66
Far east of the Irin lands, beyond storm belts and sea fog, lay an island no sailor dared approach. Its shores were jagged obsidian, its cliffs cut like blades, and its center pulsed with an ancient, unseen heartbeat.
For ages, the island remained untouched.
Until tonight.
A circular diagram carved into the stone ground suddenly ignited—lines of blue-white energy racing from edge to center, lighting up the darkness like a second moon. Wind whipped in spirals, dust lifting from the floor as the patterns converged—
Fwoom.
A figure materialized from the light.
Tall. Cloaked entirely in white.
Face hidden beneath a deep hood.
In his right hand, he carried a staff—heavy, long, and carved entirely from dragon bone blackened with age. At the top, a spherical orb glowed like a pocket universe—galaxies swirling within. Beneath it, four cylindrical gems were embedded in sequence:
Blue.
Green.
Yellow.
Amber.
Each gem pulsed faintly, as if breathing. Beneath them came the staff’s handle, wrapped in decayed leather that had belonged to someone long dead.
An intimidating aura radiated from the staff—dark, dignified, ancient.
The kind only wielded by those who had transcended mortal limits.
The cloaked figure stepped out from the glowing circle and began walking forward, toward a colossal hall that stretched into dimness.
The air tasted of stone and salt.
The island trembled faintly beneath his feet.
At the end of the hall stood a domed chamber—three floors tall—its walls lined entirely with railing doors. Some old, some new, all reinforced. The ceiling was carved with sigils and constellations whose meanings were forgotten everywhere else in Maharlika.
Inside the dome, all was silent.
The figure raised his staff and tapped the floor with its butt.
THUD.
The sound echoed through the chamber like a heartbeat.
Two railing doors immediately responded.
One to his left.
One to his right.
The first door groaned open.
A massive creature stepped out—its size nearly twice the figure’s height.
Light blue skin.
A pair of curved tusks jutting down from the sides of its mouth.
Along its spine, shoulder blades, and tail ran rows of hardened blue spikes—stone-like, forged by pressure and age. Its eyes glowed a cold cerulean, like frozen storms.
When it inhaled, frost mist drifted from its nostrils.
The figure nodded once.
“Blue Tusk,” he named it.
The creature growled in acknowledgment.
From the second door, another beast emerged.
Smaller than Blue Tusk but still towering over the man.
Black skin, smooth and reflective.
White chest plate like polished bone.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Its head resembled that of a small dragon—long snout, ridged horns, and sharp teeth. Along its back to its tail were jagged carapace plates. Its elbows and knees ended in sharp, pointed protrusions. Its claws gleamed like obsidian blades.
It sniffed the air the moment it stepped out, senses sharp.
He called this one simply—
“Lizard.”
The cloaked figure lowered his staff, pressing its tip gently against the stone floor.
“Begin,” he said.
The moment the word left his lips, Lizard blurred into motion.
A streak of black and white.
Its claws aimed for Blue Tusk’s throat. It closed the distance in a heartbeat.
But Blue Tusk’s tail whipped upward—
WHACK.
Lizard was sent hurtling sideways, crashing into a wall with enough force to shake dust loose from the ceiling.
Before it could recover—
Blue Tusk’s tail trembled, and the hardened blue stones along its spine shot outward like arrows.
SHNK! SHNK! SHNK!
Lizard darted up the wall, claws digging in, narrowly avoiding the barrage. The spikes shattered against the far side of the dome, sending sparks skittering across the stone.
A low rumbling growl echoed from every railing door in the dome—other beasts reacting, restless, hungry, riled by the scent of combat.
Lizard leapt again, this time with both claws extended, aiming for the base of Blue Tusk’s skull.
Blue Tusk responded instantly—
launching a spike from its back.
SSSHT!
The spike hit Lizard directly in the chest.
The beast staggered backward, sliding across the floor. White liquid—its blood—oozed from the wound. It gripped the spike, snarled, and ripped it out, tossing it aside with a snarl.
The creatures behind the railing doors roared in anticipation, metal shaking under the weight of their impact.
Lizard dropped to all fours.
Its claws elongated.
Its talons sharpened.
Its muscles tightened like coiled wire.
Blue Tusk roared—a deep, guttural sound—and charged forward, shaking the entire dome.
It leapt.
The massive body slammed into the ground with a force that cracked stone. Pebbles and debris flew everywhere. But Lizard wasn’t there.
By the time dust settled, it had already climbed onto Blue Tusk’s back. Its claws struck downward—
SHK!
Blue Tusk roared as Lizard carved off half its tail.
The beasts in the surrounding chambers roared louder, drumming the walls with their claws and bodies. The sound grew deafening.
Lizard dashed across Blue Tusk’s spine, claws slicing, carving a path. It reached Blue Tusk’s face and slashed across the glowing blue eye.
Blue Tusk screamed—
a sound of pure agony.
It thrashed.
It stumbled.
It tore up pieces of stone floor as it flailed blindly.
The beasts behind the doors howled in unison—chanting silently, screaming for the kill.
Lizard stepped onto Blue Tusk’s chest and lifted its claw for the final strike—
And everything changed.
The patterns across Blue Tusk’s skin suddenly ignited.
Pulses of blue light raced across its body.
Its flesh hardened—turning into something like ancient, enchanted stone.
The killing strike hit—
CLANG.
The claw did nothing.
Blue Tusk’s hand snapped upward, gripping Lizard by the forearm.
In one brutal motion, it slammed Lizard into the ground.
Then the wall.
Then the ground again.
The dome shook violently with each impact.
Lizard’s body went limp, dazed, breath knocked out.
Blue Tusk lifted the creature and hurled it upward.
“RRRROOOOAAAAARRRR!”
A deafening growl rattled the entire chamber.
Then—
BOOM.
Dozens of blue spikes erupted from the floor—shooting upward like spears.
They pierced Lizard midair.
Once.
Twice.
Dozens of times.
The beast convulsed.
Then stopped moving entirely.
Blood—white and steaming—dripped down from the spikes as the chamber fell quiet.
The railing doors vibrated with excitement. The beasts inside howled again, louder than before.
Then—
A single thud echoed through the dome.
Everything fell silent.
The cloaked figure floated down from the observation platform, his white robes barely disturbed by the movement. He reached the center, where Blue Tusk landed heavily on its knees.
The beast bowed its head.
He placed his staff against its neck.
The binding dangle clipped around Blue Tusk’s throat glowed once, then unlatched, falling to the floor with a metallic clink.
The surrounding beasts roared again—approval, anticipation, hunger. The ritual had meaning. Clear meaning.
Blue Tusk slowly rose—
raised its arm—
and attempted to strike the cloaked figure.
But its claw froze in place.
Its entire body suspended midair—paralyzed.
The cloaked figure did not flinch.
“Another failure,” he said quietly.
He raised his staff.
Blue sigils materialized around Blue Tusk, forming circles, then layers of circles—like cages made of pure light.
Before the beast could cry out—
CRRKKKKKKK.
The circles collapsed inward.
Blue Tusk’s massive body crumpled like paper—
crushed under its own weight—
then fell silent forever.
The chamber stilled.
The cloaked figure lowered his staff, the universe orb dimming slightly.
Then he turned toward the remaining railing doors.
Toward the beasts roaring for release.
Toward the fate he was quietly shaping.
And in a voice that echoed through the dome like prophecy, he whispered—
“Soon.”
