Earlier Before the Fight
Chieftain Doomhand strode through the devastation with a sense of mounting frustration, his heavy boots crushing debris underfoot. The air was thick with the remnants of the explosion—burnt stone, ash, and the acrid smell of magic gone wrong. Orc warriors followed behind him, their expressions grim as they surveyed the ruins of Guldar’s lair.
“Spread out!” Doomhand barked, his voice a growl of fury. “Find him!”
The warriors scattered without hesitation, searching through the rubble for any sign of life. Doomhand’s patience was running thin. The warlock’s chamber had been obliterated, the dark energy of the explosion still lingering in the air like the aftermath of a cursed storm. The harpy, Guldar’s prisoner, had somehow escaped, and the damage left in its wake was a testament to the sheer power of whatever dark magic had been unleashed.
Doomhand clenched his fists, his black gauntlets gleaming in the dull light. Guldar had been a fool to think he could control such a volatile force. But if the warlock was still alive, Doomhand needed answers—needed to know how this disaster had happened, and how they could salvage what remained of their plans.
“Chieftain!” One of the orcs called from the wreckage, waving for his attention. “Over here!”
Doomhand moved quickly, his powerful frame cutting through the chaos as he approached the source of the call. His eyes narrowed as he saw it—amidst the broken stone and twisted metal, Guldar lay slumped against a shattered pillar, his robes torn and bloodied, but his eyes still open, flickering with weak, dark energy.
The warlock was alive.
Doomhand’s expression darkened as he loomed over Guldar. “You’ve failed me, warlock,” he growled, his deep voice filled with barely restrained fury. “Your magic has destroyed half of our camp, and the harpy has escaped.”
Guldar coughed, blood staining his cracked lips. His eyes, though weak, still glowed with the remnants of his dark power. “I… didn’t expect… the harpy to have such potential,” Guldar rasped, his voice thin and strained. “The fact he had Divine Magic and… it was stronger than I anticipated…”
“Stronger?” Doomhand’s voice was a snarl, his eyes flashing with anger. “You told me you could control it. That your experiments would give us power to crush our enemies.”
Doomhand’s fists clenched. “And now the harpy is gone, armed with the very power you claimed would be ours. You’ve unleashed a threat we can’t afford.”
Guldar’s eyes flickered with a mix of fear and defiance. “I can fix this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I need time—just a little more time. The magic can still be controlled. The harpy’s power… it can still be ours.”
Doomhand studied the warlock for a moment, his eyes cold and calculating. Guldar was weak, barely clinging to life, but his knowledge of the dark arts was still valuable. As much as Doomhand wanted to crush the warlock for his failure, he knew that Guldar’s twisted magic might still be the key to victory.
But there would be no more second chances.
“You will fix this,” Doomhand said, his voice low and dangerous. “But if you fail again, warlock, I will make sure your death is far worse than anything the void could offer.”
Guldar nodded weakly, his body trembling with the effort. “I will… not fail… again,” he promised, though the fear in his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.
Doomhand turned away from the crumpled warlock, signaling to his warriors. “Get the shamans,” he ordered, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “We will need him alive—for now.”
...
The wind howled through the barren landscape as I stepped out of the shadows, my heart pounding in my chest. The warlock stood a few paces away, his dark, tattered robes billowing around him like an omen of death. His twisted staff gleamed with a faint, sickly light, and his yellowed eyes locked onto mine with a mixture of hatred and twisted glee. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse, as if the very earth recoiled from his presence.
The warlock sneered, his voice dripping with malice. I don't know what he was saying but this was going to be a fight for survival, and every bit of focus I had would be needed. My muscles tensed as I prepared to use my void magic and watch how much mana I had left.
The warlock raised his staff, and the air around us grew thick with dark magic. The sky above seemed to darken, clouds swirling like a whirlpool of shadows.
He thrust his staff forward, and a wave of sickly green energy shot toward me, crackling and hissing like it was alive. I barely had time to react, summoning the divine light within me. With a burst of focus, I released a blinding flash of pure, holy energy. The beam surged forward, colliding with the warlock's dark magic in an explosive clash. The green energy fizzled, vanishing into nothingness.
The warlock’s eyes widened in shock.
I channeled my Divine Light Manipulation again, purifying the air around me. The radiant glow emanating from my body caused his magic to flicker and retreat slightly, as if recoiling from the light. His twisted staff hummed with resistance, struggling to maintain its dark connection.
He sent more tendrils of shadow bursting from the ground, curling around my legs and wings. I grunted, trying to wrench myself free, but the tendrils were like iron chains, tightening with every second. My wings strained against the pull, feathers ruffled and snapping under the pressure. I used "Grit to numb the pain.
The warlock growled, stepping closer. Desperation welled up inside me, but I wasn’t about to give in. I focused the divine light, not just to shield me, but to purify his magic. My wings began to glow with a soft radiance, and slowly, the tendrils began to melt away, unraveling under the purifying touch of the light. I pushed harder, feeling the resistance fade. The dark tendrils snapped apart, and I shot into the air, wings beating furiously as I gained distance.
I wasn’t just going to survive—I was going to win.
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I dove toward the warlock, my body moving instinctively. As I closed the gap, I gathered divine energy into my claws, their glow intensifying. He snarled, raising his staff again, but I struck with a precision that cut through his dark barrier. Both "Vital Strike" and Divine light landed, causing him to stagger back, hissing in pain. His eyes blazed with fury, but the light continued to erode his defenses.
He thrust his staff into the ground once more, and the earth beneath him cracked and split open. From the fissures, dark energy surged, forming massive, writhing shapes—golems of shadow and stone that towered over me. Their eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and their massive arms swung toward me with terrifying speed.
I barely dodged the first golem’s attack, its massive fist crashing into the ground where I had just been. I twisted in midair, avoiding the second golem’s strike, but they were fast, too fast. The golems moved with a brutal, unstoppable force, each swing of their limbs creating shockwaves that rattled the ground.
I can’t keep dodging forever.
My wings strained as I flew higher, trying to put more distance between me and the hulking forms below. But the warlock wasn’t done. From his position on the ground, he raised his staff again, and bolts of dark energy shot toward me like arrows. One of them grazed my wing, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my body.
I clenched my jaw, ignoring the pain. I had to think fast. The golems were relentless, and he was keeping me pinned down with his dark magic. I needed to find an opening—a way to turn this fight around.
I tried using "Screech" it did nothing at first but they stopped for a second and see the warlock clutched his ears, then it hit me.
The golems were constructs, formed from the warlock's magic, just like the shadows he had used earlier. If I could disrupt the magic that held them together, they’d fall apart. And I knew exactly how to do it.
I dove down, straight toward the golems, my heart racing. The massive creatures swung at me again, but this time, I was ready. I used "Screech" and used Divine light just in front of the first golem’s arm, the golem stops its fist as collided with the light. The golem staggered, its massive form trembling as the void began to pull it apart.
I grinned despite myself. It’s working.
I opened more rifts occasionally using "Screech" to disrupt the warlock, targeting the second golem’s legs and torso. I released a burst of divine energy, flooding the battlefield with blinding light. The golems hesitated, their forms flickering under the intensity of the purifying glow. The divine light severed the warlock’s dark control over them, unraveling the magic that bound them together. The golems crumbled, their forms collapsing into piles of rubble. The golems crumbled, their forms collapsing into piles of rubble as the warlock's magic failed to hold them.
The warlock let out a furious roar, his staff shaking with raw power.
But his rage only fueled me. I swooped down, I used "Vital Strike" crashing toward his staff. He barely had time to react, his barrier faltering under the assault. The force of the attack knocked him back, his staff splintering in his hands.
The warlock stumbled to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
I landed a few paces away from him, panting but standing tall.
The warlock glared at me, his eyes filled with hatred. But before either of us could make a move, there was a sound—a deep, resonating thud that echoed across the battlefield.
It was the chieftain watching as he walks to the warlock. The chieftain began to argue with the warlock and shouts loudly before I could react. The air around the warlock shimmered with a foul aura, his body convulsing as dark tendrils of magic wrapped around him. His skin began to stretch and split, his bones elongating and cracking under the pressure of the transformation. His eyes, once full of malice, now glowed with an green unholy fire.
His entire form swelled, his muscles bulging grotesquely as horns erupted from his forehead, curling back like a demon’s crown. His teeth elongated into jagged fangs, and his hands, now clawed, burned with black flame. His robes shredded away, revealing skin that had turned a sickly red, etched with runes that glowed with infernal light.
I felt my heart skip a beat. This wasn’t the same warlock I had fought moments ago. This was something far worse. His presence radiated raw, chaotic power, and the ground around him began to crack and smolder under the weight of his transformation.
The chieftain stepped back, his eyes narrowing and says something.
The warlock laugh only laughed, the sound inhuman, like the roar of a beast unleashed from the deepest pit.
The battle had taken so much out of me, and now I stood facing something that seemed more monster than man. I had never seen such a transformation before. My feathers prickled, a cold sweat dripping down my back as I realized just how dire the situation had become. I checked status.
Name: Sora Calem
Species: Harpy
Lv: 14 (183/640)
HP: 31/125 (+7/h)
MP: 32/100 (+4/h)
ST: 47/225 (+14)
Class: N/A ...
I closed my status then at the warlock—no, the demon—fixed its glowing eyes on me, its voice a guttural snarl.
Before I could react, demon lunged, faster than I thought possible for something of his size. I barely dodged to the side as his claws raked through the air, leaving trails of black flame in their wake. He moved with a savage grace, his new form more agile than I anticipated, and every step he took left the ground smoldering beneath him.
I stumbled back, my wings flaring as I tried to find an opening, but demon was relentless. His power crackled through the air, and I felt the weight of his magic pressing down on me, threatening to suffocate me with its intensity.
I needed to think—needed a plan—but the demon’s assault left little time to breathe. demon's claws slashed at me again, and this time, they caught my shoulder, sending a searing pain through my body. I cried out, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep moving.
I can’t beat him like this…
The demon snarled, towering over me as he prepared to strike again. His monstrous form was unstoppable, a hulking mass of raw power that seemed to feed off the darkness itself. My vision blurred, exhaustion finally catching up to me as I tried to summon the void magic again.
But nothing happened. The void was slipping from my grasp, its energy fading with each passing second.
The demon grinned, his jagged teeth gleaming.
I gritted my teeth, refusing to let him see the fear clawing at my chest. I couldn’t go down like this. Not after everything I’d survived. But as the demon raised his clawed hand for the final blow, I felt my strength leaving me.
Then, suddenly, a deep voice rumbled through the air.
The chieftain stepped forward, his massive hammer gleaming as he came between me and the demon that had once been the warlock. His expression was grim, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating anger.
The demon hissed, his monstrous form twitching with barely contained rage and says something to the orc.
But orc shook his head, his gaze unflinching and replies to the demon. Whatever the chieftain said made the demon roared in anger, the ground beneath him cracking and smoldering even more as his demonic form swelled with power.
The chieftain swung his axe with terrifying speed, cutting through the air with a force that shook the ground. The demon barely had time to react, his clawed hand coming up to block the blow, but the force of the strike sent him staggering back, roaring in fury.
And as the demon and the chieftain clashed, I knew this was my only chance, I hope I can survive.