Chapter 102: The Collapse
The Void Hound was an absolute nightmare of shifting geometry.
Dillon stepped into a flawless [Quick Draw], his katana sweeping toward the Hound’s neck. But the blade passed cleanly through empty air—the creature voluntarily phasing its physical form into pure shadow to avoid the strike. It instantly reformed behind Dillon, its jaws snapping shut inches from his spine.
"It’s dropping its physical mass to dodge!" Dillon yelled.
Overhead, the Cloud Serpent shrieked. It dove, releasing a blinding net of chained static electricity directly onto the Hound. CRACKLE-BOOM.
The intense electrical interference violently disrupted the void magic holding the creature together. The Hound convulsed, its body involuntarily forcing itself back into a solid, corporeal state as the lightning fried its nervous system.
"It’s solid! Pin it!" Dillon shouted.
"Red!" Garrett roared.
The Mad-Sheep hit the Hound like a battering ram. Its armored horns sank into the creature’s ribs, driving it brutally into the cobblestones and pinning it under its heavy weight.
Garrett stepped up, Volcan raised high and swung down.
KRAK-BOOM.
The thermal pulse caught the Hound directly between the eyes. The molten shockwave blew its skull apart in a fountain of orange light, and the creature dissolved into fading wisps of dark mist.
"Hound down!" Garrett yelled, not even pausing to breathe. "Pivoting to the Revenant!"
The plaza was turning into a slaughterhouse for the Court.
Mirko unleashed her tenth and final [Unstoppable Force] strike directly into the Iron Revenant’s fractured chest plate. The kinetic blast shattered the remaining purple runes into dust. The massive construct groaned, its rusted armor collapsing inward before it dissolved entirely into fading purple light.
Its master—the broad-shouldered operative—stumbled backward, bleeding and exhausted. Before he could raise his mace, the Frost Golem stepped inside his guard and backhanded him across the chest. The operative was thrown ten feet, crashing hard into a stone pillar and slumping to the ground, motionless.
Kuro stood silently over the bleeding, neutralized female operative.
"Three summons down," Dillon breathed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Wait... the leader!"
Near the fountain, the scarred operative wasn’t casting a spell. He wasn’t running. He was laughing, a wet, fanatical sound that cut through the muffled air.
He raised his hand and the black crystal attached to the fountain began to violently strobe.
The liquid shadow in the basin churned, rising upward like a geyser. The ancient stone of the plaza began to violently tremble. A low, subterranean groan vibrated up through the soles of Nathan’s boots.
"You think you’ve won?" the operative spat, his face twisted in absolute zealotry. "Clamour sends his regards, Bunny king! The Whispering Dark Tower will be your tomb!"
He crushed his fist, shattering the device entirely.
A tsunami of absolute, suffocating darkness erupted from the fountain. It wasn’t the magical suppression of the Tower; it was a localized, catastrophic collapse of the Floor’s architecture. The cobblestones beneath their feet buckled and split, deep fissures tearing through the ancient tower city.
The ground pitched violently, throwing Nathan off balance.
And in that split second of chaotic, deafening ruin, the broad-shouldered operative who Elise had assumed was unconscious, lunged from the shadows.
He was gasping, blood leaking from his mouth, but his eyes were wide with desperate, suicidal fury. He swung his heavy iron mace in a brutal, blind arc.
Nathan’s [Hunter’s Insight] caught the movement, but his boots were sliding on the buckling stone. He tried to pivot, bringing Moonlight up to block, but he was a fraction of a heartbeat too slow.
CRACK.
The mace caught Nathan flush across the left side of his ribcage.
The impact was horrific. He felt the bone instantly give way, a deep, sickening crunch that stole the air from his lungs. Moonlight clattered from his numb fingers. The world tilted violently sideways, and he hit the floor hard.
An absolute and blinding pain flared through his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Every gasp felt like swallowing broken glass. His vision swam with black spots. The Mana Capacitor was completely dead. The Leyline Ring was a dim, useless band on his finger.
The operative stood over him, raising the mace for the killing blow. "Die, you useless—"
"MASTER!"
Mirko’s scream tore through the telepathic link... a sound of such raw, unadulterated terror and fury that it made Nathan’s skull ring. But she was too far away. The buckled ground separated them.
But Kuro was not.
She didn’t run; she simply ceased to exist by the fountain and materialized between Nathan and the descending iron mace.
[Blind] flared, catching the operative point-blank across the face. He staggered, his swing going wide and crashing into the stone beside Nathan’s head.
Kuro didn’t hesitate. She didn’t demand a yield.
[Assassinate] drove both shadow-forged daggers smoothly up under the operative’s ribcage, piercing his heart and lungs simultaneously. The man’s eyes bulged, his mouth opening in a silent, blood-choked gasp. Kuro ripped the blades free, and he collapsed in a dead heap beside Nathan.
Nathan lay on his back, staring up at the crumbling, lightless ceiling of the subterranean tower city. The pain in his chest was radiating outward, turning his limbs to lead.
He could hear his party through a thick layer of static. Mirko’s voice, raw and frantic. Garrett roaring for a healing potion over the sound of the earthquake. Dillon swearing violently. Elise’s voice, normally so cold and composed, cracking with a tight, desperate edge.
"Hold pressure! Stay with us, Nathan, stay awake—"
But the fountain exploded and the Tower gave a final, agonizing groan as the architecture around them began to collapse into the void.
Then, mercifully, Nathan felt strong arms lifting him. Mirko. Her warmth, the frantic beating of her heart against his ear. Kuro’s shadow fell over him, a cool, protective shroud shielding him from the falling debris.
They were moving. Retreating toward the portal as the floor fell away into nothingness behind them.
Nathan tried to speak, to tell them he was fine, to give an order. But the trapped air and blood in his lungs simply wouldn’t let the words come. His eyes rolled back, and the Whispering Dark finally pulled him under.