Red's jaws opened wide, and the crimson energy building along his spines finally released.
A beam of concentrated red energy screamed toward Wolfen—a lance of destruction that would have vaporized anything in its path. Wolfen's hands came up, Umbralite flowing from his palms, forming a massive shield that embedded itself in the sand.
The beam hit.
The force was catastrophic. Wolfen and his shield flew backward together, skidding across the beach, tearing a trench through the sand before finally stopping near Zoey. Smoke rose from the shield's surface. Wolfen's arms trembled.
Lily watched from the shoreline, her expression unreadable. She looked at Red, then back at Wolfen.
"Don't kill him," she said quietly. "But don't go easy on him either."
Red's massive head turned toward her. Understanding flickered in those ancient eyes. Then he pulled himself fully from the water—one hundred feet of armored nightmare rising to its full height—and began to walk toward Wolfen.
Behind Lily, the ground dissolved.
Black liquid bubbled up from the sand, spreading in a perfect circle around her and Tusk. They sank into it without resistance, disappearing into the shadow.
They emerged in the ocean.
The water was deep here, far from shore. Lily sat atop Marine Gharsuchus, its twenty-foot crocodilian body cutting through the waves with ease. Beside her, Mary's humanoid torso rose from the water, her golden eyes fixed on the distant beach. And around them, the rest of the squad surfaced on the backs of massive saltwater crocodile creatures—each one nearly fifty feet long, their ancient eyes watching the battle with cold interest.
Kael's voice carried across the water, frustration evident even through his controlled tone. "What are you planning, Lily?"
Lily didn't look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the distant figures on the beach—tiny specks against the sand, locked in combat with her monsters.
"Observation."
Mary moved closer to her queen, her voice low. "Isn't it dangerous to just let Red fight alone? He could get injured."
Lily's lips curved slightly. "I want to see what Zoey and Wolfen's abilities are. Fully." A pause. "And then I'll send the others."
---
On the beach, Wolfen launched himself at Red.
His fist connected with the massive creature's head—a blow that would have shattered concrete—and Red barely flinched. Wolfen followed up immediately, a massive fireball forming in his palm and detonating directly against Red's skull.
BOOM.
Red staggered. Smoke rose from his armored hide.
Zoey rose into the air, psychokinesis lifting her above the battlefield. Behind her, entire trees uprooted themselves from the forest, hurtling toward Red with devastating force. They slammed into him one after another, driving him back.
Wolfen hit him with a beam of concentrated fire.
Red roared. His own beam fired back—that crimson lance of destruction—catching Wolfen mid-attack and sending him flying.
Black liquid appeared on the beach.
From the shadows, they emerged.
Sentinel. Fifty-two feet of armored dragon-beast, its red and green scales gleaming, its massive tail sweeping the sand.
King. The Rotting King, fifteen feet of undead hunger, its broken teeth dripping acid.
The Bulls. Crimson-Maned Void Bull and Striped Thunderhorn Aurochs, their massive forms pawing the ground, ready to charge.
Voltic Wyvern. Electric blue and purple, lightning crackling along its wings.
Red turned and plunged into the ocean, leaving a trail of blood on the surface. He was wounded—bleeding from多处 where Wolfen's attacks had found gaps in his armor.
"Red's beam is effective at long range," Mary observed quietly. "He can destroy large structures, entire facilities. But in close combat... he's at a disadvantage with someone like Wolfen."
Lily nodded slowly. "You're right."
---
Sentinel's tail came down like a meteor.
Wolfen caught it.
His hands wrapped around that massive appendage, his muscles straining, veins bulging against his skin. He spun—using all his strength, all his centuries of combat knowledge—and hurled Sentinel through the air like a toy. The massive creature crashed into King, both of them tumbling across the beach in a tangle of scales and undead flesh.
The Bulls attacked from both sides.
Wolfen caught them.
One hand on each massive head, he stopped their charge cold. They pushed against him, their hooves digging trenches in the sand, but he held. Then fire erupted from his palms.
The Bulls burned.
Their roars of agony filled the air—high, terrible sounds of pure, white-hot pain. Their hides blackened. Their flesh sizzled. They collapsed to the ground, still burning, still screaming.
Lily's face went pale.
The screams carried across the water, faint but unmistakable. The Bulls were dying. Burning alive.
The smell reached them—charred flesh and burning hair, carried on the wind like a message.
King went berserk.
Acid sprayed from its rotting maw, forcing Wolfen to dodge, to weave, to stay mobile. He threw fire in return, keeping the undead creature at bay. Lightning struck from above—Voltic Wyvern's attack—and Wolfen rolled aside just in time.
He came up under King's jaw and punched.
The sound was sickening. King's jaw split—cracked down the middle, hanging at an unnatural angle. The creature stumbled, roared, fell.
Zoey was holding Sentinel at bay with sheer telekinetic force, but the creature was stronger than it looked. It pushed against her power, slowly, inexorably.
Wolfen hurled fireballs at it. Sentinel blocked with its armored forearm, advancing.
Black liquid appeared again.
This time it consumed everything—the wounded monsters, the dying Bulls, the battlefield itself. When it receded, only Sentinel remained, standing alone on the blood-soaked sand.
Wolfen looked up.
Lily was moving away across the ocean, her silhouette shrinking against the horizon. And on her face—even from this distance, even through the spray and the light—he saw it.
A smile.
Not a warm smile. Not a victorious smile. Something else. Something that made his blood run cold.
It was the smile of someone who had just figured out how to make everything fall into place.
Wolfen knew that smile.
He'd worn it himself, more times than he could count.
Lily had gotten what she came for. Not victory. Not capture.
Information.
And now she knew exactly how to use it.