In front of Alex stood the towering figure of Morian, a giant with a victorious grin etched across his face. He raised his sword, aiming directly for Alex's head with a singular thought—ending his life. Alex's face twisted in fear as Morian drew closer, yet just as the blade came within inches of his head, a confident smile spread across Alex's lips.
A dark feeling gnawed at Morian's instincts, but his arrow had already left the bow, and he was helpless to change its course. In the next instant, Alex vanished into thin air, leaving Morian shocked, and in his place stood Vlad, evading the blow with effortless grace.
Before Morian could initiate his teleportation again, Vlad's spear found its mark, piercing through his neck and sending excruciating pain coursing through every nerve in his body. The agony was so intense that it disrupted Morian's concentration, halting his attempt to teleport. In one swift, merciless motion, Vlad severed his head, cleaving it from his body.
Morian's head and body tumbled to the ground, his face landing near Vlad's feet. Even in this broken state, his resilient vitality clung to life, though he felt it slipping away with each passing second.
"It seems greatness isn't destined for someone like me," Morian's severed head murmured, his fading gaze settling on Alex, who now stood over him.
"What's your name?" Alex asked, his tone intense as he looked down upon his fallen opponent. Morian was the strongest adversary he'd faced since the onset of the great change. If it weren't for Morian's own powers being unstable and his mind teetering between madness and clarity, the outcome of this battle could have been very different.
"I am Morian Benhaus," he replied, voice barely a whisper. "The cleaner of this place for thirty years."
As the light in his eyes faded, the entire realm trembled and began to disintegrate. With Morian's death, all traces of his power would vanish.
The red inferno around them shattered like glass, and suddenly, they found themselves back in a shattered room filled with scattered furniture. It was one of the tower's many floors.
Despite the sudden change in surroundings, Alex's focus remained on Morian's lifeless body. The battle had been brief, yet every move had balanced precariously between life and death.
With a weary sigh, Alex turned to where his severed right arm lay, which had teleported along with them. He picked up his arm and placed it at the stump, allowing his regeneration ability to take over. Using his power to manipulate blood, he stabilized the arm as the tissue and bones began to knit back together.
Once his arm had reattached, Alex turned toward his comrades. Terry remained unconscious, while Henry, who had escaped serious injury, stirred from exhaustion. He had depleted so much energy that it had driven him into a near-coma state.
Mike and Joanna looked at Alex as if he were a creature of nightmares. The battle had shown them a side of him they hadn't seen before. They hadn't even been able to withstand Morian's devastating aura, let alone join the fight and survive.
Leaning on Mike, Henry managed to stand up, his gaze on Alex full of complex emotions. The man he'd impulsively recruited had saved their lives and proven himself to be the strongest among them.
"Alex, I owe you our lives. Thanks to you, we survived," Henry said, looking at him with gratitude mixed with a pang of envy for Alex's overwhelming strength. Yet, as a man of honor, he could only acknowledge Alex's superiority.
"We are comrades. We fought together, bled together. Saving you wasn't something I wanted to do; it was something I had to do."
Every word from Alex was spoken with sincerity. They were comrades, even if they'd only known each other for a short time. Life and death had a way of forging bonds between people. He remembered a phrase he'd read many times: *Those who bleed with you in battle are your brothers.* And now, he finally understood what it truly meant.