Black coats and pale skin pressed forward as one. The Origin Clan no longer fought in rotating waves. Every member committed at the same moment, centuries of shared battle crystallizing into a single, deliberate killing formation.Lucian expanded his domain until the entire ruined plaza became absolute night. Shadows thickened into solid walls that cut off retreat and funneled both Reavers toward the center. Anita flooded the blood already soaking the stone, turning it into a rising tide that dragged at Korrath’s legs and forced Selene to burn extra power just to stay mobile. Alessia merged completely with Lucian’s night so that every shadow strike carried two wills. Mikael, Fenra, and Vel formed the heavy spearhead, raw force and lightning clearing a path. The rest filled every gap—curses, chains, bone spikes, miniature rifts, perfect human timing—until there was no safe angle left.
Heron took the point.
The Draugr’s evolution peaked under the pressure. His grey skin hardened into something closer to living armor. Empty eyes locked on Korrath with terrifying focus. The spear in his hands no longer moved like a weapon; it moved like an extension of a will that refused to stop growing. Zane stayed half a step behind and to the left, dual blood-and-shadow streams ready to exploit whatever opening Heron carved.
Korrath met them with everything he had left.
White fire erupted from every crack in his void-forged armor. Termination pulses hammered outward in rapid succession, each one trying to unmake the approaching line. One pulse clipped Mikael and sent the Butcher King skidding. Another forced Anita to sacrifice a thick blood barrier that shattered into red mist. A third slammed into Heron directly. The Draugr took the hit, body convulsing as the energy tried to erase him, then absorbed what he could and kept coming. His next step was faster than the last.
Selene fought like a cornered star. Erasure blades flashed in every direction, thin and vicious, cutting through shadow walls and blood constructs alike. She scored deep lines across Zane’s ribs and Lucian’s shoulder. One blade nearly took Roland’s arm. The Origin Clan paid for every meter in blood, yet they did not break formation. Daron’s calm voice cut through the chaos with precise adjustments. The line tightened instead of scattering.
The final move began without a signal.
Heron accelerated beyond anything he had shown. His spear became a silver-grey blur that hammered Korrath’s guard from three angles in the space of a heartbeat. Zane slipped through the openings those strikes created, driving concentrated blood-shadow spikes into the deepest existing cracks in the armor. At the same moment Lucian’s domain constricted like a closing fist, crushing space around Korrath’s legs. Anita’s blood tide surged upward and hardened into crimson spears that punched through weakened plates. Mikael’s massive sword came down in a two-handed overhead strike aimed at the same damaged shoulder Heron had already compromised.
Korrath tried to answer with a full termination wave.
He never finished it.
Heron’s spear punched straight through the center of his chest plate. The tip exited between his shoulders in a spray of black fluid and white fire. Zane’s spikes detonated inside the armor an instant later, blowing outward from within. Lucian’s crushing domain locked Korrath’s arms before he could tear the spear free. Anita’s blood spears impaled both thighs and pinned him in place. Mikael’s sword sheared through the already ruined shoulder joint, nearly severing the arm.
Korrath’s roar turned wet.
The massive Reaver staggered. Void-forged armor hung in broken plates, revealing raw, smoking gaps where galaxies once swirled. Black fluid poured freely from the hole in his chest and the ruined shoulder. One arm dangled uselessly. White fire leaked from every wound in sputtering, dying jets. His knees buckled. He dropped to one knee, then caught himself with his remaining hand, fingers cracking the stone. The left side of his faceplate had caved inward; glowing white fluid ran down like blood. Each breath sounded like wet stone grinding together.
Half-dead. Still conscious. Still dangerous.
Selene’s starlight form flickered hard as she carved a path toward him, erasure blades spinning in a desperate defensive storm. The Origin Clan closed ranks immediately, cutting her off from easy access while keeping pressure on the downed Reaver.
Korrath looked up through the ruin of his faceplate. His remaining eye locked on Selene. With a sound like tearing metal he reached into the open cavity of his own chest. Fingers closed around a dense, pulsing core of pure termination energy and white fire—the heart of what he was. He ripped it free.
The act nearly killed him on the spot. His body convulsed. More armor plates fell away. The white fire across his form dimmed to scattered embers.
He forced the core into Selene’s hands when she finally broke through the line for a single moment. His voice came out as a ruined whisper, wet and broken.
"Go. Finish it. Find the real one."
Before she could answer he slammed his remaining fist into the air in front of her. Space tore open in a rough, unstable rift, edges sparking with dying termination energy. Korrath used the last of his strength to shove Selene through the opening. The rift snapped shut behind her an instant later.
He stayed on his knees in the cratered plaza, core removed, armor in ruins, black fluid pooling beneath him. The white fire in the cracks of what remained of his body guttered like a candle in wind.
Heron stepped forward, spear leveled at the exposed cavity. Zane, Lucian, and the rest of the Origin Clan formed a silent ring around the fallen Reaver. No one spoke. The only sound was Korrath’s ragged, failing breaths and the distant crackle of dying energy.
The first of the two hunters had fallen.
A/N
Thanks for reading this far, I know it’s mid, but this is the best I can do with the little time I have.
I Will try in the future to do more better when I have free time.