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Chapter 30 - The Heart of Rot

The crystalline CRACK was the last clear sound Ren heard. In the next instant, the Blight Heart did not explode outwards; it imploded. With a deafening, soul-tearing shriek of dying magic, it sucked the light and sound from the clearing, collapsing in on itself for a single, silent moment before erupting in a shockwave of pure, negative energy.

It was not a wave of force, but of absolute cold and despair. It washed over the clearing, instantly snuffing out the violet glow and throwing the robed Hollow back like broken dolls. Their chanting died in their throats, replaced by strangled cries of pain as the magical backlash severed their connection to the Heart. The shadowy tendrils that had chained Olthann to the ground dissolved into black mist.

He was free.

For a moment, the great bear remained kneeling, dazed and shuddering. Then, with a roar that was no longer just pain but now raw, untempered fury, he rose. He surged to his full, colossal height, a mountain of rage and corrupted power. The violet veins on his fur pulsed erratically, and his eyes were burning pools of madness. He saw the nearest grey-robed figure struggling to its feet and, with a single swipe of a paw armed with claws like daggers of obsidian, sent the Hollow flying into the rotted trunk of a redwood.

Chaos erupted. Olthann, a force of nature unbound, began to tear through the disorganized ranks of his former captors. He was fighting with the blind instinct of a cornered animal, attacking the source of his long torment.

From his hiding place, Ren watched the scene through a swimming, grey haze. The effort of the Serpent's Roar had utterly hollowed him out. His vision was blurred, his limbs felt like lead, and a high-pitched ringing filled his ears. Shiro was a limp, warm weight on his arm, completely spent. Ren knew he had only seconds before the initial shock wore off and the Hollow turned their attention to him. Survival screamed at him to run, to use the bear's rampage as cover and flee. He had done it. He had shattered the Heart.

But as he watched the great bear fight, he saw the tragedy of it. Olthann was magnificent, but he was lost in a sea of pain and rage. He wasn't fighting with the wisdom of a Guardian; he was simply rampaging. He would either be overwhelmed and recaptured, or he would escape and become a truly monstrous threat to the entire forest, consumed completely by the blight he still carried. The Eldest's words echoed in his mind: If he can be saved, save him. If not… grant him the mercy of peace.

"Find the river-mage!" a voice shrieked, cutting through the chaos. One of the robed figures, apparently a leader, was pointing a quivering finger in his direction. "Do not let him escape!"

Several of the Hollow disengaged from the rampaging bear and began gliding toward his position. There was no more time. He couldn't run, and he certainly couldn't fight. But he could fulfill the last part of his mission. He had to save Olthann from himself.

He ignored his own approaching doom and focused the last ounce of his will. He reached past his exhaustion, past the throbbing ache of his scar, and called upon the final embers of the Glade's blessing within him. He did not form a weapon. He formed a thought, a single, pure concept, and sent it lancing across the clearing with all his remaining spirit. It was a pulse of silver light aimed not at the bear's body, but at the ancient, noble Guardian-spirit trapped within.

Guardian of the Weald! Be free! The Heart is broken! Flee this place!

The mental call struck Olthann mid-rampage. The great bear froze, flinching as if from a physical blow. For a single, miraculous instant, the violet haze in his eyes flickered, and a glimmer of ancient, intelligent awareness returned. His gaze snapped away from the Hollow and locked directly onto Ren's hiding place. In that look, Ren saw not madness, but a flicker of profound, weary recognition and gratitude.

Then the moment was gone. But the command had been received. Instead of continuing his wild assault, Olthann turned. With a final, defiant roar aimed at the entire clearing, he lowered his head and charged, not at a single enemy, but through their thinning ranks. He plowed through them like a landslide, creating a path of destruction aimed directly away from the clearing and into the deepest part of the Weald.

The remaining Hollow were left stunned, their prize and their power source gone in a matter of moments. But their shock quickly curdled into a focused, unified rage. Their primary objective was gone, but the one responsible was still here.

Drained, exposed, and unable to even stand properly, Ren looked up as the clearing fell silent. The chaos was over. Olthann was free. And now, the full, undivided, and murderous attention of more than a dozen of the Hollow turned upon him. They began to advance, a silent, gliding semicircle of grey-robed death, and Ren knew he had nowhere left to run.

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