Chapter 242 – Wrath of a God
Commander Allistor:
Thunder roared across the sky, accompanied by a torrential downpour that fell with unrelenting fury. The boy stood motionless in the center of the storm, lightning crashing down around him. Instinctively, as if orchestrated by an unseen force, every single one of us took a step back when his piercing gaze locked onto us. My entire body screamed a single, primal command: RUN!
My hands trembled uncontrollably, and I had to shout internally to suppress the terror threatening to consume me amidst the chaos.
"Attention!" I barked at the soldiers around me. "Prepare for engagement! Form ranks! Combat Mages, hold your lines! Shooter Mages, ready your most powerful spells! Fight to kill!" My voice barely masked the fear coursing through me, but I knew there was no other choice. That boy had to be eliminated. Every instinct told me that even if a fragment of him remained, he would destroy us all.
Looking at him felt like staring into the eyes of a massive serpent ready to strike. The pressure was unbearable, and I had to force myself not to avert my gaze, even though my lungs felt as though they might collapse under the weight of it.
"Advance! Combat Mage Squadron!" another commander yelled, raising his sword to the thunderous heavens. "Attack!"
The torrential rain blurred our vision as darkness was sporadically broken by the glow of magical orbs and scattered torches. Above us, lightning snaked through the storm clouds, illuminating the battlefield with momentary flashes of blinding brilliance.
The Combat Mage Squadrons charged en masse, surging toward the boy like a wave of impending destruction. The rhythmic pounding of boots on waterlogged ground reverberated, a chaotic drumbeat mixed with the war cries of soldiers.
And yet, alone and unarmed, he remained still, staring us down with those eyes that seemed to pierce through our very souls. His posture was calm, but it bore an indescribable weight.
Then, without hesitation, he began running toward the advancing forces.
This boy is insane! He's charging an army by himself!
The sight was surreal. The boy, barehanded, dashed toward hundreds of soldiers wielding weapons and casting spells. The rain only heightened the drama, each drop cascading off his black hair as his determined strides echoed across the drenched battlefield. He was a mere silhouette against the chaos, yet somehow, he commanded the space around him with an overwhelming presence.
From our vantage point, it looked like suicide. Every soldier in that squadron was battle-hardened. Mages were casting spells, archers loosing enchanted arrows, swordsmen forming an impenetrable line. This was the elite force, the pride of the noble armies.
And there he was, sprinting alone toward that wall of steel and magic, rain soaking his clothes but failing to diminish the intensity of his movements.
"Is he out of his mind?" someone whispered beside me, but no one answered. We were frozen, caught in the web of disbelief and mounting tension that thickened the air.
The two forces collided with a deafening crash, the impact unleashing a shockwave that rippled through the area. The boy became a blur of speed, disarming a soldier with a devastating kick to the jaw. The soldier's sword flew from his grasp, and the boy spun with unparalleled dexterity, wielding the stolen blade with lethal precision.
Every slash was exact, every movement a deadly dance of steel. His technique was flawless, merciless.
He tore through the ranks like a living storm, sidestepping strikes with inhuman agility before delivering a kick that sent a man flying like a ragdoll. In one swift motion, he severed another soldier's arm, the blood spraying through the rain like crimson mist. He moved like a force of nature, cutting down soldiers one by one without hesitation.
"AH!" A soldier was flung violently, crashing face-first into the wall beside me. The sickening crack of his skull shattering filled the air as his face disintegrated into a grotesque mess of blood and bone shards.
"Fuck…" I muttered, unable to process the sheer brutality unfolding before me.
Chaos erupted around me as the boy continued his relentless assault against a sea of soldiers. Flaming arrows and knives streaked through the air, yet he deflected each one with precision. Wielding two swords, his movements defied comprehension. Every blade aimed at him was parried, every strike anticipated and evaded with an ease that sent chills down my spine.
He dashed forward, stepping onto a fallen sword on the ground, sending it spinning into the air. With a wind-empowered kick, he launched the blade with unerring precision, impaling a distant soldier. It was a massacre, but the cold, calculated way he carried it out was far more terrifying than the carnage itself.
Arrows and blades flew toward him, yet nothing found its mark. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, as he deflected each projectile with his swords. His fierce gaze swept across the battlefield, calm and composed amidst the chaos. When one of the soldiers shouted an order to fire, he became the next victim. The boy hurled his sword, the blade embedding itself in the man's face with lethal precision.
In a seamless motion, the boy snatched a knife from the air as if it were second nature and threw it into the neck of an approaching soldier. Without missing a beat, he pressed on.
A soldier propelled by fire magic charged at him with blinding speed, aiming for a lethal strike. The boy sidestepped effortlessly, as if he had anticipated the attack. With a swift motion, he locked the soldier's arm and, with a sickening crunch, broke it in half. The man's scream of agony was immediate, and I saw the jagged white of bone pierce through his flesh.
"You won't be needing this anymore," the boy remarked nonchalantly, ripping the broken bone from the soldier's arm and wielding it as an improvised weapon.
Another soldier charged, and the boy, without hesitation, drove the bone shard into the man's eye. The agonized scream that followed was cut short as the soldier was flung back by a ferocious strike.
A towering soldier wielding a massive sword charged at him with overwhelming force. The boy dodged at the last moment, allowing the giant blade to crash into the ground. Using the sword as a ramp, he sprinted up its length. At the peak of his leap, he delivered a spinning double kick, sending the massive soldier hurtling into a wall with bone-crushing impact. In one fluid motion, the boy yanked the massive sword from the ground and hurled it like a spear, impaling the soldier through the abdomen.
The Combat Mage squadron quickly encircled him, their weapons glowing with magical energy as they formed an impenetrable ring.
"Attack!" one of the leaders shouted, and the mages, enhanced by wind magic, surged forward in a synchronized assault.
The boy snapped his fingers, and with a blinding flash, a pair of glowing yellow nunchaku materialized in his hands. The weapons pulsed with light, as if they carried the power of the sun itself, leaving trails of golden sparks with every movement.
"Light magic?" I whispered, my heart racing. "That's supposed to be exclusive to High Elves… How does he have it?"
He wasted no time, spinning the nunchaku with such mastery that they became a blur of light. Each rotation formed dazzling rings of energy that blinded the soldiers, making it nearly impossible for them to close the distance.
The first soldier lunged, but the boy leapt into the air, spinning the nunchaku in a perfect arc and striking the man's face with crushing force. Before the soldier could hit the ground, the boy spun mid-air again, landing a roundhouse kick that sent another enemy sprawling.
"BAM!" A blinding explosion of light erupted as he landed, spinning the nunchaku so rapidly that they seemed to create an impenetrable shield around him.
One mage attempted to fire a wind spell, but the boy darted forward with blinding speed, dodging the attack and striking the mage across the side of the head, dropping him instantly.
Each move was deliberate, each strike absolute. The boy wasn't just fighting an army; he was dismantling it, one soldier at a time.
The boy continued to dance among his enemies like an ethereal warrior. He dodged spears and swords with breathtaking acrobatics, leaping and spinning through the air. In one swift move, he slid under a soldier's legs, swinging his nunchaku to strike the back of the man's knees, sending him crashing down with a scream. Pivoting on one foot, he delivered a devastating kick to the chest of another soldier, launching him several meters away.
"Focus on him!" the squad leader shouted, but it was already too late.
He dodged aerial attacks with impossible leaps, using the momentum to strike downward with tremendous power. Spinning his body at incredible speed, he struck two soldiers simultaneously with his nunchaku, the force of the blows knocking both to the ground with no chance to retaliate.
A group of soldiers attempted to attack him at once, but he leapt again, spinning through the air like an arrow and landing in their midst. His nunchaku struck one soldier with brutal force while his foot drove into another's stomach, sending him crashing into his own comrades.
A group of mages began chanting in unison, their hands brimming with fiery energy. "Grand Fire Barrage!" they shouted, unleashing a tidal wave of flames that surged toward him like an unstoppable inferno.
In response, the boy stomped on the ground, raising a massive column of stone that propelled him high into the air. The wave of fire roared upward in pursuit, but he did something unexpected. While still airborne, he exhaled a powerful blast of water, creating a tsunami that collided with the flames. The clash of the two elements triggered an explosive burst of steam, shrouding the battlefield in a dense, blinding mist.
"Water element… and earth element…" a commander beside me murmured in disbelief. "How is that possible?"
Through the dense vapor, his eyes glowed an intense blue. The fire mages, seeing that piercing light within the fog, froze in their tracks, paralyzed with fear.
"He stopped our spell!" one of the mages cried out in utter panic.
"Keep attacking!" another shouted, but the creeping terror had already taken hold. The boy, his sharp gaze and determined stride cutting through the mist, showed no sign of mercy.
The Combat Mages, bolstered by their elemental powers, charged at him with incredible speed, but his words made them falter for a split second:
"Do you think a few years of training prepare you for war against me?" he said in a menacing tone, raising his arm toward the sky. "I've seen larger, braver armies than yours. They fell all the same!"
And then, something utterly horrifying occurred. The rain falling on the battlefield froze midair and began to ascend, as if the heavens themselves were pulling it back. The droplets coalesced into a massive sphere above the boy, swirling slowly at first.
The dark clouds blanketing the sky started to converge, drawn toward the colossal sphere. Lightning streaked through the water, illuminating it with an eerie blue glow. The wind grew ferocious, cutting like invisible blades and kicking up dust and debris. The atmosphere became suffocatingly heavy, as if the air itself was being drained from our lungs.
The sphere spun faster and faster, its sound deafening as the roar of the wind merged with the crackling of thunder, emanating from within the swirling maelstrom. The water continued to grow, fed by the rain and drawing power from the churning black clouds above.
Soldiers around me began retreating, their faces pale with terror. I stood frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from the spectacle. The boy, standing at the epicenter of the chaos, raised his hand toward the heavens as if commanding the destructive force. His glowing eyes burned with an otherworldly intensity.
The sphere kept spinning, faster and faster, until everything around it seemed to be drawn in: air, light, even sound itself. Then, for a brief moment, the rotation slowed, like the silence before an explosion.
It was in that instant that the true nature of what he was creating became terrifyingly clear.
"It's a Tornado!" a soldier beside me screamed, his voice trembling with unrestrained fear.