Outside on the island, the soldiers were already busy.
They worked swiftly, erecting tents and preparing food, their movements practiced and efficient.
Nearby, the King stood with his ministers, engaged in serious conversation.
But suddenly, he stopped midsentence, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the cave entrance that led to the underground Spirit Forest.
A thick, black energy barrier now shrouded the cave's mouth, sealing it shut.
The dark mist swirled ominously, pulsing faintly with a sinister glow.
The King's expression darkened.
His voice was low but sharp as he asked,
"Uncle, what is this?"
At that moment, a middle-aged man suddenly appeared, as if he had always been there.
In truth, he had been standing there for some time, yet no one had noticed him.
Even if they had walked directly toward him, their steps would have unknowingly veered away, as though guided by an unseen force.
The man's expression was calm, his gaze steady.
Without turning, he spoke in a measured voice,
"The Invader has blocked the underground forest."
The King's eyes narrowed, his tone filled with urgency.
"Can you break the barrier and rescue them?"
The man's gaze remained on the cave, unwavering.
His voice was calm and assured.
"Yes. But it will take time."
Without another word, the man strode toward the cave, his movements deliberate and steady.
The crowd watched in tense silence as he approached the barrier.
People near the King murmured, their voices anxious and confused.
"What's happening? Who is that man?"
The King's eyes remained fixed on his uncle, his expression grim.
He replied curtly,
"I'll explain later."
The King's attention remained locked on his uncle, watching as the man reached the halfway point toward the cave.
But then, a low, chilling chuckle echoed across the island.
Without warning, a dense black fog swept through the area, twisting and swirling violently.
From within the fog, a pale-faced woman materialized, her form solidifying in the eerie darkness.
Her skin was deathly pale, almost translucent, and her eyes gleamed with a haunting light.
Without hesitation, she thrust her palm forward, sending a black wave of energy hurtling toward the man.
The man didn't flinch.
He reciprocated calmly, his own palm meeting hers in a clash of raw power.
To the onlookers, it seemed as though nothing happened.
For a brief moment, the two figures stood motionless, their palms pressed together.
But then—
A shockwave erupted from their clash.
The ground quaked violently.
The force of the collision ripped soil from the earth, sending clumps of dirt and debris flying.
Nearby trees were uprooted, their trunks splintering into jagged fragments.
Rocks shattered, exploding into dust and shards.
The King's eyes widened in shock.
Realizing the danger, he shouted with urgent authority,
"Everyone, escape to the boats!"
The soldiers and nobles immediately scrambled, rushing toward the docked vessels.
The crowd surged toward the water, their faces filled with fear and desperation.
But the King didn't move.
He remained rooted in place, his eyes locked on his uncle, who was now battling the woman fiercely.
With each exchange, the air trembled, sending violent ripples of power outward.
The King gritted his teeth, focusing his own energy to shield the escaping crowd from the fluctuations of the battle.
The woman's strength was astonishing.
She was matching his uncle blow for blow.
His uncle—a Great Warlock—was now locked in combat with someone of equal power, a realization that made the King's stomach tighten.
Once the last of the crowd had escaped onto the boats, the King finally turned and leaped onto one of the vessels.
As the boat pushed away from the island, he stood at the bow, his voice ringing out over the water.
"Row farther! Hurry!"
The boats sailed away, leaving the island behind, now a battlefield of devastating power.
From the distance, they could still see the explosions of energy lighting up the island.
And the King knew—
This was far from over.
The King stood at the bow of the boat, his hands clenched into fists as he watched the battle unfold.
His eyes were locked on his uncle—a man he had known and revered his entire life—now engaged in a ferocious struggle against the pale-faced woman.
With every clash, the island trembled violently, the force of their blows splintering the earth and reducing trees and rocks to rubble.
The King's eyes narrowed.
Though his uncle's expression remained stoic, the King knew he was gradually ramping up his power.
And then—
Behind his uncle, a colossal fire elemental surged into existence.
The King's breath caught.
He had seen this before, but it never failed to awe him.
The fire elemental stood towering behind his uncle—a humanoid figure wreathed in raging flames, its eyes molten gold.
Every time his uncle moved, the elemental mirrored him, the air around him distorting from the sheer heat.
Fire surged around his uncle's palms and feet, whipping and twisting with each strike, leaving behind scorching trails of destruction.
But then—
The woman's twisted aura surged, and from behind her, an avatar materialized.
The King's stomach tightened.
The eerie figure was almost as tall as the fire elemental, but it was unlike anything he had ever seen.
It was a spectral woman, her neck grotesquely broken, twisted at a sickening angle.
A jagged sword was embedded in her stomach, the blade still dripping with black ichor.
Her eyes were empty, hollow pits of gray despair, and her lips were curled in a twisted grin.
The King's throat tightened at the sight.
"What… in the gods' name… is that?"
The spectral woman mirrored her master's movements, its hands, and feet encased in murky gray energy that hissed and crackled, leaving a trail of corrosive mist in its wake.
The island itself could no longer withstand the onslaught.
The ground split apart, deep fissures ripping through the earth.
Entire sections of rock and soil crumbled into the water, and the forest ignited, turning into a sea of flames and ash.
The King's ears rang with the sound of constant, eerie laughter.
A ghastly chuckle, so sharp and piercing, it seemed to crawl into his mind.
His vision blurred for a moment.
He felt a sharp pain in his skull, like nails digging into his brain.
All around him, the nobles and soldiers on the boats clutched their heads, groaning in agony.
Some fell to their knees, their eyes wide and bloodshot.
Others screamed.
Driven mad by the laughter, they turned on each other.
The King's eyes widened as he saw a man grab a dagger and plunge it into his companion's throat, his face twisted with madness.
The King roared, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"ROW FASTER! GET US AWAY!"
The boat crews frantically paddled, pulling the vessels farther from the island, their arms trembling with desperation.
But the King's gaze remained on the island, refusing to look away, even as the boats were rocked by waves of power.
And then he heard it—
His uncle's voice—deep and commanding—thundering over the battlefield.
"Heavenly Fire Dragon Descent!"
The King's breath caught.
He knew this technique.
It was one of his uncle's three signature moves.
The sky above the lake darkened, and then—
The clouds turned bloodred, as though ignited by flame.
From the blazing clouds, a massive dragon's head emerged.
Its scales shimmered like molten gold, its eyes burning with incandescent fury.
The King's heart pounded as the dragon's snout parted, revealing rows of fangs forged from the fire itself.
Then—
The fire dragon descended.
The King squinted against the light, his eyes stinging from the searing brightness.
The dragon struck the island, its massive jaws crashing down.
The moment of impact was blinding.
A blinding eruption of fire and light engulfed the entire island.
The King instinctively shut his eyes, shielding his face with his arm.
A deafening explosion followed—so loud it seemed to tear through the fabric of the world itself.
The force of the blast sent a massive shockwave across the lake.
Walls of fire and air surged outward, creating 10-meter-high waves that roared across the water, surging toward the boats.
The King's boat rocked violently, nearly capsizing.
The nobles screamed, and the soldiers braced themselves.
The searing heat from the blast evaporated the surface water, creating a steaming mist that obscured the island from view.
The waves tumbled the boats, sending them even farther away from the battle.
Finally, the King dared to open his eyes.
At first, he saw nothing but mist and flame.
But then—
The scene came into focus.
There, on the scorched island, stood his uncle, his chest heaving with labored breaths.
The King's heart twisted at the sight.
His uncle was panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face, his clothes scorched and torn.
But then—
His gaze shifted.
And he felt a chill creep down his spine.
The woman remained standing, completely unharmed.
She was surrounded by a gray, translucent lotus, its petals closed tightly around her like a protective cocoon.
The fire dragon's fury had failed to reach her.
She stood there, her eyes dull and empty, but her chest rising and falling heavily, mirroring his uncle's fatigue.
The King's hands gripped the boat's railing tightly, his knuckles turning white.
His uncle was panting.
The woman was panting.
But she was unscathed.
The King's heart pounded.
"Even… his signature move… didn't touch her…"
For the first time, a glimmer of doubt seeped into his chest.
He realized—
This was no ordinary enemy.
The King's hands tightened around the boat's railing as he watched the battlefield, his eyes narrowed, his breathing shallow.
In the corner of his vision, he caught a glimmer of light—a sudden flash of cold blue gliding across the lake's surface.
His gaze snapped toward it, and his eyes widened.
A massive sword of ice—easily twenty meters long—was sliding effortlessly over the water, its razor-sharp tip aimed directly at the pale-faced woman still inside the gray energy lotus.
The blade glistened in the dim light, its edges shimmering with frost, leaving a trail of ice crystals in its wake.
The King's breath caught.
"Grandmother…"
He recognized this technique instantly.
Just as the ice sword reached the island, a red energy wall erupted around the woman's lotus, forming a barrier of crackling energy.
The two forces collided.
A deafening explosion rocked the island.
The impact sent massive chunks of ice flying in all directions.
Shards as large as boulders rained down on the forest, smashing trees into splinters.
Smaller ice fragments peppered the water, sending white plumes of mist into the air as they splashed into the lake.
The King barely flinched, his eyes locked onto the ice sword even as it splintered and shattered against the red wall.
As the steam dissipated, his gaze narrowed at the island.
Through the mist, a lone figure emerged.
His eyes widened slightly.
A wolf, standing upright like a human, strode forward.
It was clad in dark, regal robes, tailored to fit its bipedal form, with fine silver embroidery decorating the sleeves.
The wolf's fur was a deep shade of charcoal, with streaks of faint silver along its limbs.
Its eyes gleamed a deep crimson, and a faint curl of smoke drifted from its mouth.
Clenched between its sharp, bloodstained fangs was a half-burned roll of paper, still smoldering faintly, sending thin wisps of smoke curling into the air.
The King's chest tightened.
And then—
Without moving its lips, the wolf spoke softly, yet its voice echoed directly into his ears—as though the beast were whispering beside him.
"You humans… are truly treacherous."
The King's blood ran cold.
His hand fell instinctively to the sword at his waist, his knuckles whitening.
And then—
He heard another voice.
A voice he knew instantly.
The voice of the Mi Family Ancestor, one of the great nobles of the kingdom.
"Do we have to be good… to you invaders?"
The King turned his head sharply and saw the old noble hovering just above the water, his white robes flowing, lined with silver trim.
The old man's eyes were sharp, glimmering with a lethal calm, his weathered hand raised as ancient symbols glimmered faintly in the air around him.
And then—
From the lake's edge, a new figure appeared.
The King's eyes widened, and his heart leaped.
His grandmother stepped into view.
Despite being over sixty years old, she appeared no older than thirty, her ageless beauty accentuated by her piercing blue eyes and the soft, delicate features of her face.
She wore the traditional light blue robes of the Desert Kingdom, adorned with golden embroidery that glimmered faintly in the light.
Her long, flowing hair was tied loosely, strands dancing in the wind as she raised her wand, its tip gleaming with icy light.
Her voice was sharp, cold, and commanding, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"You invaders…" she snarled, her eyes flashing with fury.
"…get out of our world!"
The wolf's lips curled into a cruel grin.
It chuckled darkly, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the air.
"No can do," the wolf sneered, its fangs glinting with menace.
Without another word, the Mi Family Ancestor raised his hand.
A massive silver array bloomed into existence, spanning several meters, humming with ancient power.
At its center, a glimmering silver sword materialized—sleek and elegant, glowing with arcane energy.
With a sharp gesture, the ancestor's hand snapped forward, and the silver sword shot toward the wolf, cutting through the air with blinding speed.
At the same moment, his grandmother's wand glimmered.
The lake water surged upward, twisting and coiling into the form of a massive bow.
From its center, a gleaming ice arrow emerged, its tip crackling with freezing energy.
With a fluid wave of her wand, the ice arrow shot forward, piercing through the air, and streaking toward the wolf.
The King's breath caught, his eyes wide as he watched the two-pronged attack closing in on the beast.
But the wolf only smirked.
It threw back its head and let out a piercing howl.
The air itself seemed to crack with the sound.
A visible red sound wave rippled outward, expanding violently in all directions.
The sound wave met the silver sword and the ice arrow.
Both attacks shattered instantly, reduced to shimmering fragments that scattered into the wind.
But the howl did not stop.
The red wave kept spreading, rushing toward the boats.
The King's eyes widened.
All around him, the nobles, soldiers, and survivors—those stranded on makeshift rafts or clinging to wreckage—clutched their ears, their faces twisted in agony.
The howl pierced their minds, and some—driven mad by the corrosive resonance—turned on each other.
The King felt it too.
A searing pain tore through his skull, like needles burrowing into his brain.
He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw so hard it felt like it might shatter.
But he refused to fall.
His eyes remained locked on the battle.
Even as the red sound waves sent the boats tumbling further across the lake, even as men screamed and attacked one another, he did not turn away.
Because in his grandmother's eyes, and the Mi Family Ancestor's stance, he saw no fear.
Only fury.
And resolve.