Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory

Ethan actually laughed.

Inside the shield, he lifted a hand. A thread of white lightning appeared on his fingertip—not large, but unbelievably steady. It hung there like a thin white line, quietly snapping in place.

Then he slowly pointed at Orun.

"Your body’s mine."

Orun’s laughter cut off like someone had strangled it.

His expression locked up. His movements stalled in the same instant. Those huge eyes fixed on Ethan through the barrier as the smugness drained off his face, replaced by shock and a surge of furious alarm—like he’d only just realized something was wrong.

"...You."

He finally understood.

The ashen-gray seed of energy Ethan had planted inside him earlier had finally awakened. It had been hidden deep in Orun’s body, pressed close to his power, seeping in bit by bit. Now, pulled by the white lightning on Ethan’s finger, it spread through him in an instant.

At the same time, another seed—one that had already slipped into the warhammer’s core—resonated with Ethan’s lightning.

Orun’s hand barely had time to tighten—

—the hammer vibrated first.

The next second, the deep-black warhammer tore free of his grip with a heavy metallic hum and shot straight to Ethan. Midair, it shrank fast, going from a mountain-crushing titan of a weapon to something that could hover neatly in front of Ethan’s chest.

It stopped there.

Quiet.

Obedient—nothing like the artifact that had just been breaking the world.

Orun could only watch his divine weapon get taken while he couldn’t even move a finger. He threw his head back and roared, the sound nearly shattering the surrounding mountains. But the gray-white seed inside him kept dragging on his body, locking him in place, turning every motion into sludge.

Ethan looked at the hammer with bland interest.

A deep-black head. A fire-red handle. Ancient, complex forging patterns flowing over its surface—heavy in a way that felt almost beautiful, like mountains, furnaces, metal, and flame had all left their fingerprints in the lines.

Honestly... it was kind of sick.

Ethan glanced at Ataneya.

She got it instantly.

Twenty-four tails unfurled behind her, nearly filling the entire space inside the shield. The fox tails wrapped around the hammer from different angles as layers of dark energy seeped into the metal. The forging runes on its surface were pried open little by little, and dark red light bled out through widening seams.

Ataneya didn’t destroy it.

She dismantled it—piece by piece.

Orun watched his weapon get stolen, then ripped apart into scraps. His rage kept rolling out of his throat in hoarse, endless bellows. Plates of armor started dropping off him too. Black-and-red leaves of metal peeled away from his shoulders, chest, and arms, slamming into the ground with heavy clangs.

Everyone thought his power was collapsing—

—but Ethan suddenly frowned.

No.

The instant the hammer came apart, it didn’t actually lose its power.

It felt like something had been unsealed.

Black-and-red mechanical fragments burst from the broken warhammer with a shrieking grind of metal, swarming toward the armor plates falling off Orun. The pieces spun and snapped together midair, meshing with the plates like teeth. Cold red light flashed again and again along the seams as they locked.

Orun lowered his head.

The anger on his face twisted, slowly, into a vicious grin.

"You’re all going to die."

His voice dropped, carrying a metallic vibration, like it was echoing off steel.

"If you want to mess with me, you’d better decide which mountain you want to get buried in."

The moment the words left his mouth, Seraphina—still in the air—got hit.

A massive mechanical arm thrust out of the black-and-red swarm and smashed into her dragon body with terrifying force. Seraphina snapped her jaws open and blasted dragon breath point-blank. Crimson flame slammed into the arm—

—and when the fire cleared, there were only a few faint scorched lines left behind.

No real damage.

The arm kept driving forward and hammered into her again. Her huge body skidded sideways through the air, wings scything the wind and whipping up a violent gust.

Then more and more parts flew in from every direction.

They spun, clicked, and fused midair. Gears and armor plates latched together. Black-and-red light raced along every joint. The armor that had "fallen off" hadn’t vanished at all—it combined with the warhammer fragments, rebuilding into the shape of a goat-man body.

A cold, mechanical voice leaked out from inside it.

"You shouldn’t be buried in the mountains."

"You should leave nothing behind. Not even bones."

An aura beyond Tier 36 descended—slow, heavy, undeniable.

Metalforged Orun was born.

Black-and-red mechanical armor covered him head to toe, flashing with a harsh, blinding sheen. Orun raised a hand. Metal shards and dark red energy condensed in his palm, shaping themselves into a massive mechanical battle axe. The blade was clean and razor-straight, its edge flowing with a chill metallic gleam. Just lifting it made the air around it hiss with countless tiny cutting sounds.

His complete form—

—finished.

Orun leapt.

A thruster pack on his back ignited with blue flame.

BOOM!

His huge mechanical body rocketed straight into the sky. A long blue tail-flare carved a streak behind him, like he was about to punch out of the atmosphere. When the others looked up, all they could see was that black-and-red armored figure shrinking fast against the heavens—

—then snapping back into focus as he locked onto the ground again.

"DIE!"

Andona and Seraphina shot up to meet him.

Andona spread her golden wings and crossed her twin blades, slashing out holy light. Seraphina fired dragon breath and charged from the other side, her massive body crashing in to flank him. Left and right, both of them struck at the mechanical armor at once.

But holy blades or dragonfire—it didn’t matter.

Everything that landed only produced a harsh, mocking clang-clang.

The golden light was knocked aside. The dragon flame was swallowed by the black-red glow crawling over the plates. Seraphina’s claws raked his shoulder armor and only threw sparks; Andona’s blades chopped into his chest plate and still couldn’t break through.

That sound didn’t feel like defense being worn down.

It felt like the armor was laughing at them.

With no other choice, they fell back to Ethan.

Everyone was running on fumes now. Even Feylora’s recovery power was starting to bottom out. Green light still flowed in her palm, but it wasn’t as full as before, and the glow of the healing orb had dimmed noticeably.

And then—

Dense mechanical roaring rose from the arena’s outer rim.

Ethan looked up.

A huge wave of mechanical constructs poured in from all sides. Every one of them wore fitted armor and carried a giant axe. Their synchronized footfalls hit the ground with heavy, uniform metal thuds. Black-and-red light ignited across their bodies in sequence—like a steel flood charging in from every direction.

Seraphina was the first to move.

Her enormous dragon body swept past the shield’s front. She spread her wings and kicked up a blast of scorching wind. The steel tide was already close—black-and-red armor crashing against itself as they ran, giant axes dragging sparks across the ground.

Seraphina opened her jaws and unleashed dragon breath straight ahead.

Heat roared out from deep in her throat like a crimson torrent, scouring the front ranks. The flames slammed into their armor, turning metal red-hot instantly. Some plates caved under the burn, and the inner mechanisms screamed and warped under the temperature.

"Couldn’t deal with Orun—so you think I can’t deal with you?"

Light flared over her chest. An energy sphere rapidly formed between her scales as red radiance compressed again and again, tighter, brighter—

Then it fired straight into the densest cluster of the mechanical army.

BOOM!

The sphere detonated inside the steel flood, the shockwave flipping a huge swath of constructs into the air. Shattered armor, snapped axe shafts, and burning machine parts sprayed out in every direction. The perfectly ordered advance tore open into a gaping hole.

Andona refused to be outdone.

Her twenty wings spread fully as she hovered in midair like a golden sun. Dense Divine Power poured down from between her feathers, making thin wisps of white smoke rise off the black-and-red armor below. She swung her twin swords, leaving two blazing trails across the sky. Wherever her blades passed, golden holy light turned into sharp cutting arcs that slammed into the enemy formation again and again.

Then countless golden arrows erupted from between her wings.

They fell like rain, ripping the air with a piercing whine, pinning joints, chest plates, and heads with brutal accuracy. The constructs that were hit jerked to a stop—

—and then holy light detonated from inside them, tearing their bodies apart from within.

Another massive gap opened in the steel tide almost immediately.

Ataneya stayed in the rear, quiet—basically a turret.

She didn’t charge in like Seraphina and Andona. She remained near Feylora, eyes cool as she scanned the field. Any leftover trash that tried to slip close to the shield got a casual flick of her hand—an energy orb tossed like it was nothing. The orbs didn’t look flashy. They didn’t roar through the air.

But the moment one landed, it blew the target—and several nearby enemies—into shredded scrap.

Between the three of them, they forced the battlefield down through sheer power.