The edges of the canyon smoldered, reality itself fraying as Kon's corrupted mana gnawed at the earth. The air hissed, thick with the stench of ozone and ash, and the few surviving structures leaned precariously over the abyss, their shadows stretching like skeletal fingers.
Trevor Maymum, the 2nd Lord of the Hazel, stood firm, his amber staff Gözkıran trembling in his grip as he locked eyes with Kon. The Mad Tiger's corrupted aura pulsed like a diseased heartbeat, violet-black tendrils of mana lashing outward and gnawing at the remnants of Valoria. Every breath Trevor took burned—not from exhaustion, but from the void where oxygen should have been. Kon's presence had erased the very air around them, leaving a vacuum that clawed at their lungs.
"Please, Kon," Trevor rasped, sweat mingling with the blood trickling from a gash on his temple. "Snap out of it. I don't want to hurt you."
For a heartbeat, Kon hesitated. His hollow white eyes flickered, the swords in his hands dipping slightly. The Arya ring on his finger—now fused with the Shadow's obsidian Fısıltı Çivisi—dimmed, as if the real Kon were clawing through the darkness.
Then, with a snarl that sounded more beast than man, Kon unsheathed his second blade. The corrupted mana flared, twisting into jagged serrations along the steel.
So much for hoping… Trevor sighed inwardly, tightening his grip on Gözkıran.
Kon lunged, his twin swords carving a cross-shaped arc of annihilation. Trevor planted his staff into the crumbling earth, amber mana erupting in a shield. The collision sent shockwaves ripping through the canyon, the ground beneath them disintegrating into fine ash.
Thrax watched the fight unfold, a deep frown creasing his face.
"Darius, Lord Maymum is in danger. Lord Kushan and I were holding back to preserve what's left of ArchenLand. And though one might not notice it, Lord Kaplan was also holding back against us in that state, yet we were still completely outmatched. If he goes in alone..."
Darius didn't take his eyes off the battle.
"Have faith, Elder Thrax." His voice was calm but firm. "Lord Trevor didn't become Rank #2 among us by being a pushover. Give him a chance."
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"Retract, Gözkıran!" Trevor barked. The staff shrank to its normal size, its runes flaring as he spun it like a baton. Kon's swords clashed against the golden band in a shower of sparks, each strike reverberating up Trevor's arms.
"Kargaşa, 1st and Second Climb: Şaka + Dağılma!'
The staff multiplied—dozens of spectral copies orbiting Trevor like a constellation. With a flick of his wrist, the illusions parried Kon's frenzied slashes, their amber glow neutralizing the corrosive mana. Kon pivoted, aiming a downward strike at Trevor's skull, but the 2nd Lord's prehensile tail snapped out, coiling around Kon's ankle. With a grunt, Trevor yanked him off-balance and swung .552Gözkıran into his ribs.
Kon skidded backward, his claws gouging trenches into the earth. For a moment, he knelt, chest heaving—not from fatigue, but from the unnatural rhythm of the Shadow's power. His breaths came in ragged, animalistic bursts, his body a marionette jerked by strings of rage.
"Trevor… " Kon's voice fractured, half his own, half a guttural growl.
Trevor snapped, though his eyes betrayed his anguish. "Fight it, damn you!"
Kon's response was further release of explosive Mana slashes, a dozen more tore into the canyon walls, deepening the chasm.
Kon charged his next attack—a massive arc of mana-infused energy, identical to the one that had erased Valoria.
Trevor gritted his teeth and reacted instantly.
He thrust his staff into the ground and caught the mana slash with his bare hands.
The moment it touched his skin, the energy transformed into lightning—
And with a flick of his wrist, Trevor hurled it back.
Kon blocked the counterattack, the explosion shaking the battlefield.
Trevor exhaled heavily.
"Damn it... He's not slowing down."
Ican only do so much with whats at stake.Trevor realized, his arms trembling. If I go all out…
He shoved the thought aside. Beyond them, the ruins of ArchenLand groaned, the last remnants of its shield flickering like a dying ember.
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From a distance, Daruis, Thrax, and Talonir watched, their faces etched with dread.
"It's no use," Daruis muttered, his mana flickering weakly. The lemon-green aura around him sputtered, his horns cracked from earlier clashes. He hasn't been able to heal himself properly. "Even Trevor can't restrain him without destroying what's left of ArchenLand."
Thrax's hands trembled as he clutched his robe. "We can't abandon Kon. There must be a way to extract the Fısıltı Çivisi!"
"And how?" Talonir snapped, his golden feathers dulled by Kon's corrosive aura. "None of us can get close. His mana is erasing reality itself!"
Daruis closed his eyes, his grip tightening on Baltacek. "Then I'll end it."
"No my King! You do not have the strength to go any further" Johan Fare contested.
"A Mana Vow—exchange my life to sever the Shadow's hold."
"You'll die!" Thrax hissed.
"Better me than thousands."
Before Daruis could step forward, a voice cut through the tension.
"Writing off your comrades so easily King Daruis?"
They turned. Adam Kurt limped into view, supported by Kopa and Karadir. His clothes hung in tatters, his fur matted with blood and ash, but his gaze—once playful and warm—was now sharp, calculating.
"Adam!" Daruis breathed. "You're alive!"
"Barely," Adam coughed, wincing as Karadir adjusted his arm over her shoulders. "But alive enough to fix this."
Talonir frowned. "You're in no state to fight. Your mana—"
"I don't need much," Adam interrupted, turning to Thrax. "Lord Deniz. A buff. Just enough to stabilize me."
Thrax hesitated, his Aegis Tide flickering uncertainly. "This could kill you."
"Do it."
Thrax placed his hands on Adam's back, cerulean mana weaving into his battered body. Adam stiffened, a gasp escaping him as the energy surged through his veins. The crescent moon necklace at his throat glowed—a soft, ethereal blue—and his aura shifted, sharpening like a honed blade.
"Unleash… Grand Kurt."
The transformation was subtle yet profound. Adam's tattered clothes dissolved into a sleeveless blue battle suit, the fabric shimmering like liquid ice. Golden armguards clamped over his reversed knees, and a mane of frost-tipped fur cascaded down his shoulders. His tail, now banded with gold, lashed once—a thunderous crack that echoed across the canyon.
But it was his eyes that struck them most—no longer warm sky blue they knew, but glacial blue, piercing and detached.
"Adam…" Daruis whispered, a mix of hope and unease tightening his chest.
"Save the speeches," Adam said, his voice devoid of its usual levity.
"Time to bring our friend back to his senses "