Chapter 66: The First Knight (Part 2)

Rolf did not draw a weapon. He did not need one. He exploded forward like a silver cannonball.

BOOOM!

The werewolf cleared the distance in three massive bounds, landing directly in the center of the mutant Slag-Crawlers.

"SCRAHHHH"

The monsters hissed, their grotesque, fused bodies lunging at him with venomous stingers and snapping mandibles.

ROAAAAR!

Rolf simply roared, a sound that violently shook the damp walls of the tunnel.

SLASH!

He swung his right arm, his elongated claws tearing through the thick carapace of three Crawlers at once.

SPLURT!

Dark, corrupted blood sprayed across the stone.

CRUNCH!

He grabbed a fourth mutant by the throat and crushed its windpipe with a sickening crunch.

He was a whirlwind of absolute, ancestral brutality.

"Intruders! Purge them in the name of the Maw!" one of the High Elf handlers screamed.

He stepped forward in his jagged bone mask, weaving a complex array of crimson magical circles in the air.

"Is that the best you can do, pointy ears?" Rolf taunted, ripping a crawler in half and tossing the remains aside.

"My grandmother knits faster than you cast!"

"Insolent beast! Burn!" the cultist shrieked.

SWOOSH!

A massive, condensed spear of boiling blood shot out of the magical array.

It was a Tier-3 evocation, aimed directly at Rolf’s exposed back.

Nyssa stepped out from behind me, adjusting her glasses with a calm, scholarly detachment.

She did not cast a shield or yell a warning.

Her emerald eyes glowed with raw, Aetherion power.

She simply raised her organic hand and flicked her wrist.

FLICK!

The Reality Weaver trait activated instantly. She did not counter the spell, she rewrote its fundamental physics mid-air.

The boiling Blood Spear suddenly lost all its kinetic momentum. The crimson magic unspooled like cheap thread.

SPLASH!

The lethal spear turned into a harmless splash of lukewarm water, pattering uselessly against Rolf’s silver fur.

The masked cultist froze in absolute horror.

His brain could not process how his highest-tier spell had just evaporated into nothing.

"What kind of blasphemy is this?" the cultist gasped, stepping backward in sheer panic.

"The blood magic cannot simply vanish!"

"It did not vanish," Nyssa stated coldly.

"Your mathematical framework was just pathetically flawed."

He never got a chance to reply.

Kaelith stepped directly into the dark shadow cast by the cultist’s own boots.

She bypassed physical space entirely, emerging from the Void directly behind him.

It was completely silent.

SHING!

Her dark daggers slid across the throats of the three remaining handlers in a single, fluid motion.

The cultists collapsed into the sewer water, choking on their own blood.

Kaelith flicked the gore from her blades and vanished back into the shadows before the bodies even stopped twitching.

"Show-off," Rolf grunted, wiping acidic blood from his snout.

The remaining Slag-Crawlers panicked.

Their handlers were dead, and their primal instincts screamed at them to flee the slaughter.

A massive, oversized mutant Crawler turned and lunged toward me in a desperate bid to escape.

’Am I getting underestimated by these shits?’

Its mandibles snapped wildly, aiming for my chest.

I did not move out of the way.

I channeled the boiling energy from my C-Grade core directly into my Vanguard Arm.

HISSS!

The reinforced Arcanium plating hissed loudly as it absorbed the thermal shock.

I stepped forward, driving my mechanical fist squarely into the center of the mutant’s armored skull.

KRA-KOOM!

The impact sounded like a cannon firing in a closed room.

The brass and Arcanium fist completely shattered the monster’s carapace.

Kinetic force rippled through its spine, instantly dropping the massive beast dead at my feet.

I flexed the mechanical fingers. Master Brakka had truly outdone himself. The arm did not even have a scratch on it.

"The perimeter is clear," Rolf growled, shaking the gore from his claws and stepping over the piled carcasses.

"Keep moving," I ordered, stepping over the crushed mutant.

"The main sanctum is just ahead."

We followed the curve of the tunnel until we reached a dead end. But it was not a normal stone wall.

It was a colossal blast door forged from reinforced steel and massive, fused white bones.

A complex, glowing red magical matrix was painted across the center of the door.

Nyssa stepped up to the door, her glowing eyes analyzing the matrix with intense focus.

"This is an ancient High Elf blood seal," she reported, her tone strictly clinical.

"It is designed to draw ambient mana from the sewers to power its locking mechanism. If anyone without pure High Elf blood touches this door, the seal will instantly incinerate them."

’A genetic lock,’ I sneered internally. ’These purists really love their bloodlines.’

"Can you unweave it?" I asked her.

"I can," Nyssa nodded, placing her hands near the glowing red lines.

"But it is an incredibly complex lattice. It will take me at least ten minutes to safely dismantle the arcane triggers without causing a detonation."

"We do not have ten minutes," Kaelith’s voice echoed from the shadows above us.

"The perimeter guards failed to check in. The base will go on high alert soon."

I looked at the massive steel and bone door. Then I looked at my newly upgraded Vanguard Arm.

’It is every man’s dream to Burst a Fucking Door!’

Brakka had reinforced this chassis with tempered Arcanium to handle C-Grade kinetic output. It was time to test exactly what that meant in the field.

"Step back, Nyssa," I commanded.

Nyssa quickly stepped away from the door, seeking cover behind Rolf.

I widened my stance, planting my heavy boots firmly into the wet stone floor.

I closed my eyes and connected deeply with the Neural-Steam Integration Link.

I forcefully bypassed all the internal safety limiters.

The heavy boiler strapped to my back shrieked as I dumped an ocean of raw, violent mana directly into the heating coils.

HSSSSSSSS!

The Arcanium plating on my arm began to glow a terrifying, bright orange.

Massive clouds of superheated steam vented from my shoulder joints.

The sheer pressure building inside the mechanical limb made the air around me warp and distort with the heat.

"I do not care about your bloodlines," I roared, pouring every ounce of my strength into the strike.

I threw my Vanguard Arm forward.

The brass fist slammed into the dead center of the High Elf blood seal.

The impact was deafening.

The genetic magic tried to incinerate me, but the reactive Arcanium plating absorbed the hostile energy flawlessly.

The steel groaned loudly. The massive bones cracked and splintered.

BOOOM!

The sheer, overwhelming kinetic force of a C-Grade Apex strike completely shattered the locking mechanism.

The blast door buckled inward, tearing violently off its heavy hinges.

The massive slab of metal and bone crashed onto the floor of the room beyond, sending up a massive cloud of dust and debris.

"HAHA! That was Amazing!"

I stood in the doorway, steam hissing aggressively from my glowing arm.

The pack moved in closely behind me, weapons drawn and spells primed.

As the dust slowly settled, we finally got our first look at the Ashen Maw’s central sanctum.

It was not a dark, gritty cult hideout. It was a sprawling, horrific laboratory.

The cavern was massive, lit by cold, sterile white magical crystals embedded in the high ceiling.

Rows upon rows of towering glass vats lined the walls.

Thick tubes pumped glowing crimson fluid into the vats, illuminating the grim contents within.

Rolf exclaimed, "Oh! This is Disgusting!"

I looked inside the nearest glass tube and felt my stomach twist in disgust.

"It sure is! I wouldn’t want this to happen on my worst enemy!" I said.

"...."

I paused and thought of that irritating Incubus.

"Maybe, I will."

Floating in the crimson fluid was a terrifying amalgamation of flesh.

It had the muscular torso of an Orc, the jagged claws of a Slag-Crawler, and the elongated, elegant skull of an Elf.

They were perfectly fused together, suspended in a state of unnatural slumber.

"The Chimera Project," Nyssa whispered in absolute horror.

"They are splicing beastkin and monster biology with High Elf genetic material. They are building an army of mindless, hybrid super soldiers."

’Ilyrana was right,’ I realized, feeling a cold fury settle deep in my chest.

’They view us as nothing more than raw materials for their war machine.’

At the far end of the cavern, a raised stone platform overlooked the laboratory.

Standing on the platform was a tall, incredibly imposing Elf.

He wore pristine white and gold armor.

His long blonde hair was tied back tightly, and his pale eyes locked directly onto me with absolute disdain.

He held a slender, glowing rapier in his right hand.

"You have broken into the private domain of House Vane, beast," the High Elf spoke.

His voice was perfectly calm, carrying an infuriating tone of absolute superiority.

"You just smashed a door that costs more than your entire miserable life," he continued, pointing his rapier at my chest.

"You will be dissected for this transgression."

"You have terrible taste in interior design," I taunted, stepping fully into the laboratory.

I let my Goblin Lord Aura flood the room with a crushing, dominant weight.

"And your security is a joke."

"I am Lord Therion of House Vane," he sneered, raising his glowing blade.

"I am going to enjoy carving the arrogance out of you, trench rat."

"I am not a rat," I stated coldly, raising my glowing, smoking Vanguard Arm.

"I am your Nightmare. And your experiment ends tonight."