Time passed, and the battlefield no longer resembled what it once was. Now, it was a scene of absolute destruction and wear. Mud craters spread everywhere, the result of Zara's severe attacks, which reshaped the ground with each brutal assault. In contrast, patches of charred earth and still-smoldering embers bore witness to the fiery fury of Vivian's strikes. The ground was a chaos of textures and colors—now soaked and sunken, now dry and scorched by flames.
This devastation wasn't concentrated in a single spot. The Aligodon had moved incessantly, leaving a trail of chaos as it tried to capture Vivian, who kept it occupied with speed and precision. Zara, despite her offensive power, couldn't withstand the beast's mental attacks, making Vivian the only one capable of holding the front line in distraction. The result was a battlefield marked by their constant pursuit—every hole, every burn mark, evidence of the cat-and-mouse game unfolding.
And at the center of this chaos, the Aligodon, once a walking fortress, showed irreversible signs of wear. Its bright blue scales had lost their vigor, now tinged with gray, soot, and blood. Some had already fallen, others hung precariously, exposing raw, pulsating flesh. Its body, once impenetrable, was now a mosaic of cracks, burns, and lacerations.
But even so, it hadn't given up. It roared, exhausted and enraged, moving erratically in an attempt to catch its prey. Pain and stress had pushed it to the limit, but that only made the final moment even more unpredictable.
Yet, it still hadn't given up. Every fiber of its body cried out for revenge, every wound on its skin fueled its fury even more. It roared, exhausted and maddened, moving erratically in an attempt to capture its prey.
Whenever its eyes, red with hatred and pain, found Vivian, its response was immediate—a flash of energy concentrated in its snout, ready to unleash a devastating beam in her direction.
However, the moment the magic began to take shape, a dry crack tore through the air. From a safe spot hundreds of meters away, Drake pulled the trigger of his Black Death with surgical precision.
The bullet, though incapable of completely piercing the hardened, robust skin of a Level 4 Mutant Beast, found its way to vulnerable points. Always the same target: the snout, near the eyes—a sensitive spot where pain radiated intensely through the Aligodon's skull.
The effect was immediate. The creature let out a sharp grunt, and its concentration shattered like smoke in the wind. The energy beam never fully formed. The pattern repeated—every time the Aligodon tried to gather magic to attack Vivian, Drake's precise shot forced it to retreat, hesitate, and lose time.
It tried to be faster, tried to anticipate, but its tired body couldn't keep up with its fury. The time needed to channel the attack was more than enough for Drake to aim and fire again, perpetuating the beast's frustration.
Each failed attempt made the Aligodon more erratic, more uncontrolled. Its charges became desperate, its roars overflowing with rage and despair. But the cycle didn't break. It couldn't reach Vivian. It couldn't conjure its magic. And, little by little, the inevitable approached.
For the Aligodon, only one option remained: to move and hunt its prey—or at least try. Its muscles, still full of vigor, trembled with each step, not from exhaustion, but from the growing tension of the battle. Its gaze, though clouded by pain and the succession of attacks it had endured, still carried the wild determination of a cornered predator, ready to strike at the slightest opportunity.
But no one on the battlefield was fooled. The Aligodon was far from a defeated enemy. Its strength was still immense, its resilience something out of the ordinary, and even under constant fire, it remained standing, fierce and lethal. Its heavy breathing made the air vibrate, and its movements, though erratic, still carried absolute destructive power.
Gregory knew this better than anyone. Hidden in the nearby forest, he watched every second of the fight through his spy drone screens. His eyes scanned the real-time data, analyzing patterns, anticipating reactions, and, above all, ensuring no one took unnecessary risks.
"We're at the beginning of the end, girls. Stay calm and patient." His voice came through firmly on the comms, a clear warning to Vivian and Zara.
He wasn't just observing; he was coordinating. At every moment, he instructed both on when to act and where to attack, ensuring their movements were synchronized, without one interfering with the other. Vivian could be agile and explosive, and Zara had considerable destructive power, but without strategy, even the best hunters could become prey.
Behind him, Rebecca, Louise, and Daira watched the screen in silence, tension hanging in the air as they awaited the next orders.
Rebecca clenched her fists, her tense muscles betraying the unease she tried to contain. Louise, though maintaining a rigid posture, couldn't hide the intensity in her gaze—focused, attentive, absorbing every detail of the Aligodon's movements. Daira, always a step ahead, prepared her support magic, ready to act at the right moment without hesitation.
The battle was far from over. And Gregory knew the most dangerous moment was yet to come.
"Miles, any changes in the situation out there?" He asked over the radio, his eyes still glued to the screen, analyzing the spy drone data.
"Nothing. No movement or strange phenomena… It's all too quiet…" Natan's voice came through the channel, filled with apprehension and a clear tone of suspicion.
Gregory nodded, thoughtful. The calm before the storm.
"I agree, it's too quiet. But for now, it works in our favor. Let's initiate the next part of the plan, and if everything goes as expected, we'll finish our job without surprises. Stay alert and report any suspicious movement immediately."
"Understood."
"Barnes, you there?"
"Here. Go ahead."
"Rebecca and Louise will be on the field soon. I know you have experience, but I need to stress: watch out for friendly fire. Their movements will be unpredictable and too fast for precise calculations."
Barnes sighed over the radio. "I know, Gunn. I've dealt with this kind of situation before. Don't worry."
"Good. Over and out."
Gregory then turned to the three Hounds, his eyes calmly passing over each one, evaluating their expressions, trying to decipher what was going through their minds.
Louise was tense, her face filled with seriousness. She understood her role in the plan and sought some kind of confidence or encouragement from him.
Rebecca, on the other hand, seemed completely serene. Her injuries had been treated by Daira, and now she was flawless, as if she had never fought. Her gaze showed a calculated disinterest—she didn't seem worried, but she also didn't look away from him.
Daira, however, stood out from the other two. Relaxed, casual, a small presumptuous smile playing on her lips. Her gaze fixed on him revealed a peculiar interest, as if she were enjoying the unfolding situation. It was as if she were evaluating Gregory, liking what she saw—his leadership, his ability to make decisions under pressure, his constant presence on the battlefield through his orders and instructions.
He took a deep breath.
"Let's finish this quickly, girls." His tone was firm, determined. "I'm counting on you."
_______________________________
On the battlefield, the attacks alternated without mercy. First, voracious flames enveloped the Aligodon, its scales crackling under the intense heat as it writhed, trying to free itself from the blaze.
Then, a torrent of water plummeted from the sky, hitting it with brutal force, crushing its heavy body against the ground and stealing the air from its lungs. The cycle repeated—fire burning, water suffocating—keeping it trapped in a cruel dance of pain and frustration.
It roared, shaking its head, its claws tearing through the muddy ground as it tried to regain control of the situation. But every time it got back up, another strike came. The hatred in its eyes only grew. It was a predator, a machine of destruction.
How could they treat it like a toy? Like hyenas provoking a wounded lion, nipping at it, fleeing before it could crush them.
Emerging from the last lake formed by a whirlpool that had beaten it into the ground, the Aligodon panted. Its body trembled—not from exhaustion, but from pure, incandescent fury. It no longer had the energy to roar, only lifting its head, its eyes thirsty for revenge, searching for its prey.
Vivian.
She stood there, fearless, her body enveloped in a flaming aura. In her hands, a sphere of fire grew larger and larger, beating like a living heart about to explode.
The Aligodon didn't think twice. It launched itself forward in powerful sprints, propelling itself with small jumps to close the distance between them. If it caught her, it would tear her apart. It would tear her flesh, crush her bones, taste her hot blood—
BOOOOMMM!
The fireball shot toward it. The impact was brutal. The shock of the explosion reverberated across the field, engulfing the Aligodon in a wave of heat and destruction. For an instant, the creature's vision was filled with an orange and gold glow, while the roar of the explosion drowned out all other sounds.