Chapter 473: A Father’s Weakness
Once the bone disappeared into his ring, Primus pressed both his palms against the ground and muttered in a hoarse voice, “Raging Inferno.”
His palms burned red hot, and in the blink of an eye, fire erupted beneath Ragnar’s feet.
A massive column of flames burst upward, twisting into a tornado that swallowed Ragnar whole. The roar of the inferno shook the ruined cemetery, and waves of heat rolled across the place like a living storm.
Primus didn’t wait. He took that moment to limp away, clutching his side. His steps were uneven at first, dragging and slow, but he forced himself to move faster.
His body lit up again, fire licking across his shoulders and legs, and with a heavy breath he leapt into the air.
Blood spilled from his mouth as soon as he was airborne, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself forward, fire bursting beneath him as he shot like a comet through the tunnel of flames.
The firestorm he had left behind suddenly faltered. The tornado collapsed in on itself, the roar dying out, and then it vanished altogether like a candle snuffed out.
Ragnar stepped out of the smoke a moment later, completely untouched, not a single hair on his body singed. He rolled his shoulders once, calm as ever, then with a flash of movement appeared beside me on the castle wall.
“He is weak,” Ragnar said, his crimson eyes fixed on the path where Primus had escaped.
I shook my head. “No. You’re just too strong for him. Don’t mistake it, he’s powerful. I’m sure he could crush many human grandmasters without breaking a sweat.”
Ragnar tilted his head, considering my words. “So when do they come in numbers?” he asked.
“Soon,” I replied, my gaze sharpening as I locked onto the demon. My perception stretched far, and I saw him slam into the ground just before Roland.
“Papa!” Lara cried out, trying to wrench her hand free from Roland’s grip. She kicked, struggled, but Roland held her easily.
“Did you get it?” Roland demanded, eyes narrow as he kept Lara pulled close.
Primus coughed hard, his entire body trembling, but he forced himself upright. It took him a moment, but eventually he stood straight, blood staining his lips, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
I could see him thinking, calculating, trying to find a way out. He was too badly injured to run, too drained to fight. Roland wouldn’t simply let him walk away in this state.
If he had come back whole, perhaps he would’ve had choices. But now? His only path forward was to use what he’d found.
Primus stared hard at Roland. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the bone appeared in his hand. The faint engravings on its surface shimmered with a strange fluctuation.
“I got this,” Primus said, his voice low but steady.
Roland’s eyes widened the instant he sensed it. He leaned closer, his expression twisting from greed to shock. “That’s… that’s…” His words broke apart, his voice trembling.
“Yes,” Primus answered flatly.
Roland gulped hard, unable to tear his eyes from the bone. He took a step forward without thinking, but Primus instantly jumped back, his fire flaring despite his injuries.
“No,” Primus growled, his tone sharp. “First, let go of my daughter.”
Roland froze, staring at him. His gaze roamed over the demon’s battered body, then he shook his head slowly.
“In your condition, you can forget about making threats. As I told you before, I won’t break my word. Give me the bone, and you can have your daughter.”
Primus’s flames burned hotter. His eyes glowed with the same stubborn defiance I had seen even while Ragnar was breaking him apart.
“No,” he said again, louder this time. “I don’t trust you. Let her go, now, and I’ll throw you the bone. If you don’t… I’ll throw it into the flames instead. Then you can deal with those monsters yourself to find another treasure.”
Roland’s face hardened, and I felt the Essence around him begin to churn like a storm.
“Primus, I am not in the mood to play games,” he said coldly. “Give me the bone, and you’ll have your daughter… or—”
He flicked his wrist, and a black dagger appeared in his hand. With a smooth motion, he pressed it against Lara’s throat. The little girl froze, her eyes wide with fear.
“Or you can say goodbye to your daughter.”
Flames burst across Primus’s entire body at once, his aura blazing so hot the air rippled.
“ROLAND!” he roared, his voice shaking the ground. “Don’t you dare!”
“I will do it!” Roland snapped back, his hand steady as he pushed the dagger just close enough to leave a faint red mark against Lara’s neck.
Primus’s chest rose and fell heavily. His eyes darted between the trembling dagger and his daughter’s face, then locked onto Roland. Both of them were burning with fury—one with rage, the other with greed.
“If you break your word again,” Primus growled, his voice low and venomous, “then I swear, Roland, I will go to any length to destroy you and your family.”
Roland didn’t flinch. He met that glare head-on, his own madness flashing in his eyes.
Finally, with a heavy breath, Primus pulled his hand back and hurled the bone toward him.
Roland snatched it from the air with a smile already spreading across his lips. He ran his fingers along the engravings, and his expression shifted the moment he sensed the fluctuations.
“It’s Time,” Roland muttered under his breath, his smile widening with dangerous delight.
“Roland,” Primus growled, his flames flaring higher, warning in every syllable.
Roland tore his gaze from the bone and looked back at him, grinning like a viper. “Primus, you are strong… but you’re not ruthless enough. You see, I still haven’t made full use of you yet.”
And with that, he pulled Lara close, and shot toward the Lamp Fort.
“ROLAND!” Primus’s roar shook the entire fort as he forced himself into the air to give chase. But the moment he lifted off, his battered body betrayed him, and he collapsed back down with a crash. Snarling, he pushed himself up and broke into a run, chasing on foot.
He didn’t get far. Masters appeared from all sides, their weapons drawn, surrounding him before he could cross into the Lamp Fort.
Primus bared his teeth and roared again, his flames igniting with fury. His entire body became a living inferno as he hurled himself at the blockade.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!