The battlefield was drenched in blood. The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The bodies of Order soldiers lay scattered like broken dolls, their screams still lingering in the ears of the living.

  And Yulong was not finished.

  His dark aura surged, expanding outward like a living shadow, swallowing the light, devouring everything in its path. His breath came ragged, but his strength only seemed to grow. He was no longer a man. He was a storm of vengeance, an unrelenting force of destruction.

  Belmar had always thought himself untouchable. As a captain of the Order, he had led countless massacres, broken countless lives. He had smiled through every moment of it.

  But now…

  Now he understood fear.

  Yulong’s eyes locked onto him, and for the first time in his life, Belmar felt truly hunted.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  He had the numbers. He had the poison.

  He had the Order.

  So why… why was he the one backed into a corner?

  “Kill him!” Belmar’s voice cracked, but his soldiers obeyed.

  A wave of Order warriors rushed forward, desperation fueling their charge.

  Yulong vanished.

  In the blink of an eye, he was among them.

  His fist shattered a man’s skull.

  His foot caved in another’s chest.

  Blood sprayed, bones snapped, bodies crumpled.

  One soldier tried to raise his blade. Yulong grabbed his wrist, twisting it with such force that it tore from the socket. The man’s scream barely lasted before Yulong crushed his throat with a single hand.

  Another warrior attempted to stab him from behind. Yulong turned, caught the blade between his palms, and broke it in half before plunging the jagged metal into the soldier’s gut.

  Screams. Screams. Screams.

  Belmar’s soldiers fell like flies.

  This was no battle. This was a slaughter.

  And Yulong was laughing.

  The sound sent a chill down even Aelric’s spine. It was not the laughter of a man. It was something hollow, something broken, something beyond pain.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Aelric knew he had to act.

  “Kaela! Veyne!” Aelric’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “Form up! We are ending this now.”

  Kaela spun her spear, her eyes burning with excitement. “Finally! Let’s clean up this mess.”

  Veyne nodded, his expression calm, but his movements swift. He had been waiting for Aelric’s command.

  The warriors from the subspace had already begun tearing into the Order’s ranks. Well-trained, disciplined, and ruthless, they moved with precision, cutting through their enemies with lethal efficiency.

  But the true threat was still ahead.

  Belmar.

  And the hundreds of reinforcements that were quickly approaching.

  Aelric’s mind worked like a machine, calculating every possibility, every risk, every opportunity.

  Yulong was powerful. Too powerful. But his rage was unfocused. He was destroying the Order, but he was also destroying himself.

  If this continued, Yulong might burn out… or worse, lose control completely.

  Aelric had to guide this chaos.

  He turned his gaze to the battlefield, searching for openings, reading every movement.

  “Veyne, flank the left side. Cut off their retreat. Kaela, with me. We take the center!”

  They moved without hesitation.

  Kaela’s spear spun in a blur of silver, slicing through armor and flesh with deadly precision. She weaved between enemies with unmatched speed, striking vital points, never wasting a single movement.

  Veyne was a shadow in the chaos, moving with ghostly precision. His blade cut through throats before his enemies even realized he was there. Silent. Deadly. Unstoppable.

  And Aelric…

  Aelric was control.

  Every strike, every step, every command was calculated. He fought with efficiency, eliminating enemies in the most effective way possible.

  But his true power wasn’t in his sword. It was in his mind.

  He was shaping the battlefield.

  Directing his warriors.

  Turning Yulong’s destruction into strategy.

  The Order was crumbling.

  Belmar gritted his teeth.

  Enough.

  He had let this go on for too long.

  “Activate the gas!” he shouted.

  Several Order soldiers pulled out metal canisters. With a single twist, they released a thick, purple mist into the air.

  Poison.

  The Poison Viper’s signature weapon.

  Aelric reacted instantly.

  “Fall back! Don’t breathe it in!”

  Kaela and Veyne leaped back, covering their mouths.

  The warriors from the subspace pulled back as well, but some were already coughing, their bodies trembling from the effects.

  Belmar smirked.

  “This battle is over,” he sneered. “You think I didn’t prepare for contingencies? You may have power, but power means nothing when you’re choking on your own blood.”

  Aelric’s mind raced.

  The poison was fast-acting. Even those who avoided direct inhalation would soon feel its effects through skin absorption.

  He needed to—

  A gust of wind.

  And then—

  Yulong moved.

  Straight toward Belmar.

  The poison didn’t slow him down.

  It made him angrier.

  Belmar barely had time to react before Yulong’s hand wrapped around his throat.

  “You,” Yulong growled, his voice a deep, guttural snarl. “You think this poison will stop me?”

  Belmar gasped, struggling against the iron grip.

  Yulong’s dark aura flared again.

  And then—

  CRACK.

  He slammed Belmar into the ground, shattering the earth beneath them.

  The captain coughed, blood spewing from his mouth.

  He looked up—

  And saw death staring back at him.

  Yulong’s expression was one of pure hatred, his teeth bared, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

  “You,” Yulong repeated, tightening his grip. “And you. And every single one of you.”

  Belmar struggled.

  He reached for his dagger—

  Yulong crushed his wrist.

  “You ORDERED my family’s death.”

  Yulong’s grip tightened.

  “You forced me to kill.”

  Belmar’s face turned red.

  “You made me a monster.”

  Dark energy surged.

  Belmar gasped, his vision darkening.

  And then—

  Aelric moved.

  He placed a hand on Yulong’s shoulder.

  “Enough.”

  Yulong froze.

  His breathing was ragged. His body trembled.

  He could kill Belmar. Right now. He could snap his neck. Tear him apart.

  But Aelric’s voice cut through the storm of rage.

  Yulong looked at him.

  And for the first time, he saw clarity.

  Aelric was calm.

  Unwavering.

  In control.

  Yulong… wasn’t.

  His grip loosened.

  Belmar coughed violently, gasping for air.

  Aelric turned to his warriors.

  “Secure him. He’s more valuable alive.”

  Two warriors immediately restrained Belmar, binding him in enchanted chains.

  Yulong stepped back, his breathing heavy.

  The poison was still spreading through the air, but Aelric had already activated a protective barrier, shielding his forces.

  The remaining Order soldiers saw their captain captured.

  Their morale shattered.

  Some tried to flee.

  They were cut down instantly.

  The battle was over.

  Aelric exhaled.

  The battlefield was silent.

  Only the sound of crackling flames and labored breathing remained.

  Yulong looked at his hands.

  They were drenched in blood.

  He clenched his fists.

  Aelric studied him.

  This man…

  He was powerful.

  But he was unstable.

  Yet, if guided correctly…

  Aelric turned away, his golden eyes shining with thought.

  This war was far from over.

  And they had just taken their first true step toward destroying the Order.