The coral ground cracked under Sevatar's boots as he lunged first, his twin knives flashing with ghostly light. Sunny and Saint followed half a step behind him, closing in on the seven twisted guardians barring the way to the locks.
The coral golems moved.
Like puppets of some ancient hatred, they surged forward in a coordinated assault. Despite their grotesque appearance, there was no clumsiness to their movements — only lethal precision.
The Knight led the charge, a towering figure clad in heavy coral armor, swinging a massive sword.
Saint intercepted it.
Shield raised, she took the blow head-on. The impact rang out like a thunderclap, the ground buckling beneath her. Sparks exploded as steel met cursed coral, but Saint held firm, pushing back with titanic strength.
To her side, Sunny clashed against the Slayer — a slender figure whose wicked curved blades moved in a blur, fast enough to slice the air itself.
He parried the first strike, sidestepped the second, and countered with a brutal thrust of the Midnight Shard.
The coral Slayer twisted, dodging with an inhuman contortion of its body, and retaliated with a scything cut that left a deep gash across Sunny's side.
Sevatar danced between two other guardians — the Hunter and the Stranger.
The Hunter loosed it's spears formed from shards of coral. Sevatar weaved between them, moving like a phantom. He closed the distance in an instant, ducking under a vicious swipe from the Stranger's shield and slamming one dagger into the hollow between coral plates.
A hiss of corrupted essence escaped.
But the Hunter was already on him, stabbing forward with a jagged coral spear. Sevatar twisted, deflecting the blow with the flat of his other blade, only to be smashed in the ribs by the Stranger's shield.
He stumbled, gasping for breath — but rolled under the next strike and countered with a lethal slash across the Hunter's leg.
Meanwhile, Saint fought a desperate struggle against both the Knight and the Builder.
The Builder — a tall figure whose massive warhammer crushed coral underfoot — swung a hammer-like mass of coral with brutal simplicity.
Saint had no choice but to endure, her shield flashing between strikes, deflecting titanic blows. She gave no ground, trading precision for sheer stubborn resilience.
Sunny fought with more desperation now.
The Priestess moved into the fray — a delicate, ethereal figure whose coral tendrils lashed out like whips.
Sunny barely ducked in time, feeling one of the tendrils graze his scalp, carving a shallow line of blood.
He cursed and retaliated with a rapid sequence of strikes, aiming low to cripple.
The coral Slayer met him head-on, deflecting each blow with whirling, dazzling movements. Together, the Slayer and the Priestess forced him back step by step, their attacks relentless.
Sevatar fared little better.
The Stranger adapted quickly, using his shield like a weapon to bash and trap, while the Hunter continued to harass him from a distance.
Despite his supernatural reflexes, Sevatar was grazed again and again — each blow stealing his momentum, bleeding him down.
He fought like a cornered beast, unpredictable and wild.
Suddenly, the Knight roared — a deep, guttural sound that shook the very coral ground.
The massive sword came down again, aiming to split Saint in half.
She braced.
The sword smashed into her shield, driving her to one knee. Coral cracked under her as she pushed back, gritting her teeth behind her helmet.
Sunny snarled and launched a desperate counterattack.
Sliding under a whip of coral tendrils, he closed the distance to the Priestess and slashed upward. The Midnight Shard bit deep into the golem's midsection, cleaving corrupted essence.
The Priestess stumbled.
Sunny pivoted, driving his knee into her chest and throwing her off balance.
Saint, seeing an opening, shifted.
She surged forward, knocking the Knight's sword aside and slamming her shield into its torso, staggering it back.
Meanwhile, Sevatar ducked a sweeping shield bash from the Stranger, spun low, and drove both knives into the back of the Hunter's knee.
The coral creature buckled.
Not wasting a moment, Sevatar tore the knives free and rolled aside just as the Stranger's shield crashed down where he had been a second before.
But for every small victory, the guardians pressed back harder.
The Slayer blurred into motion again, carving a shallow wound across Sunny's thigh. He hissed, falling back into a defensive stance.
The Builder smashed a crater into the coral where Saint had stood moments before. Only her quick reflexes saved her from being flattened.
Sevatar's shoulder was clipped by a spear, spinning him around — and leaving him vulnerable for a crushing backhand from the Stranger.
He flew across the coral and hit the ground hard, coughing blood.
The seven corrupted heroes advanced with silent, mechanical hatred, driving the trio toward the ancient gates.
The coral ground trembled under the weight of the fighting.
The six corrupted golems surged forward in a coordinated wave, pressing Sunny, Sevatar, and Saint back toward the massive gates. Above it all, the Lord remained unmoving at the rear — a grim overseer, watching with silent, calculating malice.
The Slayer and the Priestess flanked Sunny. Blades and tendrils slashed from both sides, giving him no room to breathe.
Saint clashed head-on with the Knight and the Builder. Their blows hammered into her shield with devastating force, each impact a thunderous explosion of sound.
Sevatar twisted and darted between the Hunter and the Stranger, both of whom moved like wolves, trapping him in a deadly pincer.
The six moved as one. Every strike was covered by another. Every feint was a trap. Every opening was an illusion.
A perfect, murderous dance.
Sunny grunted as the Slayer's blade skimmed across his forearm, drawing blood. He blocked another tendril swipe from the Priestess, only to catch a punishing kick to the ribs that sent him staggering.
Saint was locked in a brutal deadlock, trading massive blows with the Knight and the Builder. Sparks flew from each clash of shield and hammer, each strike digging gouges into her armor.
Sevatar ducked under a slashing arrow from the Hunter, then rolled away as the Stranger's shield nearly crushed him. He retaliated, slashing the Hunter across the thigh, but the golem barely slowed.
It was a slow, grinding death.
Bit by bit, they were being overwhelmed.
And still, the Lord stood silent and still, like a cruel monarch surveying the destruction.
Six corrupted golems — twisted echoes of the ancient heroes — assaulted Sunny, Saint, and Sevatar. Each attack was brutal, merciless, and horrifyingly precise. It was as if they were all moving under a single will, perfectly synchronized to kill.
And behind them, standing motionless like a dark idol, loomed the Lord.
The Lord did not attack. It did not move.
But the air around it shimmered with invisible force, and the movements of the six guardians were unnaturally sharp, impossibly fast. Their strikes came too quick, their defense too seamless. It was a slaughter barely held back.
Sunny was driven onto the backfoot by the coordinated onslaught of the Slayer and the Priestess. Saint was locked in a brutal struggle with the Knight and the Builder. Sevatar darted between blows from the Hunter and the Stranger, his daggers flashing like lightning — but even he was being steadily overwhelmed.
They couldn't win like this. Not while the Lord stood behind them, empowering the others with its unseen influence just like the Nephis empowering the sleeper army using the dawn shard.
Sevatar recognized it first.
Snarling, he made a decision.
He broke away, feinting left and slipping between the gaps of the coral warriors, sprinting toward the Lord.
The Stranger lunged after him, shield raised to strike.
Saint saw the movement and smashed into the Builder with a shoulder charge, knocking it sideways. Using the opening, she barreled into the Stranger, intercepting its charge with a full-body slam that sent both of them sprawling.
Sunny threw himself into the Slayer, locking weapons, desperately keeping her and the Priestess distracted.
Sevatar sprinted across the coral field, weaving through tendrils of cursed essence.
The Lord finally moved — but not to attack. It simply shifted its weight and raised its free hand in a dismissive gesture.
A wave of pure force slammed into Sevatar.
He stumbled, blood spraying from his mouth — but he didn't stop.
He lunged forward, throwing one dagger like a spear.
The Lord didn't even flinch. The dagger shattered harmlessly against an invisible barrier around it.
Sevatar gritted his teeth and pushed harder, weaving through invisible barriers, slipping through the cracks in the unseen defense.
The Lord was not meant for battle. It had no blade, no shield.
It was a beacon, not a warrior.
And Sevatar was a killer.
He closed the distance, ducked under another wave of force, and drove his second dagger deep into the coral under the Lord's armpit — where no armor covered the old, withered coral body.
The blow struck true.
The Lord shuddered.
A low, resonant hum filled the air as the empowering force radiating from it faltered.
Cracks spread from the wound, spiderwebbing across the Lord's chest.
Without hesitation, Sevatar tore the blade free and stabbed again, and again, each strike precise and merciless.
The Lord crumbled.
With a final shudder, the coral husk collapsed into pieces, its influence severed.
[You have slain an Awakened...]
The spell announced the kill.
And immediately, the six coral guardians slowed.
Their perfect coordination broke.
Their movements became clumsy, sluggish — like puppets with severed strings.
Across the battlefield, Sunny's eyes gleamed.
Without the Lord's empowerment, these things were strong, yes — but now they were merely monsters.
And monsters could be killed.
Saint slammed her shield into the Builder's face, staggering it, and drove her blade through its chest. But she also attacked by the other three and severely wounded.
Sunny parried the Slayer's sluggish attack and cleaved the tendril-wielding Priestess in half with a powerful strike.
Sevatar didn't waste a second.
Panting, he sprinted back into the fray, his daggers carving deadly arcs as he rejoined the battle.
The tide had turned.
What had been a desperate struggle a moment ago became a ruthless execution.
The coral guardians, once godlike in their assault, were now little more than hollow echoes.
And one by one, they will fall as the rain started to fall.