at will were outcasts... They were rejected by their own kind and shunned by humans.
Carrigan and his vampire allies had captured them, turning the creatures into the arena's star attraction. Those Chechen militants? They were torn apart by these 'good dogs'. Now, the ex-mercenary unleashed them on Sean.
The young man smirked. His ring pulsed with viscous light as a tremendous amount of energy flowed from his body to the ring, which was a stable conduit. A miniature golden Gatling gun materialized in midair.
*Boom!*
With a thunderous explosion, a leaping werewolf was shredded, its chest blown open before it collapsed. The remaining beasts skidded to a halt and retreated tremblingly.
However, Carrigan who was watching through the cameras wouldn't allow retreat. Their collars crackled with electricity and delivered agonizing shocks that forced them forward as they whimpered in submission.
"No one leaves tonight."
To the hymn's majestic rhythm, Sean advanced whilst holding the golden Gatling in one hand... Dazzling flames erupted from its barrels. The slaughter began...