Chapter 218 Fight Against Beasts

Alaric gently helped Ceanna back to her feet, the echo of her oath still seeming to hang in the cool night air. The faint golden lines had faded from the grass, but the invisible tether connecting her soul to his system felt tangible to him, a new strand woven into the complex tapestry of his power.

He looked down at her, saw the lingering awe mixed with a nascent, confused flush staining her cheeks. The upgraded Emperor’s Presence and Enhanced Charm Aura were already working, subtly pulling at her, making his presence more commanding, more desirable.

‘No need to rush this,’ Alaric thought, a predatory patience settling over him. ‘She has willingly bound herself to my system. She renounced her God for me.’ He allowed himself a small, internal smirk. ‘The seduction will be… exquisite. With the Divine Harem God System enhancing my abilities, it’s only a matter of time before she yields completely.’

He pictured it: Saintess Ceanna Paxton, the epitome of holy purity and righteous conviction, eventually succumbing, perhaps even begging him to defile her, to take her ‘sexy holy body’ as she shed the last vestiges of her former self. ‘Yes,’ he mused. ‘That will be a sight worth savouring. But patience yields the sweetest fruit.’

For now, he offered her a reassuring, almost paternal smile. “Your conviction is admirable, Ceanna. Your strength in severing old ties… it speaks volumes. You have chosen a path of true purpose.”

Ceanna nodded, seeming to draw strength from his words, though the rapid beating of her heart under his gaze felt entirely unfamiliar. “Thank you, Alaric. I… I believe I have.”

“Come,” he said gently, offering his arm. “Let us return. We have much to prepare for.”

They walked back to the inn together, Ceanna occasionally stealing glances at him, unconsciously drawn to the powerful aura he now projected more strongly than ever. Alaric pretended not to notice, maintaining a demeanor of supportive leadership.

Back in their private wing of the inn, they found Rosalind had already returned, looking pleased with herself. Spread out on a large table were maps marked with various locations, lists of names, and detailed dossiers.

“Good news, Alaric,” Rosalind announced as they entered. “The Radiant Pearl Guild was… cooperative.” A slight emphasis on the word suggested she had applied the necessary pressure.

“They provided comprehensive data on six confirmed Sixth Order beast lairs within a three-day ride,” she continued, tapping locations on the map. “Mostly territorial predators – a Crimson Apex Wolf pack here, a Stonehide Goliath there, a nesting pair of Sky-Ripper Griffins…”

She pointed to another section. “And, more interestingly, credible reports of a Seventh Order entity recently sighted in the Whispering Peaks region, specifically around Mount Cinderfell.”

Alaric’s interest sharpened. “Seventh Order confirmed?”

“As confirmed as guild reports get,” Rosalind shrugged. “Multiple independent sightings by high-level hunting parties who wisely chose not to engage. Described as immense, wreathed in storm energy. They’re calling it the ‘Thunder Tyrant Behemoth’.”

‘Thunder Tyrant Behemoth…’ Alaric committed the name to memory. ‘Seventh Order. Perfect.’

“They also provided profiles on two dozen available mercenaries,” Rosalind added, gesturing to another stack of papers. “I’ve vetted them based on guild reputation and mission history. Mostly experienced hunters and trackers, Master rank or high Expert rank. Should bolster our numbers effectively for dealing with lesser beasts and navigating the territories.”

“Excellent work, Rosalind,” Alaric praised sincerely. Her efficiency and understanding of the guild system were invaluable.

“They understood the ‘request’ came directly from the Lord,” Rosalind smirked. “Mentioning your name, and the Princess, tends to… encourage cooperation.”

“As it should,” Alaric nodded. “Alright. We depart at dawn. First target: the Lunar Paradise Woods – the Crimson Apex Wolf pack resides there. Then, the Slumbering Rain Forest – the Stonehide Goliath. We’ll clear the Sixth Order threats systematically, gather the cores, and then proceed to Mount Cinderfell for the Seventh Order prize.”

The plan was set. The rest of the evening was spent finalizing preparations, briefing the newly hired mercenaries who arrived shortly after, and ensuring everyone was ready for the expedition.

The next three days were a whirlwind of travel and efficient, brutal hunting. Alaric’s group moved like a well-oiled machine.

The journey itself was swift, Alaric subtly manipulating wind currents to ease their travel.

The Lunar Paradise Woods lived up to its ethereal name, bathed in a soft, silvery light even during the day. But the beauty hid danger. The Crimson Apex Wolf pack – six massive wolves, each easily Sixth Order, led by an alpha radiating savage power – ambushed them with terrifying speed.

“Formation!” Captain Valerius roared. The Master Martialists instantly formed a defensive perimeter, shields locking, weapons ready.

“Seven Star Thrust!” Valerius bellowed, his spear blurring as he met the alpha wolf’s charge head-on.

“Holy Radiance!” Ceanna invoked, no longer needing chants. A wave of pure light washed over the martialists, enhancing their strength, speed, and defenses. The effect was noticeably stronger than her previous blessings.

“Gale Shredder Vortex!” Alaric pointed, and miniature tornados of cutting wind ripped into the pack, disrupting their coordination.

Rosalind followed up with targeted spells. “Arcane Bind!” Ethereal chains lashed out, briefly tangling the legs of two wolves.

The fight was fierce but short. The wolves were powerful, their claws like razors, their fangs capable of crushing steel. But Alaric’s group was overwhelming. His elemental magic tore through their ranks, Ceanna’s holy power weakened them and healed any minor injuries the martialists sustained instantly, Rosalind disrupted their pack tactics, and Valerius and his men fought with enhanced ferocity. The alpha wolf fell to a combined assault from Valerius and a targeted Sunfire Incineration Ray from Alaric. The rest were dispatched quickly.

‘Six Sixth Order cores,’ Alaric noted with satisfaction as the mercenaries efficiently harvested the valuable magic cores from the carcasses. ‘A good start.’

Brita Kuusk watched the swift extermination from the edge of the clearing, her emerald eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Impressive coordination. And Alaric… his control over multiple elements is flawless. Grandmaster rank suits him.’

Next came the Slumbering Rain Forest. A dense, humid jungle teeming with life. Their target was the Stonehide Goliath, a massive, ape-like beast known for its incredible strength and near-impenetrable hide.

Finding it took time, guided by the hired trackers. They eventually located it in a massive cavern hidden behind a waterfall.

The Goliath roared upon seeing them, pounding its chest – a sound like thunder echoing in the cavern.

“Iron Mountain Charge!” Valerius led the martialists forward, their enhanced bodies slamming into the beast to gain its attention. Their weapons sparked harmlessly off its stone-like skin.

“Focus on the joints! Eyes!” Valerius commanded.

“Weakening Curse!” Rosalind incanted, a sickly green light briefly enveloping the Goliath, attempting to soften its defenses.

“Glacial Prison Shards!” Alaric unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp ice, aiming for the beast’s eyes and mouth.

Ceanna bathed the area in Consecrated Ground, the holy energy visibly irritating the Goliath, making its movements slightly sluggish while simultaneously invigorating the martialists.

The Goliath fought with brute force, swinging massive fists that could pulverize rock, tearing chunks out of the cavern walls. But the martialists, buffed by Ceanna and expertly led by Valerius, skillfully dodged and parried, landing precise strikes on its few vulnerable points. Alaric’s magic blasted away chunks of its hide, while Rosalind continuously hampered its movements with binding and slowing spells.

Eventually, weakened and enraged, the Goliath fell to a final, powerful Chain Lightning Obliteration spell from Alaric that overloaded its nervous system through the wounds they had created.

Another Sixth Order core secured.

They moved through four more designated locations over the next week and a half – treacherous swamps housing Hydra-like beasts, arid canyons home to Sand Wyrms, mist-shrouded peaks guarded by Storm Rocs. Each encounter tested the group, honed their teamwork, and yielded valuable Sixth Order cores. Alaric ensured everyone got combat experience, occasionally letting Rosalind or even Valerius land the killing blow on weakened foes. Ceanna’s power grew noticeably as she adapted to channeling the ‘system’s’ divine energy, her buffs becoming stronger, her healing more potent.

Throughout these hunts, Brita often remained slightly apart, observing. She participated when necessary, her Master Mage level spells adding decent firepower, but her primary role seemed to be reconnaissance and analysis.

‘He truly is monstrous,’ Brita thought, watching Alaric effortlessly vaporize a Sixth Order Swamp Lurker with a single fire spell. ‘From Master Mage to Grandmaster in mere months… crossing two Great Realms. Even Lord Vortan wasn’t that fast.’ She recalled her master, the enigmatic leader of the Phantom Assembly. Lord Vortan was powerful, terrifyingly so, but Alaric’s trajectory was unprecedented. ‘The youngest Grandmaster Mage in history… and potentially the strongest.’

She felt a complex mix of awe, fear, and professional curiosity. Alaric had brought her along, she suspected, not just for her skills, but as a statement. A demonstration. ‘He wants the Assembly to know,’ she mused. ‘He wants Lord Vortan to know what he’s capable of.’ His power was a potential threat to any organization, including their shadowy one. ‘It’s fortunate he remains an ally… for now.’ She shivered slightly, remembering the casual way he wielded his power, the cold calculation often visible behind his charming smile.

Alaric, sensing her gaze, glanced back briefly, a knowing look in his ruby eyes. ‘Yes, Brita,’ he thought. ‘Watch closely. Understand who holds the real power. Lord Vortan is strong, but I am the future. And soon… you too will understand the benefits of… aligning closely with me.’ His plan to seduce her, to bind her loyalty through pleasure and perceived necessity, was firmly in place, waiting for the right moment.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of relentless hunting, they arrived at the Whispering Peaks, making their way towards the ominous Mount Cinderfell. The air grew thin, cold. An unnatural stillness hung over the jagged, volcanic rock formations. The mercenaries grew visibly tense.

“We’re close,” one of the hired trackers whispered, pointing towards a massive caldera ahead. “The energy readings… they spike near the summit.”

As they cautiously approached the caldera rim, the ground began to tremble slightly. A low, resonant hum filled the air, growing steadily louder. And then, it rose.

From the heart of the caldera, a colossal figure emerged. It was easily over fifty meters tall, a quadrupedal behemoth built like a mountain. Its hide was thick, dark grey, like overlapping plates of obsidian, scarred and ancient. Veins of crackling blue energy pulsed beneath its skin, concentrated around massive horns curving forward from its skull and along the spiked ridge running down its spine. Storm clouds seemed to coalesce around its form, flashing with internal lightning.

The Thunder Tyrant Behemoth. Seventh Order.

Its sheer presence was overwhelming. A wave of primal fear washed over the group, suppressed only by discipline and Ceanna’s immediate counter-aura of holy calm.

“Magnificent,” Alaric breathed, his eyes gleaming with excitement, not fear. “Alright, everyone! Positions! Remember the plan!”

The mercenaries wisely fell back, forming a support perimeter, their task now simply to watch and handle any lesser creatures the Behemoth might summon (though none appeared). The core group stepped forward.

“Ceanna! Buffs, full power!” Alaric commanded.

“Understood!” Ceanna raised her hands, and brilliant golden light erupted from her, far more intense than before. “Aegis of Courage! Might of the Just! Speed of Light’s Herald!” The potent holy energies flowed into Alaric, Rosalind, Valerius, and the Master Martialists, enveloping them in shimmering auras. Muscles bulged, senses sharpened, magical energy surged.

“Valerius! Engage! Draw its attention! Defensive maneuvers only initially!”

“Aye, Lord Alaric! Formation ‘Iron Tortoise’!” Valerius roared. He and the ten Master Martialists charged, not directly attacking, but spreading out, using coordinated movements and defensive techniques – Guardian’s Parry, Shifting Step Evasion, Mountain Stance Defense – to attract the Behemoth’s attention while minimizing risk.

The Behemoth let out a deafening Primal Roar, a shockwave of sound and fear that hammered against Ceanna’s protective aura. The martialists staggered but held firm.

“Rosalind! Disruptive sequence! Watch for its energy buildup!”

“On it!” Rosalind began chanting rapidly, her staff glowing. “Mana Fluctuation Hex!” A ripple distorted the air around the Behemoth as it gathered lightning in its horns. The buildup faltered for a crucial second.

The Behemoth, annoyed, stomped a massive foot. Earth Shattering Stomp! Cracks spiderwebbed across the ground, sending tremors towards the group. Ceanna countered with Sanctified Ground, stabilizing the earth beneath them.

“My turn,” Alaric grinned. “Let’s test that hide. Tsunami Crash Impact!” He gestured, and a colossal wave of conjured water materialized, slamming into the Behemoth’s flank with concussive force.

The beast staggered, roaring in fury, but the water seemed to do little damage to its obsidian plating.

‘Adamantine Hide ability is potent,’ Alaric noted. ‘Direct force is less effective. Need elemental penetration or internal damage.’

The Behemoth lowered its head, noxious green fumes gathering in its maw.

“Corrosive Spit incoming!” Valerius warned, his team expertly evading as the beast unleashed a volley of sizzling acid.

“Cleanse!” Ceanna instantly neutralized the acid puddles with holy light.

“It’s gathering storm energy again! Big one!” Rosalind shouted, launching another spell. “Temporal Stutter!”

For a fraction of a second, the Behemoth’s movements seemed to skip, disrupting the complex flow of lightning gathering around its horns. The forming storm dispersed.

“Good work, Rosalind!” Alaric called out. “Keep it off balance! Valerius, maintain pressure!” He raised his hands. “Now, let’s turn up the heat! Sunfire Incineration Ray!” A beam of focused, searing sunlight lanced out, striking the Behemoth where the water had hit earlier. This time, the obsidian hide sizzled and glowed cherry red, showing signs of damage.

The Behemoth roared in pain, thrashing its head. It charged towards Valerius’s group, horns crackling.

“Scatter Formation ‘Whispering Wind’!” Valerius commanded. The martialists flowed apart like water, letting the charge pass between them, landing quick, opportunistic strikes with techniques like Serpent’s Fang Pierce and Echoing Blade Strike on joints and underbelly plates, though causing minimal actual harm.

Brita watched from her vantage point, utterly captivated. ‘The teamwork… Ceanna’s buffs are incredible now. Rosalind’s disruption is perfectly timed. Valerius is a master tactician with his unit. And Alaric…’ Her gaze fixed on him. ‘He controls the battlefield.’ The sheer scale and power of his spells were breathtaking. ‘He truly is in a league of his own.’ The intimidation tactic was working perfectly.

The battle raged. The Behemoth unleashed waves of lightning, stomped the earth, tried to gore the nimble martialists. But Ceanna’s buffs and healing kept the fighters protected and resilient, Rosalind relentlessly interrupted its most potent abilities, and Alaric hammered it with high-level elemental spells – Glacial Prison Shards encased its legs in thick ice momentarily, Gale Shredder Vortexes tore at its eyes and softer underbelly, Chain Lightning Obliteration arced across its wet hide from his earlier water spell, causing it visible pain.

The Behemoth was incredibly tough, its Seventh Order vitality immense. It absorbed blow after blow, its roars shaking the very mountains. But it was being worn down, injured, and constantly frustrated by its inability to unleash its full power.

‘Time to end this,’ Alaric decided, sensing the beast gathering energy for what felt like a truly desperate, area-clearing attack. ‘Enough playing.’

He took a deep breath, focusing inward. He reached for the power residing within his soul – the potent, ancient essence of the Azure Spirit Lion he had absorbed long ago.

A faint, ethereal blue aura began to shimmer around Alaric. Behind him, the spectral image of a magnificent, winged lion, radiating immense spiritual pressure, seemed to coalesce for a fleeting moment. The air grew heavy, charged with raw power.

Ceanna gasped, feeling the overwhelming spiritual energy wash over her. Rosalind stumbled back a step, her eyes wide. Valerius and his men felt an instinctive awe and fear. Brita’s breath caught in her throat. ‘What… what is that pressure?!’

Alaric felt the familiar surge, the lion’s essence flooding his mana channels, amplifying his connection to the elements, boosting the raw power of his magic exponentially.

“Behold the power of this great elementals pell!” Alaric roared, his voice echoing with newfound power. His eyes blazed like twin rubies, containing nebulous storms. He raised both hands.

Wind howled, gathering into a concentrated sphere above him.

Flames erupted, swirling into the sphere, turning it into a miniature sun.

Ice shards materialized, drawn into the vortex, chilling it to impossible temperatures.

Water coalesced, compressing within the sphere under immense pressure.

Lightning crackled, arcing violently, weaving through the elemental chaos.

All five elements, forced together, amplified by the Azure Spirit Lion’s spiritual might.

“Elemental Fury:” Alaric intoned, the name of the spell resonating with power, “Tempest Oblivion!”

He thrust his hands forward. The condensed sphere of elemental chaos shot towards the Thunder Tyrant Behemoth like a meteor.

The Behemoth sensed the terrifying power. It tried to erect a final lightning shield, but it was too slow, too late.

The sphere struck its chest.

For a split second, there was absolute silence. Then, reality shattered.

An explosion of cataclysmic proportions erupted. Wind scythed outwards, fire incinerated rock, ice flash-froze the air, water blasted with pulverizing force, and lightning vaporized everything in its path. The combined elemental fury ripped through the Behemoth’s formidable defenses, tore through its Adamantine Hide, and detonated within its very core.

The Behemoth didn’t even have time to roar. Its massive form was simply… obliterated. Vaporized from the inside out. When the blinding light and deafening roar subsided, leaving only a howling wind and a rain of superheated rock fragments, nothing seemed to remain of the Seventh Order beast but a massive, smoking crater.

Silence descended, broken only by the whistling wind and the ragged breathing of the stunned onlookers.

Alaric lowered his hands, the spectral lion image fading, the immense power receding, leaving him feeling invigorated rather than drained.

He surveyed the crater calmly. ‘Effective.’

He turned to his utterly awestruck companions. Valerius and his men were staring, jaws agape. Rosalind looked pale but deeply impressed. Ceanna was looking at him with shining eyes filled with awe and something akin to worship. Brita… Brita looked completely shaken, her usual cool composure shattered.

‘Good,’ Alaric thought with satisfaction. ‘The demonstration was a success.’

He walked towards the center of the crater, ignoring the residual heat. There, amidst the devastation, pulsed a soft, brilliant blue light. The intact magic core of the Thunder Tyrant Behemoth. Seventh Order. radiating immense power.

He reached down and plucked it from the ashes, its energy thrumming in his palm.

Their prize was secured. The mission was a resounding success.