Chapter 52
The lowest level opened into a vast arena beneath a vaulted ceiling that soared hundreds of feet overhead. Dense draconic runes covered the dark teal walls, washing the chamber in pale-blue light and lending the entire space an eerie, otherworldly glow.
The circular battlefield stretched several hundred yards across.
Its floor had been forged from dark-gray alloy and bore the scars of countless battles, as though generations of warriors had fought and died upon it.
Black archways ringed the arena at intervals of roughly sixty feet.
Some had collapsed, while others still stood with their interiors filled by absolute darkness, like doorways into an endless abyss.
Together, they loomed over the battlefield like silent beasts.
At the arena’s center, a fight to the death had already entered its final stage.
A body sailed through the air and slammed into the floor. Brom skidded across the metal, scattering debris as blood spread beneath him from a wound carved deep into his chest, nearly to the bone. He struggled twice before finally forcing himself upright, his face deathly pale.
“Brom!”
Bianca tried to reach him, but a wind blade drove her back. She rolled aside and barely kept her balance, though the attack still caught her left arm. The cut was shallow, but blood quickly soaked half her sleeve, and the injured limb trembled uncontrollably.
Thorne stood in front of them with lightning surging around his body. He was barely holding on. His breathing had turned ragged, sweat sheeted his brow, and every movement betrayed how close he was to collapse. Even so, his gaze remained locked on the strongest of the five enemies facing them.
“Who are you?” Thorne demanded. “There are no other Alliances near the Frostlands. We’ve never even met!”
White Hart stood at the head of the Beastkin Alliance.
She was tall, her short hair damp with sweat, yet a calm smile still rested on her lips.
Behind her stood Hyena, Bat, Elderwood, and Muskox.
All four carried wounds from the battle, but their condition was far better than that of the Three Blades Alliance.
More importantly, their combined Unit forces still stood massed behind them.
The outcome had been decided long ago.
White Hart offered a graceful introduction. “I’m White Hart, vice leader of the Beastkin Alliance. You’re right—we aren’t based in the Frostlands.”
Her smile deepened.
“As for why we’re enemies, standing in the way of our Alliance’s advancement was your first and final mistake.”
“The Beastkin Alliance?”
Bianca and Brom reacted immediately. They knew the name. The Beastkin Alliance currently ranked in the top ten, which explained why these people were so strong.
What made the situation even more hopeless was the realization that such a dangerous Alliance had been operating nearby for days without the Three Blades Alliance ever noticing.
During the Week One Event, the Three Blades Alliance had ranked well themselves. Their position had only begun to slide after the second event started and the larger Alliances gained an overwhelming numerical advantage.
Having fewer members would have been survivable. The deeper problem was that the unique nature of Thorne, Bianca, and Brom kept them from fielding normal Units, placing them at a crushing disadvantage in the Weekly Event.
Thorne’s expression darkened. White Hart was nowhere near as reasonable as Lilith had been, and the three of them might truly die here.
The only option left was to fight to the end.
He looked at the wounded Brom and the exhausted Bianca, then released a quiet sigh.
“If I give you this, will you let us leave?”
Thorne produced an ancient book bound in black material. He had stumbled across it inside the dungeon, but the Beastkin Alliance had attacked before he could examine it.
Hyena laughed from behind White Hart. “What’s that supposed to be? Some piece of junk?”
White Hart was not so quick to dismiss it. She turned a dagger idly between her fingers and studied the book.
“Something found inside a dungeon this unusual shouldn’t be called junk just because it looks old.”
Hope flickered in Thorne’s eyes.
“This dungeon is almost completely empty. That book may be the treasure all the native factions came here to claim.”
He held it out.
“It should be enough to buy our lives.”
The Beastkin Alliance knew nothing about the treasure tied to the Frostlands omen. They knew only that the Werewolves and Vampires had crossed a great distance to reach the region. Paired with Thorne’s explanation, the situation was not difficult to piece together.
White Hart smiled.
“What a pleasant surprise.”
Then she arranged her face into exaggerated regret.
“The treasure may well be valuable enough to buy your lives. Unfortunately, our leader ordered us to kill you.”
Thorne stared at her.
“Why?”
He could not make sense of it. The two Alliances had no history of conflict, and he had just offered them a valuable prize. Even in victory, forcing three desperate Lords into a final stand would still cost the Beastkin Alliance troops.
Elderwood studied him for a moment.
“They must still be a Lv.1 Alliance. They don’t even know the advancement requirement.”
“What requirement?” Thorne asked.
Was their Alliance Rank truly the reason for this attack?
Hyena grinned and pointed at the three of them.
“We need an Alliance Crystal, so you’re all dying today. As for that treasure, once you’re dead, it belongs to us anyway.”
“Thorne, stop wasting your breath,” Bianca said. “We fight.”
Weakened as she was, she refused to bend.
Brom steadied himself. “If we’re dying, we’re taking some of them with us.”
Thorne’s hands curled into fists. There was no other way out.
The Beastkin Alliance wanted their Alliance Crystal. Strictly speaking, they only needed to kill Thorne, the Alliance leader. With the mysterious book added to the bargain, he might still have bought Bianca’s and Brom’s lives.
Yet neither of them suggested abandoning him.
They had chosen to stand beside him to the end.
Thorne tried to speak, but the words would not come. At last, he let out a quiet sigh, and a faint smile crossed his face.
“All right. We fight together.”
With companions like these, dying beside them was not the worst ending.
White Hart watched them without emotion.
“Surrender peacefully, and I might even leave your bodies intact.”
The fear drained from Thorne’s expression, replaced by determination.
“Then you’d better be ready to risk your lives too.”
White Hart’s smile vanished.
“Foolish.”
She raised one hand, and the four Lords behind her stepped forward.
For the first time since the battle began, the Beastkin Alliance released its true power.
Beastform.
Their bodies swelled rapidly.
White Hart transformed first. Her human figure expanded into a colossal moose nearly sixteen feet tall, with vast antlers rising from her head. Lightning crackled between the branches as crimson energy erupted around her body.
The pressure she released brushed the edge of Tier 9 Veteran.
This was White Hart’s true strength.
Hyena, Bat, Elderwood, and Muskox transformed to match their codenames.
Hyena became an enormous predator built like a lion, wrapped in a bloodthirsty aura.
Bat turned into a dark, winged beast resembling a wyvern.
Elderwood grew into a towering dead tree several yards tall, its roots and vines churning across the floor, while Muskox transformed into a massive armored ox.
Aside from White Hart, every one of them stood above Tier 3 Veteran.
Their combined pressure made it difficult for Thorne’s group to breathe. At the same time, the wounds carried by the Beastkin Alliance members began knitting closed the moment their transformations finished.
“So this is their real power...”
Despair crept into Thorne’s voice, but he did not retreat.
Bianca and Brom moved to flank him.
Bianca lowered her voice. “Brom and I will detonate our power. When we do, use the opening to escape through one of the deeper archways.”
The Three Blades Alliance understood this place better than their attackers. Native factions had also been transported into the dungeon, and if Thorne encountered one of them, the resulting chaos might give him a chance to survive.
“No,” Thorne said. “We leave together or we die together.”
“Stop being stubborn!” Bianca snapped. “You’re the fastest. You’re the only one who might make it.”
White Hart’s ethereal voice rolled across the arena.
“None of you are leaving.”
Her overwhelming pressure descended upon them, and every instinct in Thorne’s body screamed a warning. A lethal attack was already on its way.
Then a bright female voice drifted across the battlefield.
“Well, this looks lively.”