Chapter 365: Four horns?!!

Words : 2536 Updated : Oct 9th, 2025

Chapter 365: Four horns?!! The fusion attack erupted from Storm’s maw like the birth of a new star. Lightning and ice didn’t just combine—they transformed into something that had never existed before, a spiral of frozen electricity that screamed as it tore through the atmosphere. The beam was as wide as a city block and moved faster than thought itself, carving a path to Kruel that left the air itself changed in its wake. When it struck the ground, the world ended. Not metaphorically. For a radius of twenty miles in every direction, existence simply stopped being what it was and became something else. The temperature didn’t drop gradually—it fell like a stone thrown from a cliff, plummeting from desert heat to subzero in the span of a heartbeat. Every molecule of moisture in the air crystallized instantly, creating a blizzard of ice shards that fell like glittering rain. **CRACK!** The ground froze so fast that the molecular structure of the rock itself changed, becoming something harder than steel and colder than the void between stars. Trees didn’t just die—they shattered like glass sculptures, their frozen fragments adding to the storm of debris that whirled through the air. Miles away, Lucas felt the wall of cold rushing toward them like a tsunami made of winter itself. His hands moved without conscious thought, electricity erupting from his body in a protective dome that crackled and sparked as it fought to hold back forces that could remake the laws of physics. "Get behind me!" he shouted to Cassandra, but she was already moving, pressing herself against his back as the world outside their electrical shelter became a frozen hell. Ice crystals the size of dinner plates hammered against Lucas’s barrier, each impact sending shockwaves through his nervous system. The cold was so intense that even through his electrical protection, Cassandra could feel it trying to steal the warmth from her bones. "Jesus Christ," she whispered, watching through the crackling energy as the landscape transformed into something that belonged on an alien world. "What kind of monster did Noah send us?" Lucas gritted his teeth, pouring more power into his shield as another wave of frozen debris slammed into them. "The kind that might actually be able to win this fight," he said. Then, after a moment of silence broken only by the howling of supernatural wind, he added, "Cassie, I need to tell you something. About Noah." "What about him?" she asked, but her voice was distant, distracted by the chaos outside their shelter. "He’s not really lost." The words hung between them like a confession. Cassandra’s head snapped around, her eyes wide with shock and something that might have been anger. "What the hell do you mean he’s not lost? You said he was taken!" "He was," Lucas said quickly, his concentration split between maintaining their protection and explaining the impossible situation they found themselves in. "But not by Kruel. There’s another Harbinger—a female. The first one we’ve ever encountered." Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. A female Harbinger. In all their years of fighting this war, they’d never even confirmed that such things existed. The implications were staggering. "She captured him," Lucas continued, "but Noah found a way out. The problem is what he discovered while he was there." Another impact against their shield made him wince, but he pressed on. "An hour ago, Kelvin figured out what was wrong with this system. There’s a telepath, probably S-ranked or higher, being used to control the people of this world. That’s why humans have been working with the Harbingers." The pieces began falling into place in Cassandra’s mind. "Mind control," she breathed. "Exactly. We’ve been fighting our own people this whole time, and they didn’t even know it." Lucas’s voice was bitter with the weight of that revelation. "When we landed here as assigned, we were cornered by supposed refugees. It was all orchestrated." "So Noah confirmed this?" "He did more than that. He sent me to intercept our team and relay the message. But on my way to find Noah’s squad, I discovered something else—you and your people were under attack." Lucas’s gaze swept across the battlefield visible through their electrical dome, taking in the bodies of fallen soldiers scattered like broken dolls across the frozen wasteland. "I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner," Lucas said quietly. "By the time I found you..." "They were already gone," Cassandra finished, her voice hollow with grief she’d been holding back. "I know. I was there when it happened." "And they walked straight into a trap they couldn’t possibly understand." Lucas’s jaw clenched. "Noah’s at the location of the telepath now, but he can’t just make them stop the mind control. An abrupt halt in the transmission would kill the telepath—and probably all two hundred thousand people on the three planets of this system." Cassandra felt a weight settle in her stomach. "So what’s the plan?" "Signal nodes," Lucas said. "Scattered across all three planets. We have to locate and destroy them in a coordinated strike. Kelvin, Lyra, Sophie, Diana, and Noah—Pathfinder Team 7—they’re working with other recruits to map out the network. When we take them all down simultaneously, Noah can handle the rest." The plan made sense, but it also explained something else that had been bothering Cassandra. "That’s why you played along when I asked about Noah being missing. If Kruel knew we had a plan in motion..." "He’d do everything in his power to stop it." Lucas nodded grimly. "Right now, he thinks we’re just another failed rescue mission. Let’s keep it that way." They fell silent, both lost in their own thoughts as the supernatural blizzard continued to rage around them. Finally, Cassandra spoke again. "Now we just have to pray that Storm can pull this off." Through the crackling energy of Lucas’s barrier, they could see shapes moving in the frozen hellscape—massive forms locked in combat that shook the very foundations of the ground they stood on. --- At the epicenter of the devastation, Kruel rose from a crater that had been carved into ice harder than reinforced concrete. His skin was blackened and blistered, blood streaming from wounds that tried to heal even as new injuries appeared. The casual arrogance was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous—genuine fury. "Impressive," he snarled, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "But if you think a little cold is going to—" **WHOOOM!** Storm’s tail whipped through the air like a living siege engine, catching Kruel across the chest and sending him flying through three frozen hillsides. The wyvern followed immediately, his massive wings carrying him forward at speeds that turned the air itself into a weapon. Kruel managed to get his feet under him just as Storm’s claws raked across his torso, opening wounds that went deep enough to show bone. The three-horn’s counterattack was immediate and brutal—an uppercut that caught Storm under the jaw and lifted the massive wyvern fifty feet off the ground. But Storm twisted in midair, his serpentine flexibility allowing him to coil around Kruel’s extended arm. The wyvern’s jaws clamped down on the Harbinger’s shoulder, teeth that could crush starship armor finding purchase in flesh that had seemed invulnerable moments before. Kruel roared in pain and fury, grabbing Storm’s neck with his free hand and squeezing. The pressure should have crushed the wyvern’s windpipe, but Storm’s Frost Carapace activated, ice forming around his throat in layers thick enough to absorb the crushing force. They fell together, two titans locked in a death grip, their combined weight creating an impact crater that could be seen from the stratosphere. The ice around them cracked and shattered, sending up clouds of frozen debris that caught the light like a thousand tiny stars. Storm rolled away first, his agility allowing him to recover faster than his opponent. Lightning began building in his throat again, but this time it was different—not the fusion attack that had reshaped the landscape, but something more focused, more personal. The Thunderbolt Strike hit Kruel center mass, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the wall of ice that had once been a mountain. The electrical discharge didn’t just burn—it cooked, sending the smell of charred flesh across the battlefield. But Kruel was already moving, pushing himself away from the ice wall even as his wounds tried to heal around the electrical burns. His fist connected with Storm’s snout, a blow that would have demolished a building. The wyvern’s head snapped back, but he recovered instantly, his own claws raking across Kruel’s ribs in return. They separated, circled each other like gladiators in some cosmic arena. Both were bleeding now, both showing signs of damage that would have killed lesser beings instantly. But neither showed any sign of backing down. Storm’s wings spread wide, and suddenly the air was full of ice shards—not random debris, but carefully crafted projectiles that flew with deadly accuracy. Each shard was as sharp as a surgical blade and moved faster than bullets, creating a storm of frozen death that surrounded Kruel from all directions. The three-horn’s response was to spin, his arms moving so fast they became blurs, deflecting the ice shards with bare skin. But there were too many, and several found their mark, opening new wounds across his torso and legs. Storm pressed his advantage, diving low and sweeping Kruel’s legs with his massive tail. As the Harbinger fell, the wyvern’s jaws opened wide, another blast of concentrated cold erupting from his throat. This time, Kruel couldn’t dodge completely. The arctic breath caught his left side, flash-freezing flesh and muscle until his entire arm was encased in ice thick enough to stop artillery shells. But instead of retreating, Kruel did the impossible—he grabbed Storm’s lower jaw with his frozen arm, using it as leverage to pull himself closer to the wyvern’s head. His free fist drove upward, connecting with Storm’s eye in a blow that sent shockwaves through the massive creature’s skull. **BOOM!** Storm’s roar of pain and fury shook the frozen landscape, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he activated his Winter Vortex ability, the air around both combatants beginning to spin in a tight spiral that grew faster and more violent by the second. Kruel found himself caught in a tornado of supercooled air and ice, the vortex lifting him off his feet and spinning him like a leaf in a hurricane. But even as the winds tried to tear him apart, he managed to grab one of Storm’s wing membranes, his grip strong enough to drag the wyvern into the vortex with him. They spun together, locked in combat even as the supernatural winds tried to separate them. Kruel’s fists found their mark repeatedly, each punch driving the air from Storm’s lungs. But the wyvern’s claws were equally busy, opening new wounds across the Harbinger’s torso with each revolution. The vortex finally collapsed, dropping both combatants to the frozen ground with bone-jarring impacts. They rolled apart, both breathing hard, both showing signs of serious damage. But Storm was getting angrier. The wyvern’s eyes had changed color, shifting from electric blue to something closer to white-hot flame. Ice began forming around his body, not the controlled manifestation of his abilities, but something wild and chaotic that responded to his fury rather than his will. When he attacked again, it was with a savagery that hadn’t been present before. His claws didn’t just rake—they tore, opening wounds that went deep enough to show organs beneath. Kruel tried to match the escalation, his own attacks becoming more brutal and desperate. But for every blow he landed, Storm delivered three in return. The wyvern’s pain seemed to fuel his anger, and his anger made him faster, stronger, more dangerous than before. The pattern that emerged was devastating in its simplicity. Storm would unleash a combination of claws, tail, and elemental attacks that drove Kruel backward, then follow up immediately with another assault before the Harbinger could recover. Again and again, the same brutal sequence played out across the frozen battlefield. By the fourth repetition, Kruel was no longer fighting back effectively. His movements were sluggish, his counterattacks weak and poorly timed. Blood covered his body like a second skin, and even his enhanced healing couldn’t keep up with the damage Storm was inflicting. The fifth sequence was even more vicious than the previous ones. Storm’s claws opened wounds from shoulder to hip, his tail caught Kruel across both knees with enough force to shatter reinforced concrete, and the lightning that followed cooked flesh that was already raw and bleeding. When the attack ended, Kruel lay in a crater twenty feet deep, his body broken and smoking. For a moment, Storm thought it might finally be over. Then he heard the chuckling. It started low, barely audible above the howling wind that still swept across the frozen wasteland. But it grew louder, more confident, until it became full-throated laughter that somehow carried more menace than any roar of fury. Kruel sat up in his crater, blood streaming down his face, his body a map of wounds that should have been fatal. But he was smiling, and Storm’s predatory instincts recognized something dangerous in that expression. "You know," Kruel said conversationally, wiping more blood from his split lip, "I was beginning to think this planet might disappoint me after all. The humans here put up such a pathetic fight, and even their so-called champions seemed weak and broken." Storm began gathering power for another attack, ice and lightning swirling around his form as he prepared to end this fight once and for all. But something made him pause—a change in the air, an energy signature he’d never encountered before. The space between Kruel’s three horns was changing. What had been scarred flesh began to bulge and crack, a vertical split appearing in the center of his forehead. Blood seeped from the opening, but there was something else—something small and sharp pushing through from beneath. A fourth horn. "Thank you," Kruel said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude as the new growth emerged another inch. "It’s been so long since I’ve had a proper fight. So long since someone pushed me hard enough to trigger the next stage of my evolution." Power radiated from the emerging horn like heat from a forge, and with each passing second, Kruel seemed to grow larger, more imposing, more dangerous. His wounds were healing faster now, the gashes across his torso closing with visible speed. The burns from Storm’s lightning faded like morning mist, and even the frozen damage to his arm began to thaw and regenerate. "You see," Kruel continued, standing up in his crater as his body transformed before Storm’s eyes, "most beings can only push me to use about sixty percent of my true strength. You’ve managed to bring out nearly eighty percent, which is... unprecedented for this sector of space." The fourth horn was half-emerged now, and with each millimeter of growth, Kruel’s presence seemed to expand. "But now that you’ve helped me evolve," he said, flexing fingers."let me show you what a four-horn Harbinger can do."

Chapter 365: Four horns?!!

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