NOVEL NEXT Chapter 39: Into the Breach
Scene 1 – Crossing the Breach
The gap in the Storm Wall hissed like a wound in the sky.
Bolts of lightning skittered over its jagged edges, crawling along the invisible surface before leaping outward with sharp, snapping cracks. Each strike left a faint ozone tang in the air, burning Jemil's nostrils.
He slowed his pace as he approached, boots sinking slightly into the waterlogged ground. The puddles at his feet rippled, but not from the rain — the air itself seemed to pulse, a heartbeat that wasn't his.
Kaela stepped up beside him, her crimson hair plastered to her cheek. She twirled her blade once, the motion fluid even under the weight of her armor. "Once we step through, we're in their territory," she said without looking at him.
"I'm counting on it," Jemil replied.
On his other side, Mirella adjusted the leather straps across her chest, her expression sharp and calculating. Behind them, Liora kept her bow half-raised, the blackwood shaft steady despite the faint tremor in the ground. Even her arrows looked like they were holding their breath.
Then they crossed.
It wasn't like stepping through air — it was like passing through cold smoke, a wall of frost that clung to their skin and left their hair damp. Jemil's vision dimmed for half a second, colors leeching out until the world beyond the breach looked pale, drained, wrong.
The rain here was lighter, more of a drifting mist. The wind was slower, heavier, as if the air carried weight.
And the silence…
Not peaceful. Not empty.
The kind of silence that clings to your throat and makes you turn around, certain something is behind you.
Jemil's hand stayed on his sword hilt.
He didn't draw it yet. But every muscle in his body was coiled, ready.
Scene 2 – The Silent Settlement
The mist clung low as Jemil and his companions moved forward. The outline of the village emerged slowly, like an old memory surfacing through a dream.
Thirty… maybe forty houses, all clustered around a central square. Their thatched roofs sagged under the constant damp. Wooden doors hung ajar, creaking gently as they swung in the breeze. Some shutters were missing entirely; others banged softly against their frames with each gust.
The mud in the streets was churned — but not by recent rain. The grooves were deep, wide, as if something heavy had been dragged across again and again.
Kaela's boots splashed in a shallow puddle. The sound seemed loud here, too loud, echoing faintly as though the air itself was hollow. She scanned the rooftops, knuckles whitening on her blade.
No torchlight burned in the streets.
No candle glow leaked from the windows.
And worst of all — no voices. Not the faintest sign of life.
At the center of the square stood a massive brazier, taller than Jemil, wrought of black iron twisted into spiraling, thorn-like shapes. Its flames burned a cold, ghostly blue, flickering without smoke or heat.
Jemil stepped closer. The fire painted his skin in pale light, erasing all warmth from his reflection in Mirella's watchful eyes.
Liora knelt near a patch of churned mud, fingers brushing over a deep indentation. "Tracks," she whispered. Her voice barely carried in the stillness. "Three toes. Each print the size of my hand. They're heavy — whatever left these was… big."
Kaela moved closer, eyes narrowing. "Dragged something?"
Liora's gaze flicked up, serious. "Dragged someone."
Jemil didn't answer. His focus was locked on the brazier's base. Symbols wound around it in jagged, curling lines. They weren't carved — they looked as though they had been burned into the metal itself.
Mirella stepped beside him, her breath slow and deliberate. "These marks… they're wrong."
"They're alive," Jemil said quietly. He didn't mean it as poetry. The symbols were shifting, twisting, as though reacting to his presence.
Almost without realizing it, his hand reached out. His fingertips brushed the cold metal—
And the blue flames surged upward like a living thing.
Scene 3 – The Stranger Appears
The blue fire's sudden flare bathed the square in ghostlight, sending long, jagged shadows racing across the walls of the abandoned houses.
Jemil's hand snapped back from the brazier, and for a moment he thought he saw something moving in the flames — a silhouette writhing, its edges dissolving into flickers of light.
The mist stirred.
From between two crooked buildings, a figure emerged.
Tall. Hooded. Every movement deliberate. His cloak trailed along the wet ground, absorbing the dirt, the edges frayed and torn as if he had walked for centuries without stopping. The hood cast his face in darkness, but the glint of two silver eyes pierced through the shadow.
Kaela instantly stepped in front of Jemil, blade drawn, her stance sharp as a blade itself. "Identify yourself."
The stranger ignored her. His gaze — cold, weighty — settled directly on Jemil.
"You've opened it," he said, voice low, as if speaking hurt him. The words carried no echo, yet somehow filled the square.
Jemil didn't move. "Opened what?"
The stranger tilted his head slightly, the gesture almost pitying. "The Guardian was never a protector… it was a lock."
At those words, the blue flames roared higher, their light flickering violently as if the brazier itself had understood.
Liora's bowstring tightened, the arrow aimed squarely at his chest. "You're saying we just broke something we shouldn't have touched?"
"You didn't break it," the man said slowly, his silver eyes never blinking. "You freed it."
Mirella took a step closer, her voice tight. "It?"
The stranger didn't answer. His gaze flicked past them — over Jemil's shoulder.
And then the ground began to shake.
Scene 4 – The Creatures Awaken
The tremor started as a low, distant hum — like the slow grind of ancient gears turning somewhere beneath their feet.
Then it grew.
The cobblestone street cracked, sending splinters of stone shooting upward. The blue flames of the brazier twisted and whipped in a frenzy, casting the square into a strobe of ghostlight and shadow.
Kaela widened her stance, her sword flashing with reflected blue as she scanned the rooftops.
Liora turned in a slow circle, bow ready, her breath steady but her eyes alert.
Mirella murmured a quiet incantation under her breath, her fingers weaving patterns in the air that glowed faint gold against the mist.
From the darkness beyond the square came the sound.
Not footsteps. Not claws.
It was… a dragging, scraping scrrrk, followed by a wet, rattling hiss.
The stranger remained utterly still, watching. "They have smelled your fire."
Shapes moved in the mist — at first only vague, writhing outlines. Then, as they drew closer, the details sharpened.
They were tall, but their bodies were twisted, hunched, their limbs far too long for their frames. Skin pale and stretched thin over bones, pulsing faintly with veins of light that matched the brazier's ghostly blue. Their eyes glowed the same unnatural color, locked hungrily onto the group.
The first creature let out a hiss that made the air vibrate, and dozens more answered from the shadows. The rooftops creaked under their weight as some scuttled above. Others crept from alleys, their clawed fingers gouging the walls.
Kaela exhaled sharply. "Tell me you've got a plan."
Jemil smirked — the kind of smirk that said he was about to do something reckless. "Yeah," he said, rolling his shoulders, the faint glow of his own aura sparking to life around him.
The nearest creature lunged —
And Jemil stepped forward to meet it head-on.
[To be continued…]
🔥 Next Time on God level summoner … 🔥
The creatures are fast — faster than anything Jemil's fought before.
But speed alone won't save them from him.
As blue fire rains across the square and the wives unleash their true power, the hooded stranger makes his move…
And a name is whispered that shakes even Jemil's unshakable confidence.
⚡ Chapter 40 – "The First Hunt" ⚡
They came for prey.
They'll leave as corpses.
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