The wind carrying ash and blood rushed through Foster's coat as he rounded the last hill. His gaze fixed on the horizon... and his heart sank.
Vollua was burning.
The immense, thousand-year-old trees that supported the elven city were ravaged by flames, their once majestic branches reduced to glowing torches. The suspension bridges linking the platforms had collapsed, throwing the dwellings into the void. Everywhere, charred pieces of wood and ivory rained down like a funeral rain on the floor of the burning forest.
The flames crawled up the trunks, turning the canopy into an infernal inferno. The smell of burning flesh and blood saturated the air. Cries of agony and the death rattle of dying elves mingled with the bestial howls of the Obscurus, who devoured their prey with unspeakable savagery.
Foster felt something break inside him.
A dull roar rose from his throat, then turned into a demented laugh. His lips stretched into a monstrous smile, revealing his sharp fangs. His hand closed on the hilt of his katana, which vibrated with the call of blood.
His rage was a raging torrent, a cataclysm ready to engulf this world. He was going to wipe them all out.
Foster hurtled towards the city like a meteor, his Ki exploding around him in a hurricane of green and blue power. He landed on a wooden platform right in the middle of a horde of Obscurus, triggering a telluric shock that pulverised the slats beneath his feet.
They didn't even have time to react.
His katana whistled through the air, severing a dozen creatures in a single strike. Their bodies split cleanly in two, spilling black bile all over the collapsed walkways.
[Ding...] [Ding...] [Din...] [Di...]
The system notifications kept coming, but he hardly paid any attention to them.
A monster tried to attack him from behind.
Without even turning around, Foster slammed his fist back. A vile crack sounded as his fist pierced the monster's ribcage, ripping out its blackened heart in one swift movement.
Another leapt at him. Foster raised his hand and summoned the roots of the World Tree.
They sprang from the ground like hungry snakes, piercing and dismembering the Obscurus at supersonic speed.
The carnage continued.
Foster advanced like a spectre of death, reaping, slaughtering, crushing. His silhouette became a blur of speed and destruction. His blows were surgically precise, his body a killing machine of inhuman efficiency.
The Obscurus screamed and tried to retreat, but it was too late.
Foster was no longer a hunter.
He was an executioner.
His laughter became hysterical as he plunged his hands into the still warm entrails of his enemies, ripping out spinal columns, pulverising skulls beneath his fingers.
He loved it.
He enjoyed the carnage.
His clothes were soaked in blackish blood, his body covered in superficial wounds that closed almost immediately under the effect of the Seed of the World Tree which, without him realising it, kept growing inside his body.
Then an oppressive silence fell over the city.
The horde of Obscurus had stopped.
A hoarse cackle sounded.
Foster slowly raised his head.
Perched on the charred ruins of a high platform, a massive figure watched him with cruel amusement. Its body was an aberration of nature: a skeletal frame covered in a chitinous carapace, membranous wings burnt by black energy, and two twisted horns that split the mana-saturated air.
Its blood-red eyes shone with a perverse intelligence.
- Interesting. Perhaps you'll give me more amusement than the other buffoons of your ilk.
His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed throughout the city. A crushing presence descended on the atmosphere, plunging the area into an unearthly chill.
Foster smiled a demented smile, slowly straightening his katana.
- If you think having fun means having my sword up your fat, stupid arse, then yes, we're going to have fun!
The monster descended with a graceful leap, landing with suppleness.
- Laugh while you can.
Foster burst out laughing.
- Shit while you still can! Foster snarled before hurling himself at his opponent.
The battle raged on, a cataclysm of brute force and occult power. Foster and the General of Hell clashed with unparalleled ferocity, their exchanges splitting the air, shattering what remained of the thousand-year-old trees that supported Vollua, reducing the ground to a smouldering field of ruins.
Foster leapt, his katana creating a sharp arc of energy. The general took a fluid step back and held out a clawed hand towards him. A wave of black demonic Ki materialised in the form of a swirling sphere.
- Devour.
The sphere split into a myriad of hissing shadow snakes that charged at Foster. He split the air with his katana, cutting several of them, but others wound themselves around his limbs, seeping under his skin like parasites.
The pain was immediate and unbearable. His veins turned a sticky black and a burning sensation took hold of him. He grunted, then in a burst of will, released a blast of Ki. His green and blue energy surged like a tidal wave, eradicating the dark entities in an instant.
- Not bad... smiled the General, amused. But can you handle it?
He disappeared in a cloud of shadows, then reappeared behind Foster, his right hand radiating an evil purple light. Before Foster could react, a claw of energy slammed into him.
He barely dodged, but his left arm was slashed through and through. Blood flowed in abundance. He gritted his teeth, pivoted on himself and projected a wave of sharp roots.
The general jumped back, but one of the roots pierced his left shoulder. He let out a guttural cackle before tearing himself from the shackle with inhuman violence. A blackish liquid oozed from his wound, closing almost immediately.
- A miserable insect like you dares to hurt me?
The sky turned red.
The General raised his arms and a storm of dark Ki gathered around him. Black lightning streaked the atmosphere. The ground cracked under the pressure of the energy. Then he formed an immense spear of shadow, imbuing it with pure demonic magic.
- You are nothing.
He launched his attack.
The spear shot through the air at an astonishing speed. Foster tried to avoid it, but the instant he moved, it split into hundreds of sharp fragments that surrounded him.
Trapped, he invoked his second spell, a cocoon made from the hardest bark of the World Tree itself.
The protection afforded by his spell held out, but it sapped the majority of Foster's mana reserves and he was unable to hold the spell for long under the powerful and relentless attacks of the Hell General, who tried to make him yield.
This was achieved when Foster's magic reserve fell to zero and the general's attack exploded on contact, throwing him through several collapsed buildings.
Foster struggled to his feet. He was panting, his body riddled with wounds. He was at his wits' end.
The general walked towards him slowly, savouring his victory.
- You'll have lasted a little longer than the others, but the fun ends here.
He accumulated an immense quantity of demonic Ki in his right hand. A blade of black energy, as sharp as death itself, took shape.
Foster tried to move... but he was too slow.
The attack was about to fall on him.
- NO!
The world froze.
Foster felt his body become too heavy, his muscles tense. He was at the end of his tether.
He was going to die.
A figure appeared in front of him.
She had rushed forward without thinking, driven by an irrepressible impulse. Her instincts had led her here, her legs had run before her mind even realised what she was doing.
The demonic blade pierced her through and through.
Her body shook with the impact, her eyes widened in shock. Blood spurted from her mouth in a scarlet stream.
Foster screamed.
- LÏANNA!
She wobbled and slowly turned her head towards him. Her gaze was soft, filled with sadness... and one last ounce of affection.
- What happened to you, you idiot.... she murmured in a breath that was barely audible.
Then her body collapsed, inert.