Jinn BLADE
Chapter 117 | You Will Not Advance

Chapter 117: Chapter 117 | You Will Not Advance

The air was thick with whispers, haunting and cold, as the figure stood beside Malgareth who was already kneeling, his head lowered in complete silence upon its presence.

Shadows danced across the ground as if the world itself trembled from what had just arrived.

The figure wore a long black cloak, torn and old, the fabric swaying ever so slightly with each breath of wind.

Its face was hidden, lost inside the depths of a dark hood that seemed to swallow light itself.

Then it came.

Silence.

The whispers faded all at once, like a breath held by something unseen, something ancient and watching.

Not even the wind dared to move now.

The figure leaned down and gently touched Malgareth’s shoulder.

No words were spoken.

No sounds were made.

Only the eerie stillness of that one moment stretched endlessly.

And then, without warning, the figure vanished, dissolving into mist as if it was never there to begin with.

Malgarreth stayed still for a second longer before rising to his feet.

His movements were slow, but there was something heavy in the air around him now.

The moment he stood upright, the voices that had disappeared screamed once more.

This time they were louder, almost desperate, echoing with something twisted.

But Malgareth didn’t seem bothered.

He walked forward, step by step, and with each one, the ground under him seemed to grow darker.

The aura that surrounded him before—his eidra—changed.

What once shimmered faintly like smoke now pulsed with the color of pure darkness.

No glow,

no warmth.

Just an empty black that seemed to pull in all light, as if even the world was afraid to see what he had become.

Then, with a sudden and sharp motion, Malgareth drove his sword into the ground.

*Crack!

A loud, echoing sound followed as the blade pierced deep into the earth, sending a pulse of dark energy across the field.

From where the sword struck, pillars of pure darkness erupted, twisting and rising like towers of smoke and shadow.

The air shook with pressure as the dark pillars spiraled upward, surrounding him in a circle of corruption.

Moments later, the effect began to spread.

The entire horizon, once dim and distant, started to change.

One by one, similar dark pillars rose across the land. I

it was as if the very sky was being closed off, the world beyond being hidden behind a massive wall made from living shadows.

The dark mist climbed higher and higher, forming a curtain that swallowed light and hope, until nothing could be seen behind it.

Then, something worse happened.

The black wall began to melt, dripping down like tar, and from that liquid darkness, four distinct shapes started to take form.

The shapes twisted and solidified until they fully resembled Malgareth himself—four perfect copies of him, cloaked in the same heavy armor, their eyes glowing dim under their helms.

Each clone radiated an aura just like his, drenched in thick, swirling dark eidra.

It was impossible to tell which was the real one by sight alone.

"Troy, you handle the other four," Venedix said, her voice calm as ever, but there was something underneath it—a steady force that made the air around her tremble slightly.

She stood tall, her hair moving gently with the energy surrounding her.

The ground at her feet cracked slightly as the power she held surged through her body, coating her in a layer of concentrated eidra.

"I’ll handle Malgareth himself."

She didn’t wait for a reply.

Without another word, Venedix stepped forward, fearless and unmoved.

Her twin blades in each hand sparked with energy.

The edges shimmered, small lines of light tracing their shape, and with each step she took, the blades began to hum louder.

Sparks of raw eidra licked at the edges, until they cracked and let out a soft whirring sound that grew fiercer by the second.

The sound echoed around her, like the growl of a beast ready to strike.

Her presence was unwavering, focused solely on the one who now stood waiting.

Troy then took a single step forward, letting out a long sigh as he glanced to the side, eyes slightly narrowed from both irritation and acceptance.

"The things I do for knowledge..." he muttered, almost to himself, before tapping the base of his staff against the ground.

*tap!

At once, a dark circular symbol spread from the impact point, its edges glowing faintly.

The symbol shimmered for just a second before it burst into a flare of dark light that covered the field in shadows.

Then it appeared.

From the center of the glowing mark, a lone figure began to rise.

Its entire body was wrapped in a glow of dark light, almost like smoke, yet its features were still clearly visible through the haze.

The figure had long, flowing hair, and thick chains wrapped around both arms, dangling loosely like weapons waiting to be used.

"Erenhold—" Troy coughed and corrected himself, "I mean, clone of Erenhold, support us."

At the sound of his name, the summoned clone gave no reply.

Instead, he lowered both of his hands and pressed his palms against the ground.

*clack! *CLACK!

Instantly, thick black chains erupted from his arms and raced across the ground, flying straight toward the advancing clones of Malgareth.

The chains moved with force and precision, ready to bind and stop the dark copies as they charged forward.

Troy then turned his attention towards Biyo, Garan, and the group of children standing behind them.

"Now then—care if you assist me, oh great warriors?" Troy said with a short breath, his voice sharp yet filled with energy.

Garan let out a low snarl, clearly annoyed, but he still moved forward without hesitation.

His eidra began to wrap tightly around his body, forming layers of protective force around his arms and chest.

His claws gleamed slightly under the shifting light as he bared them, already preparing for battle.

"I better be free after this," Garan grumbled under his breath as he walked ahead, his presence heavy and wild.

Just behind him, Biyo followed closely.

Biyo turned his head back for a second, glancing toward the children.

"Support us from the backlines," he said firmly, his tone serious but not unkind.

"This fight isn’t for all of you, not yet."

The children didn’t protest.

They only nodded in understanding, their eyes focused and ready.

Even if they wouldn’t join the front lines, they were still determined to help in any way they could.

"We’ll just be doing attacks from range," Ophelia replied quickly, her voice calm.

Light was already forming in her hands, her power humming gently in the air.

Troy noticed it, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced in her direction.

Something flickered in his expression, a realization he didn’t share.

He simply gave a soft hum under his breath, "Mhm," and turned away.

With that, Biyo, Garan, and Troy moved forward together, their steps steady as they advanced.

Behind them, the children prepared for support, their small hands glowing with magic and energy.

Far ahead, Venedix was already face-to-face with Malgareth himself.

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