Chapter 37: The Fall Of Misorn City

Words : 1029 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Her fist—hardened with enchanted ore—smashes into his skull. The man's head caves in from the sheer force, his body crumpling lifelessly. More soldiers charge at them. Nyssara tears up a section of the stone wall and hurls it at the incoming group. The massive chunk crashes down, crushing three men instantly. Thurn spins, his silk shooting out and snaring an officer. The man struggles, but Thurn yanks him in and bites deep into his neck. The poison melts through his flesh in seconds. On the ground level, Veltha slithers through the battlefield, her massive serpentine body coiling around the city's defenses. A squad of knights rushes her, shields raised. Veltha grins. "How brave." She lunges, her tail whipping out— CRACK. Three knights go flying from the impact, their armor denting inward from the sheer force. One of them doesn't move. A fourth knight manages to stab her with a spear. The blade barely pierces her scales. Veltha's eyes flick down to the weapon, then up to the soldier. She smirks. "My turn." She opens her jaws—unnaturally wide. Fangs as long as daggers gleam in the firelight. The knight's scream is cut short as Veltha's fangs sink deep into his body. Poison floods his veins in an instant—his skin turns purple, his veins bulge, and his eyes roll back. He collapses, convulsing violently before going still. Groth watches the chaos unfold, a wicked grin on his face. "Let's turn up the heat." He raises his hands, mana crackling. Flames swirl around him, growing larger, hotter. The soldiers below barely have time to react. BOOM. A wave of fire explodes outward. The heat melts armor, flames engulf entire squads, and the city walls blacken from the intensity. Men scream as their flesh burns away. A battalion of adventurers charges through the inferno, weapons drawn. One, a mage, chants a water spell to counter the flames. Groth snaps his fingers. A massive fire lance spears through the mage's chest. The adventurer chokes on his own blood before the flames consume him entirely. Another warrior leaps at Groth, sword raised. Groth steps back, flicking his wrist. A wall of fire erupts between them. The warrior stumbles, but it's too late—Groth hurls a fireball at his face. The man bursts into flames, his screams echoing through the battlefield. From high above, Alix and Grixx continue their silent observation. The once-festive city is now a slaughterhouse. Bodies litter the streets—soldiers, adventurers, and innocent civilians alike. The monstrous horde tears through homes, businesses, and temples like locusts, leaving only ashes and blood in their wake. Screams echo through the air, each one swiftly silenced by blade, fang, or flame. Grixx scoffs, folding his arms. "Your Majesty, these humans are very weak." His tone is almost disappointed. "They only have two warriors above level 200, and even they aren't much of a challenge." Alix, hovering beside him, barely reacts. His crimson gaze sweeps across the carnage below, cold and unreadable. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I overestimated them. But they're even weaker than I thought." He watches as the monsters butcher civilians with the same ferocity as they did the soldiers. A young woman cries out for mercy, clutching a child in her arms. A monstrous beast looms over her, drool dripping from its fanged maw. Without hesitation, it rips into them both. Nearby, a nobleman tries to flee through a back alley. A shadowy figure—Tolga—steps in front of him. "P-Please! I'm just a merchant!" the man stammers, raising his hands. "I can pay you—" Tolga doesn't let him finish. A dagger slides across his throat. He collapses, gasping, his blood pooling into the dirt. Alix watches it all with detached indifference. He feels nothing. No satisfaction. No regret. Just the simple reality that Misorn City is falling, and it is his will that made it happen. In the city Lords mansion, the city's two strongest warriors make their final stand. Sir Daren, the strongest Knight in the Misorn city, and Lyra the Arcane Blade of Misorn city's adventurers guild. Both are seasoned warriors, each above level 200, clad in enchanted armor, weapons glowing with power. Daren's greatsword gleams, slicing through monstrous flesh with precise, devastating arcs. His shield deflects incoming attacks, holding back the tide. Lyra moves like a shadow, her blades leaving trails of arcane energy as she cuts down enemy after enemy. "Hold the line!" Daren roars, his voice firm despite the odds. Lyra grits her teeth. "Daren, we're outnumbered a hundred to one! We need to—" A massive shadow falls over them. Veltha. The serpentine monster slithers forward, her fangs dripping with venom. "Oh? You two are strong." Her golden eyes gleam with cruel amusement. Her massive tail lashes out, shattering the stone courtyard beneath them. Daren barely raises his shield in time—the impact sends him skidding back. Lyra leaps into the air, her blades flashing. She aims for Veltha's eyes. But— SHLINK. A second tail whips up from below, impaling her through the stomach. Lyra chokes, blood spilling from her lips. Veltha grins. "Too slow." She flings Lyra's limp body into a nearby wall. The impact shatters bones. Daren stares in horror. "L-Lyra...?" A burning figure descends from the sky. Groth. The fire mage raises a single hand. A pillar of flames erupts around Daren. The knight screams as his armor melts into his skin, his flesh blackening. A moment later, only charred remains are left. After some time, the battle is finally over. The once-proud city of Misorn now burns, its walls crumbling, its people slaughtered. Smoke rises into the sky, a grim signal of Alix's victory. Alix descends from the sky, his crimson cloak billowing behind him. The air around him hums with power, the embers of destruction reflecting in his cold, unreadable eyes. As his feet touch the ground, Tolga emerges from the mansion. Her expression is one of barely restrained fury. "There's no one in there!" she spits, her voice sharp with frustration. "That bastard Vylan is gone!" Her hands clench into fists, her usual composure cracking.

Chapter 37: The Fall Of Misorn City

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