For the first time in this magical world, Martin found himself holding a small bottle wrapped in animal skin, containing several pieces of paper meant to maintain balance. It felt surreal, yet this small artifact was pivotal to his survival.
In the past three months, he had rummaged through piles of debris in his cell, utilizing everything he could find. Luck was on his side when he discovered a splendid piece of hide among the tattered scraps—a bottle of healing ointment. Unfortunately, the contents had dried up and rotted away, but the bottle itself remained intact, suitable for his purposes.
Nestled within the bottle was a four-fold flame magic scroll. Among the five magic scrolls Martin had mastered, the lightning scroll was the most destructive, but the fire scroll held the potential for even greater devastation when controlled correctly. A sudden burst of flame in a confined space could create an explosive force, akin to gunpowder igniting in a cannon.
Carefully, Martin placed the flame scroll into the porcelain bottle, adding broken ceramic shards for added impact, then sealed it tightly, leaving only a thin wire exposed. This wire was tied to his wrist; when the bottle was ignited, it would trigger the scroll within. Martin had spent countless hours perfecting this technique, knowing that even the smallest mistake could lead to disaster.
With a quick breath, he aimed the makeshift explosive at Busca, who was struggling to ascend the stairs, his bulky frame reflecting sheer disbelief. The bottle flew through the air, gaining momentum, and, in an instant, it crashed to the ground just two meters in front of Busca.
A deafening explosion erupted, sending shards flying in all directions. The flames illuminated the dim corridor, and even from a distance, Martin could see Busca's shocked expression morph into one of pain as the ceramic shards struck him.
As the smoke began to clear, Martin noticed Busca on the ground, bloodied and battered but still alive. The initial satisfaction of the explosion quickly faded as Martin realized the damage was not as severe as he had hoped. He clenched his jaw; he needed to act fast.
Martin drew his sword and sprinted towards the stairs. Though Busca was slow to recover, Martin's armor weighed him down, making his ascent cumbersome. By the time he reached the top, Busca had already retreated into the passage, his frantic calls echoing behind him.
"Kerry! Kerry, where are you? Help me!"
"Father!" Kerry's voice trembled with fear. "What's happening?"
"There's a monster down there!" Busca yelled, his voice hoarse. "No, it's not a monster… It's the hammerhead! He's got a hammer! Kerry, you have to help me take him down!"
"Quinn and Locke?" Kerry asked, her voice wavering.
"I don't know where Quinn is, but Locke is dead! That kid is dangerous!" Busca's panic was palpable, yet he struggled to regain his composure. "But don't be scared, Kerry. Just listen to me…"
The conversation faded as Martin realized that he was facing not just Busca but also his daughter. He knew she would be waiting at the exit, hands ready to strike. He couldn't risk exposing himself.
Instead, he turned back and made his way to the spot where Locke lay lifeless, retrieving a wooden box filled with magic scrolls. The weight of the box strained his muscles, but he pressed on, breathless from exertion and the oppressive heat surrounding him.
Once he set the box down on the stairs, he fished out a scroll, tearing it open before hurling it up the stairs. A brilliant flash of lightning shot forth, illuminating the room and drawing a scream from Busca.
A smirk crept onto Martin's face as he repeated the process, throwing up scroll after scroll—fire, lightning, wind, earth, and water.
Chaos erupted above as the spells collided, igniting the wooden structure and sending smoke curling downwards. The flames licked hungrily at the walls, while the wind intensified the blaze. The sound of cracking wood and the scent of burning debris filled the air, signaling the imminent collapse of Busca's refuge.
Martin knew he had to seize this moment. He could feel the panic rising among Busca and Kerry as they scrambled to escape the onslaught of magic. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the next phase of his plan.
He began to climb up through the thickening smoke, knowing full well that as soon as he breached the surface, he would unleash his next deadly trick. Time was running short, and the battle was far from over.