Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 162: A deathblow

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh...

One after another, massive 13-Tier Behemoths and even more terrifying 14-Tier Ancient Behemoths burst out of the Behemoth Lair, charging headlong into battle without a shred of fear!

They slammed straight into the oncoming Hydra army, and in an instant, the battlefield exploded into chaos.

The beastkin’s strength lies in their fearless, relentless nature. They fight with everything they’ve got, never backing down. Magic might be their weakness, but they’ve never feared it. Hunger gnaws at them constantly, but they never bow to it. That’s where their terrifying willpower comes from.

They’re one of the fiercest, most battle-hardened races in existence—utterly unafraid of death.

If you want a fight, they’ll give you one.

And the moment the Behemoth horde clashed head-on with the Hydra army, the tide of battle began to shift—fast.

The Hydra forces were massive in number: 57 Hydras at Tier 13, and 11 Chaos Hydras at Tier 14.

The Behemoths? Barely more than half that.

Only 38 Tier-13 Behemoths, and 7 Ancient Behemoths at Tier 14.

But even with fewer numbers, the Behemoths were clearly stronger—pound for pound, they outclassed the Hydras at every level.

BOOM! RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE...

Despite their mountain-sized bodies, the Behemoths moved with shocking speed and agility—like freight trains with the reflexes of jungle cats.

They were fast. Unbelievably fast.

And when they attacked, their massive arms blurred into afterimages, smashing into the Hydras with devastating force.

The Hydras were being pushed back—hard. Some were already in serious trouble.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

One 13-Tier Behemoth was taking on two Tier-13 Hydras by itself—and not only was it holding its ground, it was actually gaining the upper hand!

The fight was brutal, the air thick with dust and blood. In just a few heartbeats, they’d already clashed more than ten times.

SPLURT!!!

A savage swipe of the Behemoth’s claw sent blood spraying through the air.

One of the Hydra’s heads was torn clean off, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

The wounded Hydra let out a shriek of agony, thrashing wildly from the pain of its severed head.

ROAR! ROAR! ROAR...

Even with blood pouring from its neck, the Hydra’s remaining heads burned with fury. It was badly hurt, but still feral—still berserk.

It lunged at the Behemoth with all eight of its remaining heads.

CRUNCH!

This time, the Behemoth couldn’t dodge in time.

The Hydra’s eight snarling heads sank their fangs deep into its flesh, tearing into it with savage force.

Razor-sharp fangs—

—sank deep into the Behemoth’s flesh, pinning its massive body to the ground like a nailed-down beast.

ROAR! ROAR! ROAR...

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The Behemoth let out a thunderous roar, thrashing wildly as it pounded its fists into the wounded Hydra latched onto it. Each blow landed with bone-crushing force, sending blood spraying in all directions and shaking the earth beneath them.

Cracks spiderwebbed out from under their feet, splitting the ground with every impact—jagged, gaping, and terrifying to behold.

ROOOAAARRR!!!

At the same time, another Hydra lunged in like a beast gone mad, trying to finish the Behemoth off—but no matter how hard it struck, it couldn’t bring the monster down.

SHRRRIP!!!

With a savage swipe, the blood-soaked Behemoth tore through the already-crippled Hydra in front of it—its claws ripping straight through flesh and bone, exploding the creature’s body into a mess of gore and shattered limbs.

It was dead before it hit the ground.

ROAR!

And even then—battered, bleeding, barely standing—the Behemoth didn’t stop.

It turned, eyes blazing, and lunged at the next Hydra with blood-drenched claws, throwing itself into another brutal melee.

This was raw, unfiltered savagery.

This was what it meant to be a Behemoth.

Their courage was terrifying. Their ferocity, unmatched.

Just watching them fight made your skin crawl and your heart race.

This was the essence of the Behemoth race—fearless, unyielding, and born for war.

The more they bled, the harder they fought.

And they had a terrifying racial trait: Berserk—a state of pure rage and power.

The more damage they took, the more devastating their attacks became.

Sometimes, they could even unleash a suicidal strike that ignored all defenses—a final, desperate blow that could cripple or even kill a wounded Legendary Unit of the same Tier.

And that last claw strike? That was exactly that—a deathblow.

"You filthy apes! You dare keep fighting?!" Chaos Hydra Thal’Zor roared, his voice dripping with fury as he watched his kin fall one after another.

ROAR! ROAR! ROAR...

All nine of Thal’Zor’s monstrous heads screamed in rage as he surged forward, slithering with terrifying speed toward the nearest 13-Tier Behemoth, jaws wide and ready to tear it apart.

But just as he was about to strike—

He felt it.

A sudden, bone-deep sense of danger.

He veered off instinctively.

BOOOOM!!!

The ground exploded like a bomb had gone off, shaking violently—like a magnitude-nine earthquake had just hit.

Thal’Zor whipped his heads around—and froze.

Right where he’d been standing a second ago, a towering beast had landed with earth-shattering force.

It was massive—easily a thousand feet tall—and cloaked in a blinding platinum-white aura. Its body radiated raw, primal power.

The ground beneath it had been obliterated, leaving behind a crater nearly 700 feet wide.

"Balthazar..." Thal’Zor hissed, eyes narrowing, voice low and venomous.

Balthazar, the Behemoth Warlord.

"You worthless worms still have the guts to show your faces here?" Balthazar growled, his voice like thunder. "Fine. Then today, the Behemoth race will bury you all!"

"Everyone—KILL THEM ALL!"

With a deafening roar, Balthazar charged straight at Thal’Zor.

THUD! THUD! THUD! freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

He moved like a bolt of white lightning—blindingly fast for something so massive.

In the blink of an eye, he was on Thal’Zor, and the two titans collided in a clash that shook the heavens.

BOOOOM!

RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE...

Their battle was apocalyptic.

Every blow sent shockwaves tearing through the air, the sheer force of their strikes creating violent gales that ripped across the battlefield.

The ground trembled. The sky howled.

Within a six-mile radius, no one dared get close.

And just then—off to the east of the Behemoth Lair, across the scorched desert hills—

They appeared.

Dozens... no, hundreds of blood-red Manticores, their wings spread wide, barbed tails twitching, venomous stingers glinting in the sun.

They covered the hills like a living tide of death.

And they were all headed straight for the battlefield.

...