Victory did not bring rest.
The battlefield still reeked of blood and scorched earth when the system notification appeared before Aldwin's eyes. It hovered in translucent blue, cold and impersonal, even as bodies cooled around him.
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Aldwin exhaled slowly.
Three more.
The weight of it settled into his bones. More memories, more instincts, more lives layered atop his own. Power always came with a cost, and he could feel the future pressing closer with every step forward.
"Hatch is down," Corvus said, voice sharp.
Aldwin turned.
Hatch was still standing, but barely. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, blackened veins pulsing beneath torn skin. His axe was buried in the dirt to keep him upright, chest heaving as demonic blood dripped onto the ground.
"They nearly cracked my core," Hatch growled. "Persistent insects."
Flambe lowered his massive head beside him, heat flaring protectively.
"They are not done," Corvus said. "Scouts confirm movement. Heavier signatures. Elders."
Aldwin nodded.
The Blood Demon's Claw sect had lost their vanguard. Now their true strength was coming.
"Tobias," Aldwin called. "Fall back with the civilians. Defensive perimeter only. No heroics."
The man swallowed but nodded, barking orders as survivors withdrew behind reinforced positions.
Aldwin planted the Tidecaller's Staff into the ground.
"We hold here."
The air changed.
Pressure rolled across the ruined western district as figures emerged from the treeline. Unlike the elites before them, these martial artists moved with absolute confidence. Their internal energy was deeper, older, refined through decades of slaughter and cultivation.
Six of them.
Each one an elder.
Their leader stepped forward, robes stained crimson, skin etched with ritual scars.
"So," the elder said calmly. "You are the one who killed our disciples."
Aldwin met his gaze without flinching.
"You invaded my territory," he replied. "You slaughtered civilians. This ends here."
The elder smiled faintly.
"You think yourself a demon king," he said. "But you are only borrowing shadows."
The elders moved.
Corvus took the sky immediately, his wings beating violently as he unleashed compressed wind blades. They did not aim to kill but to disrupt, carving up the battlefield and forcing the elders to scatter.
Flambe surged forward, fire blooming outward in controlled waves that forced the elders to dodge rather than advance. The salamander planted himself between Hatch and the incoming enemies, roaring as flames wreathed his body.
"Stay alive," Flambe rumbled.
Hatch laughed weakly.
"No promises."
An elder slipped through the flames.
Flambe intercepted, claws colliding with reinforced limbs. The impact cracked stone beneath their feet. The elder was thrown back, but another replaced him instantly, striking Flambe's flank with a ki charged spear hand that tore through scales.
Flambe roared in pain but did not retreat.
Corvus dove, talons ripping across the elder's back, pulling him off balance just long enough for Flambe to incinerate him in a burst of white hot fire.
The battlefield fractured into chaos.
Aldwin stood at the center.
Within him, Mulligan stirred.
"Do not rush," Mulligan said. "Synchronize. Let the mana breathe."
Aldwin closed his eyes for half a second.
Mana flowed.
Not wildly. Not explosively.
Controlled.
He felt Mulligan's presence align with his own, spell frameworks snapping into place faster than before. Water gathered, not just around him but within the air itself, responding to his will instinctively.
An elder broke through the perimeter.
His strike came fast, a precise thrust aimed at Aldwin's heart. The barrier shattered on impact, shards of mana dispersing violently.
Aldwin did not step back.
Instead, his stance shifted.
The world tilted.
Verakul answered.
The transformation was not dramatic, but it was absolute. Muscles tightened. Bones reinforced. His heartbeat deepened, resonating with monstrous rhythm. Scales rippled faintly beneath his skin as regeneration surged to life.
The elder's follow up strike landed.
And did nothing.
Aldwin grabbed the man by the face.
The elder's eyes widened in shock.
"This is impossible," he gasped.
Aldwin slammed him into the ground hard enough to crater stone. He did not release his grip. Mana and internal energy twisted together as Aldwin drove his fist down again and again, each blow collapsing defenses, crushing bones, erasing technique with raw, overwhelming force.
The elder stopped moving.
Aldwin stood, blood steaming off his knuckles.
Another elder charged, blade singing through the air.
Aldwin met him head on.
They exchanged blows at close range. Ki blades carved into Aldwin's flesh only to knit closed instantly. Aldwin countered with brutal efficiency, every strike guided by Verakul's instinctive mastery of combat and physiology.
He shattered knees.
Crushed ribs.
Ripped the weapon from the elder's grasp and impaled him with it.
Mulligan flowed back into alignment seamlessly as Aldwin stepped away, switching again to spellcasting without hesitation.
Water surged upward, freezing midair as Aldwin compressed it into razor sharp constructs. The remaining elders found themselves fighting on multiple fronts, Corvus harrying them from above, Flambe burning away their escape routes, Aldwin dismantling their formations piece by piece.
Hatch forced himself back into the fight, dragging his axe up with a snarl.
"I am not done yet," he growled.
An elder lunged for him.
Corvus intercepted, slamming into the martial artist midair and driving him into Flambe's waiting flames.
The last elder stood alone.
He looked around at the devastation, at the demons that guarded their injured brother with absolute loyalty, at the man who shifted between mage and monster without pause.
Fear finally cracked his composure.
"This sect will not fall," he said. "Others will come."
Aldwin raised his staff.
"They will die too."
The water answered.
When the battlefield finally fell silent, Aldwin stood among the fallen elders, chest rising steadily. His mana reserves were strained but stable. His synchronization with Mulligan and Verakul felt natural now, like switching grips on a familiar weapon.
Corvus landed beside him.
"Hatch will recover," he said. "Barely."
Flambe lowered his head in relief.
Aldwin looked west, toward the lands claimed by false demons.
"Send word," Aldwin said quietly. "This town stands under my rule."
The Blood Demon's Claws had come to dominate.
Instead, they had been broken.
And Aldwin Everett had taken another step toward becoming something far more dangerous than any of them had imagined.