The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 497: Spreading Fires

Chapter 497: Spreading Fires

The Judgment spell, a seventh-circle spell with the destructive power of a miniature sun, was upon us in an instant. The air crackled and warped under the pressure of its approach, and the very stones beneath us groaned and fractured before the magic even struck.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the blinding white light as it engulfed us. My wards flared and groaned, straining against the overwhelming force of the attack. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I poured more and more mana into them, each second feeling weaker and weaker. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed across the surface of my spells, widening ominously as the searing light seeped through. I screamed as it washed over me, burning my skin and tracing lines of agony across the sunpurge.

After what felt like an eternity, the light faded, my wards barely holding. It was a miracle they hadn’t shattered completely, a miracle I was still alive, considering they were only sixth-level, and this was a seventh-circle assault.

As I recovered, a brilliant orange glow spread across the sky. I looked up to see a magnificent dragon rear its head, a fearsome serpent of red and yellow flame. It wasn’t a summoned creature but a manifestation of a powerful magical art. Which could only mean—

"Ah, there you are," Gayron’s voice called, cutting through the chaos of the battlefield. "Returned to settle our score?"

The dragon struck, darting upwards through the hole in the clouds that Judgment had left behind. A second later, the gray expanse of the sky turned crimson as it exploded within the veil of fire, releasing a shockwave that blasted the storm back for a mile in all directions, momentarily revealing the clear blue sky.

As the explosion’s flames died down, they revealed a protective green sphere the size of the palace. Within the verdant shield, the flying ship hovered, its mana cannons glowing ominously. Victor and R’lissea stood at the prow, gazing down at the city. The Justice Hero’s remaining hand was outstretched, seven lingering whispers of mana marking where the circles of his spell had been moments before. On seeing that we’d survived, his face twisted into a scowl.

R’lissea clutched her staff tightly, a bright green glow emanating from the emerald set atop the twisted wood.

"Damn it, haven’t they given up?" Luxxa exclaimed, scowling up at the airship. "Can’t they tell when they’re beaten?"

I was about to answer Luxxa but paused, my eyes meeting R’lissea’s. We were a thousand yards apart, yet the hesitation and uncertainty I’d seen in her eyes before were gone. She inclined her head in a subtle nod, then shifted her gaze towards the tower where the dragon had emerged.

Gayron, a small, defiant figure atop the highest tower, glared down at the airship, his arms crossed.

"What kind of attack was that?" he called out, his voice laced with mockery. "Even in a sneak attack, with enough time to cast a seventh-circle spell... you’re literally too weak to pop even a sixth-level bubble." He spat, sending a glob of saliva plummeting towards the earth. "Pathetic."

Victor’s face hardened. "I thought I killed you, filth-blood."

Gayron shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned. "Looks like you did a damned bad job of that, too. Considering all your other failings, I’m unsure why you’re surprised."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the three heroes with disdain. "Honestly," he continued, "I’m disappointed. I expected more from the so-called heroes of this world. Compared to Korra, you’re but wisps of smoke in the inferno."

He raised his hand, and a white-hot flame ignited within his grasp. It grew, then condensed, flickering as it intensified, becoming so saturated with mana that tiny cracks appeared in the space around him, the very fabric of reality straining to contain it—the raw power of a seventh-level magical technique concentrated into a single, blazing point between his fingers.

His lip curled in disdain, revealing slightly pointed teeth, as he flicked his hand forward, shaping the miniature inferno into a roaring dragon. The moment it left his hand, the nearby towers ignited, consumed by the sheer intensity of the flames. As the dragon roared towards the airship, embers rained down on the city in a fiery storm of cinders.

But before it could strike, I shook my head. R’lissea’s magic was strong, crafted with a skill that rivaled my own. Judging by its aura, the protective sphere was either a peak sixth-level spell or even a seventh. Even after weathering Gayron’s fiery assault, it should have enough strength left to withstand another attack.

Victor seemed to share my assessment. He began channeling mana into one of his armaments, the spear glowing white-hot with concentrated power.

Gayron frowned, beginning to cast the protective magical art Korra and I had developed based on the Canyon Crawler’s ability. The moment his spell failed against the shield, he would—

A heartbeat before the art collided with the ward, a strange pulse of energy erupted from R’lissea’s soul, coursing through her spell. Before I could analyze what it did or why she adjusted her magic when it was clearly going to work, the dragon slammed into the ship.

The world seemed to freeze as the dragon effortlessly pierced the green shield, shattering it into a thousand shimmering fragments. Another smaller bubble appeared, this one just large enough to shield R’lissea and a small figure standing behind her.

Victor’s eyes widened in surprise before the dragon exploded, engulfing the entire ship in a raging inferno. Chunks of wood, steel, and smoldering debris rained down from the sky, trailing smoke and ash as they disintegrated during their descent.

The ship was still airborne when the flames cleared, though badly damaged. Several mana cannons hung limp and useless, their cores drained of mana, and one was missing entirely. Fires raged across the deck, and anything not made of steel or protected by strong enchantments had been reduced to ash.

Victor had managed to summon a magical technique to shield himself, but he looked haggard, his skin singed and burned in several places. His spear, however, pulsed with mana, a miniature sun amidst the dying flames.

"Die!" he roared, hurling the spear forward with a speed I couldn’t follow. It left a glowing trail of afterimages as it streaked toward Gayron’s chest.

The spear penetrated the apostle’s art with ease, burying itself in his chest. I froze, my heart missing several beats, staring at the impaled demonkin with wide, disbelieving eyes. He couldn’t survive that. But that would mean...Gayron was going to...

"No!" I whispered, shaking my head. I didn’t like the man, but for Korra...?

But something wasn’t right. Gayron stumbled back, blood bubbling between his lips, but he was smiling. Smiling!

"Gotcha."

As the spear left Victor’s hand, a figure materialized from the dissipating flames of the dragon, rising behind the Justice Hero. The demon’s claws were outstretched, its soul brimming with power. I realized Gayron’s intent. He didn’t need to destroy the ship; only touch it with his mana.

"Die!" the demon roared, echoing Victor’s own battle cry from moments before.

It struck with a sixth-level technique, catching the Justice Hero entirely off guard. Victor must have sensed something amiss, but the backlash from casting such a powerful spell left him unable to react in time.

He screamed as the demon’s claws tore through his remaining defenses, leaving a trail of fire across his back. The attack continued past him, ripping through the airship’s hull, splitting the ship in half.

Before I could make out the aftermath, Gayron’s power erupted, engulfing the ship in a blinding inferno. This time, instead of scattered debris, two flaming halves of the ship fell free of the fires, plummeting towards the earth, trailing a shower of screaming, flailing bodies. I caught a glimpse of a soft green glow on the front half before it slammed into the ground. The impact obliterated an entire city block, toppling buildings and incinerating everyone nearby with the raw heat of Gayron’s mana.

"R’lissea," I gasped in a horrified whisper. Strangely, I felt more fear for the Life Hero, who had come to capture or kill me, than for Gayron.

"My lady, you should get going," Kahlen said.

I hesitated, staring at the remains of where the ship had crashed, waiting to see any sign of movement. I could feel a few surges of mana, but the buildings and thick clouds of dust billowing into the air obscured any signs of what was happening within. I cast a final glance at the tower where Gayron lay bleeding but couldn’t make out the figure of the apostle lying there, bleeding or otherwise.

"Very well," I breathed, my voice impossibly soft.

The palace was a rich, graceful structure, more of a complex than an individual building. A series of elegant, walled hallways with arched roofs and spindly towers connected the structure’s rooms. While the cathedral from before had been beautiful, it was clear they spared no expense here. Even the stained glass windows and the statues of the gods decorating the palace were bigger.

My stomach clenched, and I turned my head in disgust. As beautiful as it was, I couldn’t admire it. Their so-called zeal for the gods was nothing but an excuse to practice the darkness and evil in their hearts, to enslave and torture those weaker than themselves. That was what they had done to me, after all, and what they were doing to Elise.

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