The air crackled with tension as the final chimera was different from the others emerged from the ruins-a towering beast with a body of rippling, blackened muscle. Its form was barely humanoid, with glowing veins of molten energy coursing across its grotesque frame. In its clawed hands, it wielded a massive sword of jagged obsidian.
"You've made it this far," the creature rumbled, its voice shaking the ground. "But this is where your rebellion ends. I will grind your bones into dust and offer your remains to the gods."
We stood frozen, the oppressive aura of the beast pressing down on us like a tidal wave. Arden and Draven exchanged glances, their exhaustion evident after their battles.
But anyone could move, Bran stepped forward, his gait calm, his expression unreadable.
"Enough of the theatrics," he said, his voice low but dripping with authority. "You're big, loud, and ugly. And you're already dead-you just don't know yet."
The beast roared, its molten sword cleaving the air as it swung toward Bran with devastating force. The ground split under the weight of the strike, sending the debris flying in all directions.
But Bran was no longer there.
In a blur of speed, he appeared at the beast's side, a small dagger glinting in his hand. I was shocked noticing that the captain didn't bother to use his sword. The blade was unimpressive compared to the massive weapon the beast wielded, but the air around it hummed with dark lightning.
"Is that all you got," Bran asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lip.
The beast growled, swinging again, but Bran sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. He dragged the dagger along the beast's side, leaving a trail of black lightning that exploded upon contact, ripping through its flesh.
The chimera howled, stumbling back as ichor poured from the wound.
"Pathetic," Bran muttered, his tone laced with contempt. "I expected more from you."
The beast roared in a fury, unleashing a wave of molten energy that tore through the ruins. We shielded ourselves from the blast, but Bran remained motionless, his dagger spinning lazily in his hand.
As the molten wave neared him, he raised a single hand. The energy stopped mid-air, twisting and crackling as dark lightning surged through it, consuming it entirely.
"Nice trick," Bran said, his smirk widening.
In an instant, he vanished, reappearing above the beast. His dagger came down in a blur, stabbing into the creature's shoulder. The air exploded with dark lightning, the crackling energy ripped through the beast's body and sending it crashing in the ground.
The chimera tried to rise, its molten veins glowing brighter as it unleashed a desperate, guttural roar. But Bran landed in front of it, his aura radiating an overwhelming presence that froze the beast in place.
"You've should have stayed hidden," he said, his voice calm but laced with arrogance.
With a flick of his wrist, Bran slashed the dagger upward, sending a surge of dark lightning through the chimera's body. The energy erupted from within, tearing the beast apart from the inside.
The creature let out a final, agonized scream before collapsing, its body disintegrating to ash.
Bran sheathed his dagger, brushing the dust from his coat. "That's it?" he asked, glancing toward us. "I was expecting more of a challenge."
Without another word, he walked past us, his stride confident his aura still crackling faintly with residual power.
As the dust settled, we followed, my gaze lingered on the remains of the fight, a stark reminder of the old man's overwhelming strength.