But the Flame Drakes' power was too intense—scorching, wild, and violent. As Ethan pulled the energy into himself, a searing pain ripped through his body, like he was being torn apart from the inside. "AAAGH!" he screamed, staggering. It felt like his flesh was being shredded molecule by molecule. He immediately threw the Flame Drake away and stumbled back, barely managing to stabilize himself. Feylora sensed his distress and rushed over. Without a word, she grabbed two nearby Flame Drakes and unleashed her terrifying absorption ability again. "Master, are you okay?" she asked, concern in her voice. Ethan waved her off, breathing hard. "I got cocky," he admitted. "Their energy's too much for me. If I keep trying to absorb it, I'll die down here." He paused, then added, "You stay here and keep absorbing. I'm heading back up—I'll be right back." With that, he shot upward like a missile, breaking through the layers of molten energy until he emerged above ground, hovering high over the ruins of Skygate Castle. BOOM! Thıs text ıs hosted at 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝙣𝙚𝙩 The battlefield was a warzone of chaos and fury. Both sides were locked in a brutal deadlock—neither gaining ground, neither backing down. The clash had reached a boiling point, and victory was still anyone's guess. Ethan scanned the battlefield with a sharp eye, then motioned for Andona, who was circling the outskirts, to come over. Before she could even ask what was going on, Ethan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her underground with him. The moment they dropped into the subterranean chamber, the raw, pulsing energy hit Andona like a drug. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and without hesitation, she dove straight into the glowing red liquid, greedily drawing in its power. Her wings flared with radiant light, glowing brighter than ever. Ethan gave her a quick nod. "Andona, listen. Go back up and start rotating our people in here, one by one. Don't tell them what this place is—just say it's my order. That's all they need to know." Andona instantly understood. No questions asked. She shot back up to the surface, her wings slicing through the air like twin blades of light. In one smooth motion, she cut down two enemies with her wing-blades, then grabbed Ataneya by the arm and hurled her into the pit below. Ataneya barely had time to react—but the moment she touched the energy, her instincts kicked in. Her eyes widened with exhilaration, and she plunged into the liquid, absorbing the power like a starving beast. Her tail shimmered, pulsing with energy. Ethan kept the rotation going, cycling Emerald Castle's warriors through the underground chamber. One after another, they soaked in the energy, their strength skyrocketing, their levels climbing to heights they'd never imagined. Time passed—how long, no one could say. By the time the energy pool was more than halfway drained, the battle above had nearly reached its conclusion. And Emerald Castle had won. They'd wiped out the enemy forces completely. When Ethan finally emerged from the depths, all he saw was a field of corpses—blood-soaked earth, shattered weapons, and the broken remains of those who had dared to stand against them. Emerald Castle had taken some losses, sure—but nothing they couldn't recover from. Especially now that Ethan had discovered a Creature Dwelling nearby, a place where he could summon reinforcements endlessly. Suddenly, a pile of corpses twitched. Then, from beneath the bodies, a hunched, wiry old man slowly rose to his feet. He looked frail, almost pathetic—until you saw the twisted grin on his face and the wooden staff clutched in his hand, covered in glowing runes. "Heh… HAHAHA! Finally! The day has come!" the old man cackled, his voice cracked and manic. The staff in his hand pulsed with a dark, terrifying energy. Ethan's eyes narrowed. Something was off. The guy's level wasn't even that high—barely early 17 Tier—but the power radiating from him was… wrong. Twisted. The runes on his staff were syncing with his aura, drawing in the blood-soaked air around them like a vacuum. His level started climbing. In just moments, he broke through to mid-17 Tier. "What the hell?!" Ethan's eyes widened. The guy wasn't stopping. He kept absorbing the blood energy from the battlefield, feeding off the carnage like a parasite. This place had just seen a massive war—hundreds, maybe thousands dead. If this freak could level up just by absorbing blood and decay… Ethan's stomach dropped. He yanked open his system interface and scanned the guy's data. What he saw made his blood run cold. This wasn't just some random necromancer. The guy could absorb blood essence from the dead to level up—and not just that. He could feed on any form of corruption, rot, or decay. He was a walking plague. "Shit… Varlok?!" Ethan blurted out. If this guy kept going unchecked, he'd hit 18 Tier in no time—and once that happened, he'd be unstoppable. He'd wipe out everyone in Emerald Castle without breaking a sweat. "Kill him!" Ethan barked. The order was instant. Emerald Castle's forces surged forward, weapons drawn, eyes blazing. Screams tore through the battlefield as Varlok's transformation reached its terrifying peak. His eyes—once sunken and dim—now glowed a deep, blood-red, burning with unholy fire. The frail, hunched figure from before was gone. In his place stood a man in his early twenties, lean and sharp, his body radiating raw, violent power. His skin shimmered with a sickly sheen, and every breath he took seemed to pull in the blood-soaked air around him. He looked reborn—young, strong, and utterly monstrous. A few goblins tried to rush him, but the moment they got close, the aura around Varlok exploded outward like a shockwave. They didn't even have time to scream. Their bodies were shredded into chunks of meat mid-air, blood spraying in every direction—only to be instantly drawn back toward Varlok, absorbed into his body like fuel into a furnace. He wasn't just a mage. He was a walking massacre engine—feeding off death, growing stronger with every drop of blood spilled. Ethan's eyes narrowed. He understood immediately—this wasn't someone you could overwhelm with numbers. Throwing more bodies at him would only make him stronger. "Everyone fall back!" Ethan shouted. "Elira—he's yours!" Elira didn't need to be told twice. She'd been itching for a real fight. After the last battle, her power had surged to new heights—her level, her aura, everything about her screamed apex predator. This was her moment to unleash it all. A dark, violent energy erupted from her body, swirling around her like a storm. Then—FWOOOSH—her form blurred, and above the battlefield, a massive black Demon Moth took shape, its wings stretching wide across the sky, casting a shadow over everything below. And then she dove—wings slicing through the air like blades, her entire body wrapped in a vortex of dark energy as she hurtled straight toward Varlok.