The world narrowed to chaos.
Skyling's cry cut through the roar of the Poring King—then went silent. Eliakim spun just in time to see her small form tumble to the ground, feathers dulled and trembling. Gideon, half-lycan strength spent, collapsed to one knee before the creature's molten-frost limb slammed into his chest, sending him skidding across the scorched ice.
Ezra, still frozen in that strange trance, barely had time to look up before a second strike smashed into her side, flinging her limp body into the snow-blackened ash.
And just like that—Eliakim was alone.
The Poring King loomed over him, its entire mass pulsing with the unstable fusion of frost and flame. Every second, its size seemed to grow—more heat, more ice, more weight pressing on the world.
Eliakim's breathing was ragged. His dagger felt like a toothpick against the mountain of corrupted jelly. But then—
A faint tug.
Not physical, but in the marrow of his bones. A thread, invisible yet unshakable, pulsed between his chest and the creature's core. His eyes flicked down to his right hand.
The middle finger chain—the Heart of Kalrion—was glowing faintly.
Eliakim's instincts took over. He stretched his right arm forward, letting the chain unravel and swing downward. It didn't fall straight—it slid along the air, like a pendulum guided by a will not his own. The tip touched the ground, then snaked forward across frost and flame, sliding up the Poring King's surface… and vanished inside.
In the darkness beyond, someone stirred.
A voice echoed faintly—not aloud, but inside his skull."You can hear me…" The hooded man. His tone was faint, strained, but undeniably there.
Eliakim tightened his grip on the chain. "We don't have long. Tell me how to kill it."
A pause—then the hooded man's voice came again, almost reciting."The Codex of Imreth… it says: Strike the shell and the heart together. One blow. One breath."
Eliakim's mind raced. "So you hit it from inside, I'll hit it from out. Same point, same second."
"…Agreed."
The bond tightened, and suddenly Eliakim could feel the hooded man's position—buried deep in the molten-frost chaos, whip in hand.
They counted together—not aloud, but through that strange tether.
Three… two… one…
Eliakim lunged forward, his boots slipping on ice before catching purchase on scorched earth. His dagger flared with the faint golden warmth of the Aetherwell Bloom. At the same instant, deep within the monster, the hooded man coiled his thorn whip, every thorn burning with both ice-crystal and ember-ash energy.
And together—
They struck.
The dagger pierced from outside at the exact spot the whip lashed from within. The moment the two met at the core, a sound like shattering glass mixed with a roar of steam tore through the battlefield.
The Poring King convulsed, its colossal mass rippling violently before bursting apart—splitting into thousands of tiny porings, each bouncing harmlessly to the ground before scattering into the plains.
The rift's wild aura thinned. The frost receded. The heat bled away.
Eliakim fell to one knee, chest heaving. The hooded man lay sprawled on the ground a few feet away, unconscious but alive.
Gideon stirred first, groaning as he pushed himself upright. "Ugh… did we win?"
Before Eliakim could answer, something in the center of the battlefield caught Gideon's eye—a stone, half blue like frozen sapphire, half red like molten ruby, fused seamlessly together. It pulsed faintly, almost… reaching toward him.
Gideon stepped forward. The moment his fingers brushed it, the stone's light flared—casting long, unnatural shadows across the quiet plains.
Ezra coughed weakly, still regaining her bearings. Skyling hopped into Eliakim's lap, nuzzling his chest.
Eliakim's gaze remained on the strange glow. "That's… not just a stone."
The ground beneath them trembled, faint at first—then stronger. Something was still awake beneath the plains.