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“Impossible”
One of the fighters gasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of the wind.
“He broke through the first layer like it was nothing!”
The commander, who had mocked Kent’s “fools’ tricks,” stood in stunned silence, his face drained of color as he watched Kent’s chariot blaze a trail toward the heart of the formation.
As the chariot sped through the gap created by Kent’s arrow, Fatty expertly maneuvered it, keeping pace with Kent’s instructions. With each pass, the chariot circled the formation, and every time Kent’s feet touched Fatty’s shoulder, they found a new weak point in the formation’s defenses.
Instead of directly moving in, the chariot was moving between outer two circles and crumbling the defense into pieces.
Troops scrambled to reform their lines, to counter the seemingly unstoppable force that was Kent, but their efforts were futile. The sky continued to rumble ominously, and the winds howled louder, as if nature itself was siding with Kent.
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“Prepare the next line of defense! Don’t let him advance any further! Use the Yantra Spells!” another commander yelled, but his words were drowned out by the sounds of battle, the cries of the wounded, and the roars of the divine beasts pulling Kent’s chariot.
Simon, watching from the center of the formation, felt his earlier anger morph into cold, paralyzing frustration. As he gripped the crystal conch tighter, his eyes burning with desperation, he knew that the real battle was only just beginning.
Kent continued his relentless assault, arrows flying from his bow with terrifying precision. To those watching, his hands were nothing but a blur; the speed at which he drew arrows from his quiver, knocked them onto the bowstring, and released them was beyond comprehension. It was as if the arrows themselves materialized out of thin air.
The Divine Quiver on Kent’s back was no ordinary artifact—it was a creation of the gods. Each arrow Kent fired carried with it a fragment of divine wrath.
The formation, no matter how powerful, began to crumble under the onslaught. The once-impenetrable outer barrier, designed to protect against the mightiest of spells, was now showing signs of fracture, its glowing lines dimming and flickering like a candle in the wind.
From a distance, Lily, the trainer of the formation, watched Kent with an admiring look in her eyes. Her lips curved into a smile, though her heart was heavy with the weight of realization.
She understood what was happening—Kent knew exactly how to crack the Lotus Chakra Formation, and he was doing it with a mastery that only a few in existence could claim.
“He’s magnificent,” Lily whispered to herself, her eyes never leaving Kent. She could see the brilliance in his strategy, the way he exploited every weakness with a finesse that left the other realm disciples scrambling in disarray.
But even as she admired his skill, a sense of dread crept into her thoughts. “Only Simon can stop him now.”She thought bitterly, cursing the disciples who were so blinded by their greed for the Beast Spirit legacy that they had forgotten their primary objective.
Her gaze shifted to the other realm disciples who were abandoning their posts, focusing on taking Kent’s life to gain the favor of the celestial beings above. But Kent was like a storm, devastating everything in his path, and the more they tried to bring him down, the stronger he seemed to become.
Meanwhile…
In the Seventh Realm, far from the chaos on the Blue Planet, Jason Mama, the father of Simon, watched the unfolding battle through an aurora glass. His face was a mask of cold fury, his fingers gripping the glass so tightly that it seemed as though it might shatter at any moment.
He could see the formation faltering, see the fear in the eyes of those who were supposed to defend it. And above all, he saw Kent—shining like the morning sun, an unstoppable force that threatened to undo all of his carefully laid plans.
“Damn that bastard!” Jason growled, his voice dripping with venom. He turned to the realm head of the Ninth Realm, who stood beside him with a nervous expression.
Without a word, Jason reached his spirit ring and produced a spear—a weapon of extraordinary length, nearly ten feet, and crafted from a material that seemed to pulse with an inner light. The spear’s tip gleamed ominously, a testament to the power it held within.
“I got this spear from the Spirit Realm, forged by the Yogic Sage himself. It can shatter anything. But it can only be used once. Go to the Blue Planet immediately and use this against that upstart who dares to ruin my son’s legacy.” Jason said to the 9th realm head, his voice low and dangerous.
The Ninth Realm head swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between the spear and Jason’s furious gaze. He knew what was being asked of him—no, what was being demanded of him.
Death is certain for anyone who dares to attack people on blessed land now. To use this spear meant certain death for anyone and he would be breaking the sacred laws by attacking someone there. But as he hesitated, he felt the full weight of Jason’s rage.
Jason’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, his voice a harsh whisper. “Do you understand what’s at stake here? My son’s future, the future of the 9 realms! If you fail me, I’ll not only take your life but also the lives of everyone you hold dear. Do exactly as I say, or face my wrath.”
The Ninth Realm head felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew Jason was not a man to make empty threats. With a helpless look, he nodded, accepting the spear with trembling hands. “I will do as you command, Lord Jason,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
As the Ninth Realm head turned to leave, Ryon Lionheart, who had been silently observing from the side, finally spoke up. “Are you sure about this? That young arch-mage is still far away from reaching Simon, but sending the 9th realm head to his death…”
Jason cut him off with a sharp glance. “Ryon, I won’t let anyone stand in Simon’s way. Not arch-mage, not the gods, not anyone. That spear will ensure his demise, and with it, Simon’s path to glory will be secured.”
Ryon didn’t argue. He too saw the potential danger Kent posed, and deep down, he understood Jason’s desperation. But there was a nagging doubt, a fear that this reckless action might have far-reaching consequences.
The Ninth Realm head, now fully committed to his task, left the Seventh Realm with a heavy heart. Using the teleportation points and flying Yantras, he rushed toward the Blue Planet, his mind racing with fear and resignation. He knew that if he failed, his entire family would be wiped out.
And yet, as he sped toward his destination, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into his doom, that the battle he was about to join would be his last.
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TQ for GT&PS.