Heinzel and Maloi moved forward, side by side—swords raised, a blizzard swirling around them.
The Aurellian sprinted toward them like a beast unchained.
They clashed.
Steel met steel. Ice hissed. The ruin trembled.
Their arms moved so fast they vanished from sight, a blur of fury and precision. Shockwaves cracked through the terrain, stone cratering with every exchange.
Though outnumbered, the Aurellian held his ground—and more.
He began to push them back.
With a low sweep, he hooked Heinzel's leg, toppling him.
Then—a brutal kick to the gut.
Heinzel gasped, blood erupting from his mouth as his ribs shattered. His body hurled backward at sonic speed, carving a deep, ragged trench in the ground as he tumbled.
Maloi stepped in, but too late.
The Aurellian grabbed her by the face—
Slamming her into the ground.
Then he raised his sword—
And drove it into her stomach.
She screamed.
Blood spilled across the broken stone.
---
Far away, the terrain shook again.
King Gozay, still pinned beneath the weight of a Aurellian, felt his rage ignite.
His voice, low and guttural, spilled with wrath.
"You infuriating Aurellians..."
Then—
Ice exploded outward.
A freezing shockwave burst from his body in all directions, crystallising everything within a 28-kilometre radius. Trees froze mid-sway. Stone snapped from the pressure. The Aurellian atop him froze solid, a sculpture of arrogance encased in eternal frost.
Gozay rose.
And punched him away.
The frozen body launched into the air like shrapnel. Mid-flight, it cracked—and then the Aurellian shattered the ice from within, roaring with defiance. He unsheathed his sword and leapt from the air, streaking straight toward the Elf King like a missile.
Frost surged around Gozay's body.
He narrowed his gaze.
"If you wish to end your life… I will happily oblige."
He drew back his fist.
It glowed white—not with mere magic, but with the force of a violent blizzard condensed into a single blow.
Then he struck.
A beam of concentrated, raging frost erupted from his fist, thick as a river and sharp as lightning. The Aurellian tried to dodge—but it was too fast. The beam blasted him, shooting him backward with relentless force.
It tore through section after section of the ruin, collapsing walls and bursting through debris.
The man's body finally slammed against the silver wall at the ruin's edge. He slid down, breathing heavily, his limbs unresponsive.
He was blind.
His arms—dead.
He could no longer see.
And in that moment, he understood:
He could not defeat the King.
---
In the Beniek Ruin, forty-eight individuals remained who were equal to or even stronger than Dreados or Omfry. Survivors—barely—from Pungence's wave.
Though the wave had not touched Gozay,
he was one of them.
In all of Ignir, only one man could best him.
The First Spellbound.
Their mere existence had long deterred foreign kingdoms from war.
Now—Gozay lifted his right arm.
Straight. Fingers straight, Still.
A blade of pure ice shot outward from his hand long and thin—glimmering like a line drawn by a god.
Thirty-two kilometres long.
He slashed.
The blade cut the air horizontally, a silent reaping stroke.
Back at the battlefield, the Aurellian standing over Maloi paused.
His feet twitched.
He looked down.
A thin line had been carved through his chest.
Then—
His body fell in two, perfectly bisected.
Maloi collapsed back, gasping, blood-soaked and stunned.
Heinzel groaned nearby, still clutching his ribs.
Gozay soared toward them, flying like a shadow of judgment.
As he neared the battlefield, he cast his spell.
Search.
His eyes widened.
His daughter was gone.
Very far.
Too far.
---
High above the ground, at the very edge of the surface, an Aurellian sprinted across the sky, feet bounding on invisible platforms of air. In his arms—
Eliana.
---
Back in the ruin, the Aurellian at the silver wall laughed as he looked up.
"You're too late, Elf King."
Then—the kings body twitched.
He screamed as a shock of electricity tore through his limbs. His body crashed into the ground, convulsing.
He grinned through the pain.
"It's about time it kicked in," the Aurellian spat. "I already knew I couldn't beat you. That thing cost me a fortune. When I entered Beniek, I knew I'd need it."
Gozay trembled. Lightning danced across his body.
The Aurellian yelled from above:
"No matter how strong you are in this world—
You can never beat the ancient artifacts!"
Then he leapt, disappearing upward, toward the opening Pungence had created.
---
The Spellbounds arrived too late.
Heinzel clutched his ribs, pale with pain.
"What's happening to him?" he groaned.
Maloi, blood trickling from her wound, pressed a hand to her belly. She could hardly speak.
Maria's eyes widened.
"Search."
She scanned the King's body.
"There's something small. Stuck to his side."
She reached for it—
Shock.
Her scream echoed through the ruin as she recoiled, hand smoking.
Maloi tried to freeze the device, but the ice melted instantly.
Jeron stepped forward, squinting at the artifact.
"There are inscriptions…"
His voice dropped.
"That's the language of the ancients. It's an artifact."
There was nothing they could do.
Nothing they tried worked.
Any other man would have died within minutes.
But Gozay—withstood it.
For fifteen minutes, his body convulsed in agony.
And then—finally—
The artifact lost its power. The magic flickered and died.
Gozay breathed.
Then collapsed.
---
He sat up slowly, trembling, his breaths ragged.
Maria ran to him, kneeling.
"Are you all right, my lord?"
But the King didn't answer.
His voice roared across the ruin.
"Search!"
His radius spread—fifty kilometres wide.
He felt nothing.
No trace of her.
His heart dropped.
"No…" he whispered.
He struck the ground with his fist—the ruin cracked, a crater forming beneath him.
Tears filled his eyes, spilling freely down his cheeks.
"I just got her back..."
"I had only just regained her… and now, I have lost her once more."
His voice broke.
He covered his face with his hands—
And wept.
---
Far below, on the third floor of the ruin, Pungence stood tall, brushing dust from his coat.
The echoes of devastation still trembled faintly through the stone.
He exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the abyssal depths around him. Then he muttered:
"Was that thing… a Seed?"
A strange look passed over his face—part awe, part urgency. Then came the thought that silenced all others:
"I will not lose this boy."
His jaw tensed.
"I will find him. Even if I must scour the entire world."
And with that, Pungence leapt, soaring upward from the broken floor like a thunderbolt unbound. His coat flared behind him like a blue flame.
---
Above, nestled against a wall torn and scorched from battle, Ziraiah sat with her knees tucked to her chest, forehead resting against her arms. Beside her, Anuel and Gustein lingered in exhausted silence. The air was still.
Then—
A voice broke the quiet.
"Hello."
Ziraiah stirred.
She lifted her head slowly—eyes red, lips trembling.
A massive figure stood before her, casting a long shadow in the dust. A man. Smiling gently. His dark blue coat fluttered in the faint breeze like a cloak of authority.
His green eyes sparkled with quiet warmth.
He knelt.
"My goodness… to think I would find Elvheins here."
Ziraiah's breath caught.
Pungence tilted his head, observing her face. Then he paused—his own heart reacting.
"One heartbeat?"
A slow smile crept across his face.
"What a wonderful day."
He looked her over with a tilted gaze, eyes narrowing just slightly.
"You're small for an Elvhein, though. Too small."
---
Gustein blinked, confused.
"Who are you?" he asked aloud, then turned to Anuel beside him. "Who's he?"
But Anuel wasn't listening.
She was frozen—eyes wide, body rigid.
Fear radiated off her like a storm.
Gustein followed her gaze, then looked back at the towering man before them.
Something clicked.
"…Please don't kill me," he whispered instinctively.
---
Not far off, Lisa, Daiel, and Sumshus knelt beside Jeriana, trying to patch the wounds that laced her body. Lisa pressed her hand to Jeriana's side, casting gentle healing spells, while Jeriana leaned limply against a jagged rock.
Daiel turned, eyes catching the silhouette beside Ziraiah.
"Uh… who's that?" he asked, nudging Lisa.
Sumshus followed his gaze—and his expression drained of colour.
His voice was almost a gasp.
"Oh shit… The Binding Hand."
Lisa's eyes narrowed. "That guy's huge. What are we gonna do?"
Sumshus shook his head. "It's just one of him. We can take him."
Daiel didn't blink.
"I wouldn't be so sure," he said slowly. "Look at Anuel."
They all turned.
She was still frozen. Unblinking. Mouth parted in fear.
Lisa's voice dropped to a whisper. "That man doesn't have mana. So either he's one of the non-gifted… or…"
Daiel finished the thought.
"He's like Dreados."
---
Pungence squatted slowly, bringing his large frame closer to Ziraiah. Though he still towered over her.
He raised one hand gently toward her.
"I am Pungence."
His voice was soft, almost fatherly.
"No need to be afraid. I won't hurt you."
Then his eyes shifted, locking onto Anuel.
They sharpened.
"Did these people kidnap you?"
His tone remained gentle—but fury simmered beneath the surface.
"How could you bring a child to a place like this?"
Anuel's lips trembled.
But no sound came out.
She couldn't speak.
She felt nothing from him.
No pressure.
No presence.
It was as if he simply… did not exist.
And that terrified her.
For she knew—more than anyone—just how dangerous he was. And yet his aura was absent, as though the world itself refused to acknowledge him.
That silence… was the most frightening thing of all.
Pungence turned to glance at Eryndor, still unconscious nearby.
His expression softened again.
"The two of you will be okay."
---
Gustein rubbed his chin.
"Pungence… Pungence…" he muttered, trying to place the name.
Then a memory struck him—sharper than lightning.
He was back in a massive silver chamber. A futuristic room, cold and filled with murmuring seers. His waver was parked nearby. A man lay lazily on a velvet sofa—green eyes, black hair. He smirked and said:
"I heard Pungence is in town. Maybe I'll get to meet him. I told you we come from the same village, right?"
The voice echoed in Gustein's mind as the present snapped back around him.
His eyes widened.
Pungence…? That Pungence?
His heart dropped.
That fool's so-called Pinnacle of Strength?
He stared at the man.
…He's… bigger than I thought.
---
Pungence smiled warmly again, turning back to Ziraiah.
"would you like to come with me?"
His voice was low. Calming. Honest.
"I can take you to your family."
At those words—
Tears fell from Ziraiah's eyes, unbidden.
Big, quiet sobs that shook her small frame.
Pungence's brows furrowed.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently.
But Ziraiah could not speak.
She just cried.
Because somewhere deep in her heart—
For the first time since this nightmare began—
She felt safe.
Gustein rose to his feet with a polished grin. "Mr Pungence," he said, gesturing toward Anuel, "we were kidnapped by her and her people. They forced us to come here… forced these children into this nightmare."
He clasped his hands together, voice pleading. "Please, take us out of this place."
Pungence turned, silent, his eyes drifting from Gustein back to the small figure curled beside the wall.
He knelt beside Ziraiah, gently brushing her trembling hand. His voice was soft, almost fatherly. "Is he telling the truth?"
Ziraiah nodded faintly.
Suddenly, a shockwave rocked the chamber. Omfry landed near them in a burst of dust and debris, his body battered, bloodied, breathing hard. He had three return scrolls clenched between his teeth, seven more jammed under one arm, and Dreados slung limply over his back. His other arm dangled, limp and immobile.
"I have return scrolls! Let's go!" he roared.
Then he saw him.
Pungence.
Standing calmly. Watching. Smiling faintly.
Omfry froze.
I didn't sensed him. At all.
Panic twisted in his gut.
He looked at Anuel, saw the fear carved into her face.
His eyes met Pungence's. And he understood.
He'd made a mistake.
He turned to flee—but that voice, that unshakable voice, rang out:
"STOP."
Omfry's legs locked in place.
This is just like last time.
Pungence rose slowly and began walking forward, each step without sound or force, yet heavy with intent.
"Dreados Penhover. Omfry Galendios. Of the Black March," he said as he approached. "How gracious of you to surrender to me."
He stopped before them.
"They're your comrades, I presume?"
Neither answered.
Pungence struck.
A blur. A precise chop to the neck. No wind. No sound. No power flaring. And yet, Omfry and Dreados collapsed like puppets with their strings severed.
He turned to the others.
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE."
Then he vanished.
In the blink of an eye, he stood before King Gozay.
No ripple in the air. No displacement. Just silence—and presence.
The Spellbounds reacted instantly, weapons and spells summoned in an instant. But Gozay raised a hand.
"Stand down," he commanded. "He's… an old friend."
Pungence tilted his head. "It's unlike you to shed tears, Gozay."
Still seated, the king looked up. "If you lost your child," he said quietly, "wouldn't you?"
Pungence's expression grew grave. "She's dead?"
Gozay shook his head. "No. She was taken. Again."
He exhaled heavily. "You know, Pungence… I have long wondered what grants you such strength. A manaless man, yet you wield power beyond reckoning. But today, I sensed others—also without mana—drawn to this place. I did not understand why. Now I do. Even bereft of mana, they possess true power."
He stood and stepped forward, eyes burning. "How could one devoid of mana strike me down… and render me motionless" His voice dropped to a whisper. "So… it appears this power is not yours alone to wield."
He placed a hand on Pungence's shoulder.
"I beg of you… bring my daughter back. I place my trust in you."
Then he turned and began walking.
"Where are you going?" Pungence asked.
"To retrieve my wife," Gozay replied, before taking flight.
His Spellbounds followed, broken but loyal.
Pungence turned. Appeared beside Jeriana.
With eerie calm, he tapped Daiel's neck. The boy crumpled.
Then Lisa. Then Sumshus.
Jeriana looked up, barely able to move.
"You criminals," he whispered.
And she too fell unconscious.
Then he reappeared before Ziraiah once more.
He struck. Anuel dropped.
He gently picked up Eryndor and tucked the boy under his arm.
Then, with impossible gentleness, he lifted Ziraiah into his other arm like a newborn.
He turned back to Gustein.
Eyes heavy with authority.
"Come with me."
Gustein swallowed and obeyed.
And thus, they walked away—through the ruin, through the silence, through history itself.
---
To Be Continued...