The volcanic basin had become a world of living fire.
Ash swirled through the air like snow in hell, glowing orange under the reflection of magma streams that carved glowing veins across the ground.
Every step sizzled. Every breath seared.
Even the wind was heat.
The four hunters were no longer fighting the monster—they were fighting the mountain itself.
Hunnt was still locked in his own war, surrounded by the endless tide of lesser magma beasts that had poured from the fissures.
They were smaller than Vulcarion Basal, but no less deadly—fangs of obsidian, hides dripping molten resin.
They came in packs, hissing through fire, drawn by the scent of blood and the call of the awakening giant.
He met them head-on.
His gauntlets, black as iron and pulsing with red light, cracked the air each time they struck. Every blow sent ripples through the ground. He ducked, pivoted, countered—the Anchor Step grounding him, his movements tight and deliberate even amid chaos.
When one beast lunged, he met it with a spinning fist that shattered its skull. Another clamped down on his arm; Hunnt turned his weight, twisted the creature's head, and slammed it against a molten boulder until it stopped moving.
He didn't look tired—only focused. Every movement burned with purpose.
"Come on," he growled under his breath, knocking another creature back with a flare of Armament Haki, the black gloss of his gauntlets shimmering with streaks of crimson. "You'll break before I do."
Each strike felt heavier. The smell of burnt blood filled the air.
And still the beasts kept coming.
Until the earth trembled again.
A deep, low hum rolled through the valley. Hunnt's steps faltered—not from exhaustion, but recognition.
He looked up, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.
Across the basin, Vulcarion Basal was moving again.
The wyvern reared its head high, molten lines tracing across its entire body. Its wings stretched wide enough to darken the sky, their undersides glowing red-hot like smoldering iron.
Steam burst from its chest vents in violent waves, lighting the haze with flickering orange.
And there, between that beast and the others, Seren stood alone.
Her shield was shattered, her lance cracked along its shaft, her armor blackened from constant heat—but her stance hadn't broken.
Each breath came ragged, but she refused to step back.
Kael crouched low behind a ridge, loading another round into his bowgun with shaking hands. Sweat streamed down his temple, his fingers raw from reload after reload. "That shield's done for—if she takes one more hit—"
Alder cut him off, voice hoarse but steady. "She's not backing down."
Kael risked another glance. Seren was bracing again, half her body hidden behind her melted shield.
She looked small against the wyvern's colossal frame, yet her defiance filled the valley.
Hunnt saw it too—through the haze of fire and smoke, through the chaos of his own battle.
For a heartbeat, everything else went quiet.
The lesser beasts didn't matter. The pain didn't matter.
He just saw her—standing, battered and smoking, but still guarding the others.
His jaw tightened. That's what it means… to walk the Path.
Seren shouted through the roar, voice trembling but fierce:
"Come on then! You want me—come and take me!"
The wyvern answered.
Vulcarion's body arched, molten cracks widening until the light within blazed white-hot.
The very sky burned crimson as its wings swept wide.
And then the mountain moved.
It slammed its tail across the battlefield—rocks and lava flying in all directions.
Kael and Alder ducked as the shockwave tore the ground apart, molten glass spraying over them like rain.
Seren took the hit head-on. The impact sent her flying, crashing into a broken ridge before she could plant her lance again.
Her body smoked where the armor had melted through, but she clawed her way upright—on trembling legs, shield raised once more.
Kael's eyes widened. "She's still up—how the hell—"
"She's not stopping," Alder muttered. "She's protecting us."
The wyvern's glow intensified again.
Cracks spread from its chest to its wings. Its roar deepened—no longer a sound, but a tremor that ran through bone and blood alike.
Kael's Observation Haki flared involuntarily. The heat signatures around the beast were spiking—its power climbing far beyond before. He could feel it in his gut: the next blow wouldn't just burn the ground.
It would erase it.
He shouted, "Hunnt! It's going critical!"
But Hunnt already knew.
He could feel it in the ground—the vibrations of something ancient, awakening completely.
He turned from the dead lesser beasts, flames and ash swirling around him.
Through the firestorm, he saw Seren one last time—half-broken, half-burning, but standing tall.
Her eyes locked with his across the distance, not in fear but in a quiet, unspoken understanding.
He clenched his fists.
Then came the roar.
The entire valley erupted.
Lava geysers burst from the fissures, molten streams raining down like flaming rivers.
A wall of fire rolled outward as Vulcarion Basal entered its Third Rage Mode.
The ground itself became molten. The air was ash. The wyvern's wings cut through the fire like scythes of light.
Even from afar, Hunnt felt the force of its rage ripple across the battlefield.
He could barely see through the haze—but he could feel Kael and Alder still moving somewhere beyond it.
This wasn't the moment for fear.
This was the moment for everything they had left.
Hunnt took one last breath, heat filling his lungs until it felt like fire.
Then he roared—not in anger, not in desperation, but in command.
"ALL OUT!"
The sound cut through the chaos like thunder.
It wasn't meant for Seren. She didn't know the code.
But Kael and Alder did.
Both hunters froze mid-motion, eyes snapping toward the sound.
Then, almost in unison, they nodded—understanding perfectly.
"All out," Alder muttered, tightening his grip on the Heartflare Great Sword, the molten glow flickering to life once more.
Kael reloaded in a blur, his fingers steady for the first time in hours. "Finally."
Seren, half-conscious and unaware of their plan, heard the shout and raised her shield again, thinking it was a rallying cry.
The wyvern's fire reflected in her eyes, the heat trembling against her armor.
Hunnt exhaled through the flames.
Kael took aim.
Alder braced for another charge.
And across the burning crater, the ancient wyvern raised its head to roar once more—its molten light casting long shadows over the hunters.
The mountain itself seemed to breathe.
The next move would decide who survived.