chapter 48 nolan.
"Thought you'd never ask. Zack's Laser gun!" Zack shouted. As if in response to his call, his silver space ring shimmered and his laser gun materialized in his grasp. But the device wasn't quite as Robert and Oliver remembered it—this one had clearly undergone a serious upgrade. Instead of the single barrel it once had, the laser gun Zack held now was fitted with three sleek laser barrels arranged in a triangular formation. It was also significantly bulkier and larger—so much so that Zack could no longer wield it comfortably with just his hands. He had to cradle it under his armpit like a hefty piece of military gear.
Without wasting a second, Zack squeezed the trigger.
Three searing blue beams of concentrated energy erupted from the barrels, cutting through the air and slamming into the wolf's flank with a sharp hiss. The impact sent a shudder through the beast's muscular frame, provoking a bloodthirsty roar and a charging attack. The other teens immediately sprang into action, firing spells at the Blood wolf to divert it's attention away from Zack and protect him from its oncoming assault.
The group's strategy was simple and straightforward. Without needing to exchange a single word, they had noticed that the wolf lashed out at whoever struck it last, and its confusion grew as it struggled to target multiple attackers simultaneously. Robert capitalized on this weakness and ordered the group to spread out and assault the beast from all sides.
They unleashed a dynamic onslaught of various elemental spells from every angle, each spell leaving trails of magic particles in their wake. Among the barrage, Oliver and Robert's spells stood out both in power and spectacle; Earth spikes erupting violent bursts from the ground, jabbing at the wolf's underbelly. Ice spears and Earth daggers sliced through the air like bullets, many shattering against the wolf's hide and a few barely piercing. Jagged Earth rods aimed for its snarling face. Heavy compacted balls of ice pounded it's body. A Boulder sent it staggering sideways with terrifying impact. Hand of God spells gripped it's legs and slammed against it's body. Freeze claps, Earth locks, Ice thorns, all concentrated on the Roaring Blood Basterath wolf, each attack razing down nearby vegetation, dispelling the mist, and gradually transforming the area into an open, battered clearing. Zack's bombs and intense beams from his laser gun equally assaulted the creature, lighting up the area with bright flashes of light. It was a relentless barrage from all sides. A full-on siege.
Each time the wolf charged at one of them, the others would immediately launch their most powerful spells, forcing the wolf to pause and redirect its attention, buying precious time for the targeted person to quickly reposition. The tactic worked well to frustrate and disorient the beast.
Yet, a bitter reality laid beneath the strategy's effectiveness—for all the offensive spells, for all their effort, the beast appeared largely unharmed. It was as if their spells were doing barely more than slowing it down and irritating it. The wolf's thick fur and hide, as well as it's sheer physical durability, made sure that none of their attacks were inflicting serious damage. At best, they were stalling, stalling to delay an inevitable outcome they were all well aware of.
After five gruelling minutes of nonstop assault—dodging, casting, and flanking the beast from every direction—the group was on the brink of exhaustion. Zack's laser gun had whittled down to its last energy, his bombs all used up. Both Cindy and the boy were panting raggedly, barely able to stand as they hovered precariously close to magic exhaustion. Oliver and Robert, though still casting, had pushed themselves to their mental brink; their minds were nearing fatigue and struggled to keep up with the demands of their sustained spellcasting. Their spells had become less fluid, slower, and more forced.
While they—Robert and Oliver—had access to a vast reserve of magic energy when using their Ancestor soul's powers, their minds could barely keep pace with the raw magical demand. Spellcasting, by it's nature, placed a heavy strain on a wizard's cognitive faculties. As Common wizards, Oliver and Robert had minds trained and naturally accustomed to the mental exertions of casting Common level spells within their specific ranks. However, the Mystic-level magic they could access through their Ancestor souls pushed their mental strength beyond it's natural threshold. The complexity and power of Mystic spells required far more focus, precision and endurance, exceeding what their brains were equipped to handle, making the boys very prone to mental fatigue when using their Ancestor soul's powers to cast spells. Even if Poison and Xolomon were to take over—which they had acknowledged was not an option—the boys' current state of mental strain would be insufficient to maintain the magic output needed to sustain their elemental forms and their magic usage.
They were reaching their breaking point, but the beast was still very much standing. Time was of the essence, and they needed a new approach, fast, before they all succumbed to the mounting fatigue.
"This creature isn't even phased by our attacks at all," the boy said anxiously as he kept close to Robert, who was visibly straining to hold the wolf down with a Magnified Gravity spell. "It's a miracle no one's been killed yet. And I hate to state the obvious, but just incase it hasn't fully sunk in, we are in very serious trouble."
"All thanks to you, buddy!" came Robert's sharp retort, his brows furrowed in exertion.
"Uhh..." the boy clearly did not expect the jab. He glanced over at the other three, who were each engaged in desperate attempts to keep the creature disoriented with their attacks.
Robert gritted his teeth, forcing more magic energy into the ground beneath the Basterath wolf, halting it's aggressive charge towards Cindy, who was visibly winded and struggling. "I'm out of ideas," Robert growled between clenched teeth, his head turning slight to the boy beside him. "We can't kill this creature, and it's not gonna rest till we're all dead. We need a game changer or we're certainly done for... I mean, you and that red-haired girl are done for!"
Almost as soon as Robert finished speaking, Zack's voice suddenly rang out across the grounds. "Did anyone say game changer?!" He called theatrically. "Been waiting to hear someone ask!" He was moving towards Robert and the boy now, weaving past destroyed vegetations and Oliver's Ice spells with an exaggerated grin plastered on his face. As if for the fun of it, he hurled a green metal ball at the wolf's legs. The bomb donated with a wet splatter, releasing a sticky green-grey substance that clung to the beast's hind legs and anchored them to the ground. But the wolf broke free with minimal struggle.
The boy cast Zack a disdainful glance as he reached them—He's just an ordinary person, unremarkable and certainly someone who did not belonged in a conversation about game changing. "Bold words from someone who's clearly not a wizard," he sneered.
"Who said anything about using magic?" Zack said coolly, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of his space ring, before muttering under his breath, "Might have to scratch that later."
The boy eyed Zack with a mix of confusion, exhilaration, and who-the-hell-do-you-think-you-are. "You're planning to use what, then? That drained-out laser blaster of yours? A stick? That twig lying over there?!"
Zack simply chuckled, choosing not to dignify the boy's mockery with a response. At that moment, he heard Robert remark, "I wouldn't underestimate him if I were you."
The boy scoffed, but before he could say anything in retort, Robert cut him off as he conjured a hefty chunk of rock and sent it rocketing towards the wolf like a cannon ball. The rock struck the beast's head with a crushing impact, forcing it to stumble and snarl in fury, successfully drawing it's attention to Robert and the two behind him. Oliver immediately followed up with an Ice bullets spell, unleashing a rapid barrage of sharp-tipped ice shards which hammered against the beast's body like hailstones in a storm.
The boy returned his gaze to Zack, sizing him up again, this time wondering what the hell gave the blonde guy his confidence. He radiated no magic aura. Nothing about him suggested he was more than ordinary. As far as the boy could tell, Zack was just a regular person armed with some flashy magic-powered gadgets. That was it!
The boy huffed. "If you actually manage to do anything remotely useful in this fight, Blondie, I swear I'll find the nearest swamp and drown myself in it."
Zack's lips curled into a smirk. "You'd better remember that," he said, just as a silver pulse of light flickered from his space ring.
Meanwhile, still enduring the barrage of spells from Robert and Oliver, the Blood Basterath wolf suddenly snapped it's head in a new direction. It's horrific white-veined eyes locked onto Cindy; one of the pesky miniature creatures pelting it with spells, but this one had a striking, vivid red hair. She appeared less threatening than the others, and that's what captured it's attention—her faltering presence. She was no longer casting spells, and her posture had slumped and breath sounded shallow. She looked drained... vulnerable.
The wolf felt it's instincts flare up. Easy prey!
With a savage roar, the beast lunged forward, charging under the pressure of Robert's subsequent Hand of God spell and the pelting of Oliver's spiked Ice balls, all its focus fixed on Cindy.
Instantly realizing she was the wolf's sole target, Cyntara, with no time to panic or even run, immediately directed her remaining magic energy into her hands. Her fingers glowed a faint crimson as she swiftly activated a Blood Metamorphosis spell. In effect, her fingernails elongated in a flash, transforming into vicious, metallic looking claws, and as the Blood Basterath wolf's massive skull reached and crashed into her with a jarring bump, she slashed forward with all her might. Her claws raked across the beast's snout as she was hurled backward, tearing into its tough hide and leaving a deep bloody gash along it's muzzle. Red droplets sprayed in the air as the creature recoiled with a roar of rage and pain.
However, the blow from the wolf's head was brutal. The sheer force of the impact hurled Cindy backwards through the air like a ragdoll. When she landed—hard, the momentum sent her tumbling violently out of the clearing and into the dense shrubs beyond.
Oliver's heart leapt into his throat. "Cindy!" He cried, and without a second thought, he abandoned all spellcasting and bolted straight past the wolf after Cindy as she vanished into the foliage. The wolf roared and gave chase, but Oliver quickly thrust his hands backward and conjured a thick, solid wall of ice behind himself, effectively blocking the beast's path. The wall materialized just in time—the wolf, caught off guard by the spell and unable to halt its momentum, crashed headfirst into it at full speed, sending ice shards exploding in all directions like glass. The collision dazed the beast and slowed it down for a moment, but Oliver did not stop, and the Basterath wolf didn't either. The beast regained it's footing and renewed it's chase, only to find another Ice wall materializing ahead.
Again and again, it repeated the process with Oliver several times as he continued summoning successive Ice walls which the beast smashed through, each one stalling its advance just long enough to gain Oliver a bit of distance. The creature's frustration grew with every impact, it's growl echoing back to the clearing.
Still, Oliver never looked back. His only focus was reaching Cindy.
Eventually, after crashing through seven thick walls of ice, the Roaring Blood Basterath wolf skidded to a halt before yet another. It gave a low, guttural snarl, one that cracked with both fury and irritation. As it stood there, it's breath steaming in the cool air, the beast seemed to have decided that the chase was no longer worth the effort. It motionlessly watched Oliver disappear beyond the clearing into the woods, and it let out a wrathful growl, it's bloodied snout twitching. With a sharp snort, the beast turned away and redirected its rage back toward the clearing once more as it stalked back.
The wolf's massive paws crushed the already ravaged vegetation beneath them, each step sending faint tremors rippling through the ground as it approached. As it emerged into the clearing, it came to a sudden halt. It's eyes were fixed on the trio that remained; Robert, Zack, and the boy, and they were staring back.
For a breathless moment, the entire world seemed to pause. The air hung thick with heavy tension.
Silence reigned, broken only by the faint rustle of disturbed leafs. Then, the Blood wolf's sinew frame tensed, muscles coiling like drawn wires. It's jaws parted, and a deep rumbled began vibrating in its throat as it prepared to unleash yet another thunderous roar and resume attacking, but then...
There was no then.
Just kidding.
Then, a deep, heavy thump rocked the ground.
The boy flinched instinctively. Robert's eyes widened. They both turned to look, and when they did so, both their faces shared the same expression—utter awe.
From Zack's shimmering space ring, something huge surged into view—it was tall, towering over the clearing and casting a long, vast, and oppressive shadow. What stood before them was a collosal, armored machine. It had arms like battering rams, and stood firmly on wide, large mechanical legs. It had a presence so dominating it seemed to absorb the very light around it. The machine's enormity rivaled that of the Roaring Blood Basterath wolf. It was imposingly huge. Robert had no time to view the machine properly, as he promptly recalled the problem at hand and quickly directed a Magnified Gravity spell at the area where the wolf stood to prevent it from coming any closer.
Zack, however, did not mind the wolf. Infact, the look on his face made it absolutely clear that nothing else existed for him in that moment besides what he was gazing at—his glorious, astounding, breathtakingly magnificent beauty of a mech! That wasn't just a machine to him; it was a work of art. A dream made metal and motion! He walked up to it with slow, reverent steps—each one measured and theatrical, brimming with a mix of excitement, love, and sheer pride. His smile wasn't merely on his lips; it seemed to radiate from his entire being. In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the magic beast nearby, not the danger of battle, not even the silence and tension in the air. Just him and his masterpiece.
The boy's eyes and jaw were wide in total astonishment as he broke the silence, staring up at the machine. "W-whe-where did he... where did he get that from?!" He was clearly utterly stunned.
Less surprised but equally impressed, Robert, continued channeling brown magic energy into the ground to prevent the beast from moving towards them. "Built it himself," he quipped.
"He built that?!" The boy exclaimed, pointing, eyes widening further.
"Down to the last bolt," Robert added with a proud grin. "All in one night."
The boy blinked in stunned silence. He struggled to comprehend the feat. "That's... ridiculously unbelievable! Completely impossible! I mean, just calibrating the magic nodes on a machine like this would be too overwhelming for a technologist twice his age... not to mention the elemental crystal energy converters, the magic energy conductors, the runic encodings systems, th-the whole thing!" He paused to catch his breath. "And that size—gods, he's using a S.T.A.G for control, isn't he?" He glanced at Robert, whose raised eyebrows betrayed cluelessness. "A Spatial Thought and Gesture detector—hyper-advanced magic control interface that responds to mental commands. That's borderline military-grade magic tech!"
Robert offered a half-shrug, a subtle gesture of admiration. Of course, he had no concept of the magic-tech jargon the boy just spewed but, damn, military-grade? That sounded topnotch! He gave the large machine another quick glance, as if seeing it in a new, more formidable light.
The boy went on. "If you understand anything about magic technology, you'd realize how absurd it is. There is absolutely no way he built that thing alone... in one night! Just drafting the schematics for a machine like that would take a Senior technologist the better part of a year. And constructing it? That's not something you can just slap together in a backyard shed. It would require a specialized lab, with full access to components you can't just find on the market, and a whole team of very experienced magic technologists working around the clock." He pointed emphatically at the mech. "That's no ordinary school project made of paper and glue. That... that monster is a product of master-tier magic engineering!"
Robert simply chuckled, clearly entertained by the boy's disbelief. "Yeah, try telling him that." There wasn't a shred of doubt in Robert's mind, not when it came to Zack's ability. Come on, it's Zack we're talking about. Annoying and downright insane in almost every way imaginable except when it came to magic technology. In that realm, he was completely unpredictable. He had a habit of pulling off the unexpected, as if surprising everyone was just part of his natural rhythm. If there was one thing Robert has learned about Zack over the two weeks he'd known him, it was to never underestimate him, or try to predict what he would do next. The boy was a walking surprise bag.
Zack finally tore his admiring gaze away from the machine and turned dramatically to face Robert and the boy, still basking in the presence of his creation. "Behold," he declared with a smug grin, "Robert and... you, my soon-to-be drowned friend. What you're seeing now is my opus major, my masterpiece, my darling!"
The machine loomed over them, an imposing fifteen-foot-tall humanoid construct. Its overall structure resembled that of a powerfully built robotic giant, with disproportionately thick limbs that mimicked the muscular proportions of a heavily armoured warrior. It's arms and legs were forged in heavy segments, with each joint reinforced for durability and brute strength rather than agility, emphasizing raw power. Atop it's thick shoulders sat a head made from a pale matte alloy that gave a dull shimmer under sunlight. Running across it's face was a narrow horizontal strip of faintly glowing, brown-gold material—most likely functioning as the machine's visual sensor. Besides the head, the machine's entire body was wrapped in a heavy shell of sleek, overlapping, silver-toned plates that added bulk to it's frame, giving it a clunky but undeniably intimidating and powerful appearance.
With a smooth metallic whine, a hatch slid open, revealing a hollow entryway at the machine's back. Zack climbed in immediately, and the hatch closed up.
Inside, Zack was met by a compact control chamber lit by a soft, ambient, green glow, where a network of intricate metallic extensions—thin, jointed arms ending with flat disc-like sensors, were all around him. As soon as Zack adjusted into the center of the chamber, a metallic apparatus extended forward seamlessly behind him. It reached out and wrapped around his torso and shoulder in a harness-like grip, and subtly lifted him a few inches off the floor. Then, the thin robotic extensions slowly reached out and gently attached themselves firmly to strategic parts of Zack arms, chest, back of palms, and legs, apparently syncing him with the machine.
"Alright, let's get this started." With those words, the machine surged to life with a deep, barely audible hum. The metallic extensions fully secured themselves to Zack's body with a series of smooth, coordinated movements. The machin