Zeke's eyes narrowed. Something was flying toward them with unimaginable speed and ferocity. It moved so swiftly that even the sound of splitting air hadn't caught up. He focused his gaze, finally recognizing the object. It was an ornate spear, its black-tipped head as long as a short sword, tapering into a sleek, black metal body.
Typically, these types of weapons were used for close combat, but that didn't seem to matter as the spear was piercing the air with the lethal force of a dedicated throwing spear. He traced its trajectory and noticed that it was heading right for… Gravitas?
Zeke was confused. What was the point of this attack? Even if it traveled much faster, would it really be enough to penetrate her gravitational field? However, his eyes widened in the next moment. He recognized the black sheen of the weapon; it was made of Voidiron.
Should he warn her?
No, there wasn't enough time for her to hear, understand, and process his words before the attack arrived, let alone formulate a plan. He had to act.
Without any hesitation, he let go of Snow. With a slight push, he ensured that she would land on her feet. In the next moment, he was gone. Akasha had already begun to act the moment the plan had solidified in his mind, teleporting him.
At that moment, the spear entered Gravitas's domain. She remained calm, aiming to divert its path. But this time, the weapon held its course. She summoned a stronger force, but it had no effect. Fear flickered in her purple eyes as she realized her Magic couldn't shield her.
At that moment, Zeke appeared in front of her. He had placed himself right between her and the spear. Her eyes widened at his unexpected actions, but Zeke had no time to pay attention. He had to make every second count.
Four tendrils of blood emerged from his back, piercing his clothing and aiming toward the incoming projectile. The four blade-like appendages crossed their tips in front of him, mimicking a sword guard. It was the best defense Akasha could muster with the short amount of time she was given.
Zeke, for his part, had also not been idle. In the blink of an eye, he erected a [Spatial Barrier]. A second one followed a moment later, and a third. Though, that was all the time he had before the spear arrived. His eyes contracted to needle points as he focused entirely on the black glint of the metal. He would only get this one chance.
One might think his attempts to use Magic to stop the weapon were foolish, but Zeke knew better. Voidiron was mana-resistant, not mana-repellent. This meant that it couldn't be directly affected by magic. However, this didn't protect the spear from magic's effects. For example, Voidiron couldn't pass through a conjured rock. It was immune to direct magical influence, not its manifestations.
With a shrill shriek, the spear arrived and pierced through the first barrier. It sounded like shattering glass as the spell was punctured. It didn't appear as if its momentum had been slowed at all. The second and third barriers followed suit, shattering at the briefest of contacts. The force behind the throw was utterly tyrannical.
Next, the spear clashed with the Blood tentacles.
It pierced them effortlessly, splattering red droplets across Zeke's face and body. However, that wasn't the end. As soon as the tips shattered, they reformed, acting with fluid precision. Controlled by Akasha, the tentacles slithered around the spear's shaft, tightening their hold like four red snakes.
This, finally, managed to slow the spear. However, all that force had to go somewhere and Zeke's entire body strained under the effort. His feet left deep furrows on the ground has he was pushed backward.
Yet, it was not enough. The spear kept moving, now about an arm's length from Zeke's chest. A ruthless light emerged in his eyes. With all his magical defenses gone, there was only one thing he could rely on: His body.
Zeke grabbed onto the incoming blade with his bare hands. He tried to avoid touching the edges of the blade, but the force was too great. As he tightened the grip of his fingers, it bit deep into his palms.
Zeke gritted his teeth as he fought against the spear with all his might. His back strained, his bones creaked, and his palms bled profusely as he fought the seemingly unstoppable momentum of the throw. His arms bent under its force, allowing the tip to get ever closer to his flesh.
NO!
With a loud bellow, Zeke's aura changed. His pupils narrowed, turning into slits. His arms bulged for a brief instant before contracting. At this moment, his muscle fibers felt like they were made from solid steel. He erupted with unparalleled strength, halting the spear just as its tip touched his chest.
At that moment, time appeared to stop. Zeke stood unmoving, gripping the faintly vibrating spear with his blood-soaked hands. His body screamed for relief, yet he felt nothing. The Draconic Essence flowing through his veins rendered him numb to it all… except for the growing rage in his heart.
His eyes were focused on that distant figure who had thrown the spear. He spotted him instantly. Standing halfway down the slope, the man radiated danger despite the distance. He was standing at an angle, one hand extended forward and the other drawn behind his body, still in a throwing stance.
Zeke's draconic eyes sharpened, enabling him to scrutinize the attacker as if they were mere steps apart. His muscular, bare upper body was unnaturally pale. Yet, what set him apart from the others were his human legs. Unlike the rest of his tribe, he lacked a serpentine lower half or any scales, appearing entirely human. One word automatically came to Zeke's mind.
Pureblood.
The man was likely a direct descendant. However, unlike Snow, he had long since matured. Judging by his immense physical strength, he seemed to be on par with an Archmage. His casual throw had almost managed to kill him, despite all his preparations.
They locked eyes.
Zeke frowned, a sense of unease creeping over him. The man's appearance wasn't strikingly handsome or ugly, yet something about him was deeply unsettling. He had grayish hair, pale skin, a sharp, flat nose, and a wide mouth with thin lips. But there was an uncanny quality to his features—his mouth a fraction too wide, his nostrils slightly too narrow…
"Master!" a voice called out.
The cry ended the standoff, bringing Zeke out of his empowered state. All at once, his body's exhaustion and pain came rushing in. He had used all his strength in that one moment, and the backlash hit him like a sledgehammer.
Zeke's shoulders noticeably sagged as he faced the speaker. An overpowering bout of weakness spread through his body, yet he still managed a smile as he came face to face with Gravitas. With the last bit of strength he could muster, he handed her the spear. "Be careful next time."
He tried to walk past her, but his feet lost strength. He would have fallen if not for the hand catching him at the last moment. What was going on?
"Master! Look!" Gravitas said again, and Zeke finally noticed what she was looking at. His hands had turned pale, and the edges of the cuts had taken on a sickly green color.
Poison?
Now that Zeke was paying close attention, he began to feel it. Pain spread from his hands, up his forearms, and into his shoulders. What he had first attributed to overworked muscles turned out to have a far more sinister source.
Reflexively, Zeke turned his head and glanced at the distant figure. So that was it. No wonder the man kept grinning at him despite his attack having been stopped.
"Do what you can, Akasha," Zeke ordered.
Without a change in expression, Zeke turned his head back to the front. Gravitas didn't waste any time and assisted him up the hill. They were only a couple of steps away from the defensive wall, and the rest of the group had already entered. Her face turned increasingly worried as she half-carried him through the opening.
The wall was a massive yet crude fortification hewn from sheer rocks. The moment they stepped into the tunnel, a massive stone gate was lowered. With a loud thud, the colossal gate fell into place, effectively sealing them in.
There were no light sources inside the tunnel, and only the distant glow of the exit signaled the way. Despite his condition, Zeke kept his eyes forward. This was going to be their first contact with Snow's tribe. It had to be handled with care.
He and Gravitas stepped into the light and emerged in a kind of courtyard, surrounded by towering walls and filled with watchful eyes. The air was thick with tension as more and more figures emerged from the shadows, their expressions unreadable. Zeke's gaze swept over the assembled group, taking in their distinctive features and attire.
These people were clearly warriors, judging by the way they carried themselves. They had white hair, just like Snow. However, unlike her, each and every one of them showed traces of their bestial lineage. Their claws, fangs, and fur were on full display, marking their ancestor as a type of wolf.
At first glance, they resembled Ash, a descendant of the Mistwalker wolf. However, their demeanor was distinctly different. There was a frigid cold radiating off these Chimeroi. It was a completely different feeling.
It was then that he noticed the situation.
Ash and Vulcanos were surrounded by a dozen people with Snow in between them. She was frantically trying to explain something while the surrounding figures all had their weapon pointed at the group.
Zeke frowned at the sight. He had not expected a grand welcome, but didn't they deserve at least a basic level of hospitality? Wasn't Snow the daughter of the Chief? At his signal, Gravitas brought him forward, joining their companions.
"What is the meaning of this?" he heard Snow ask.
There was no reply, but that didn't mean that there was no reaction. The men clearly recognized her. Zeke saw more than one pair exchanging worried glances as they continued to point their weapons at their group.
"I demand that you send help outside; we've been attacked and—"
"Don't worry," Zeke interrupted as he arrived beside her. "We made it."
Hearing his voice, Snow was visibly relieved, but when she turned to face him, her snow-white skin seemed to grow a shade paler. "A-are you ok?"
Zeke tried to wave her off but couldn't even lift his arms at the moment. He likely wouldn't even have been able to stand if not for Gravitas holding him up. He settled for a smile instead. "I'll be fine after a bit of rest." He then nodded toward the warriors surrounding them. "What's going on?"
Snow glanced at her people, a frown replacing her worried expression. "It seems they have been ordered to stop us. However, I don't know who would give such an order."
At that moment, a loud, commanding voice broke the standoff. "That would have been me."