In the last chapter, Solomon charged forward like an unyielding comet, aiming to shatter the ominous magic formation that emanated a palpable aura of evil. Now, mere steps away from the formation, the defensive mechanisms surrounding it exploded with unrelenting ferocity, as if enraged beyond measure—a primordial beast awakened to destroy all intruders.
"Is this all you've got? Pathetic!" Solomon scoffed inwardly. Despite the torrents of dark magic raining down upon him, his resolve remained steadfast, his eyes sharp with unwavering determination. The space around the formation warped violently, twisted by an invisible force, creating dark vortices that howled like ravenous maelstroms, threatening to consume him whole.
"Come at me! I, Solomon, will never back down!" he roared, his Starblade radiating a defiant light. But even with his quick reflexes, he couldn't avoid all the attacks. A few tendrils of dark energy lashed at him, searing through his flesh like thousands of needles piercing at once. Pain shot through his body, sharp and unforgiving.
"This pain? It's nothing!" Solomon gritted his teeth, his voice laced with both defiance and courage. Despite his injuries, he pushed forward, fighting against the overwhelming pull of the dark vortices and the relentless barrage of attacks. Each step he took was a battle against forces that sought to crush him. His body bore the marks of the struggle—deep gashes, seeping blood that stained his armour and garments. Yet, his eyes burned brighter than ever, a blazing torch against the suffocating shadows.
At last, after a brutal and arduous fight, Solomon broke through the final layer of defences and stood before the magic formation.
"This is it! Now or never!" Solomon shouted as he raised the Starblade high. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he drove the blade towards the heart of the formation. As the blade made contact, the formation erupted in an intense, blinding glow. Within the light, distorted demonic faces twisted and writhed, their anguished howls filling the air as they struggled desperately against Solomon's assault.
"Your reign of evil ends here!" Solomon bellowed, his voice ringing out like a clarion call. The Starblade clashed with the formation's core, producing a deafening metallic screech that reverberated through the chamber, shaking the very foundations of the temple.
A massive force rebounded through the blade, nearly enough to tear it from Solomon's grasp. The sheer intensity of the backlash threatened to shatter him. "I won't fail!" he roared inwardly, channelling every fragment of power within him. His lifeforce, his sacred combat energy, and the natural forces he had mastered flowed together, merging into a torrent of unyielding strength that surged into the Starblade.
The blade inched deeper into the core, each fraction of movement requiring Herculean effort. It was as if he were locked in a life-or-death struggle with the entirety of the dark realm itself.
But just as Solomon was on the verge of breaching the core, an unimaginably powerful surge of darkness erupted from the formation. The force was like a colossal dragon, furious and unstoppable, lashing out with destructive intent. It struck Solomon with devastating force, flinging him through the air as if he were weightless.
"No!" Solomon's voice echoed as he was hurled back, his figure cutting a long arc through the air before crashing violently to the ground.
"Urgh…" Solomon coughed, blood spilling from his lips as pain wracked his battered body. It felt as though every bone had been shattered, every inch of his skin scorched by the searing force of the dark magic. Yet, even in this pitiful state, the fire in his eyes refused to be extinguished.
"I'm… not done yet," he gasped, his trembling hands reaching out to grip the Starblade once more, clutching it like a lifeline. It was more than just a weapon now—it was the embodiment of his hope, his conviction, his unbreakable spirit.
"This time… I will succeed!" Solomon whispered, his voice rising with renewed determination. Summoning what little strength remained, he closed his eyes, allowing himself a single, deep breath. In that moment, his sacred energy, the natural force, and his indomitable will fused into a singular, harmonious current within him. A brilliant glow enveloped his body—a radiant, life-giving light that seemed to defy the oppressive darkness around him.
"Let's end this!" Solomon roared, his voice cutting through the gloom like a trumpet heralding the dawn. This time, his charge was unlike any before. Like an unstoppable arrow loosed from a bow, he hurled himself at the formation, his every movement charged with a force of purpose so pure and overwhelming that it seemed to pierce even the deepest shadows.
As his strike neared its mark, the magic formation trembled violently, its dark energy churning like ink spilled into turbulent waters. Sensing the imminent threat, the dark forces retaliated, their movements growing more erratic, their malevolence more palpable. It was as though the darkness itself had become sentient, mounting one last desperate defence against the light.
Could Solomon's final, all-encompassing blow succeed in breaking through this overwhelming force? Or would the formation's last stand prove insurmountable? As the chamber quaked with the clash of light and shadow, the fate of the continent hung precariously in the balance.
Would the dawn come, or would the darkness prevail? Only the final, decisive moment would tell.