GOD-LEVEL SUMMONER: My Wives Are Mythical Beast

Scene 1 – The Predator Descends

The storm exploded.

Where once lightning had divided the battlefield, now it fell indiscriminately, tearing through stone, shattering towers, igniting the air with fire and ozone.

And through it all, the Herald came down.

No longer stalking. No longer circling.

It pounced.

Jemil barely raised his blade before the first strike landed. Claws like black lightning slammed into steel, the impact rattling through his bones. He was hurled backward, boots carving trenches in the shattered ground.

Across the storm, the swordmaster cried out, her own katana flashing to intercept the second strike aimed for her heart. Sparks bled into arcs of lightning as steel shrieked against claw. She twisted, parried, countered—but the Herald didn't relent.

Every motion was faster. Stronger.

The predator wasn't playing anymore.

"Stay with me!" Jemil roared, lunging forward to rejoin her. The Mark in his chest burned, guiding his strikes, pulling him into rhythm with the predator's speed. His blade sang, carving through the storm.

And for a moment—it worked. He and the swordmaster fought side by side, their blades overlapping in a dance of steel and thunder. Strike and parry, slash and thrust, each of them covering the other's opening.

But the Herald's laughter cut through the clash.

Better. Much better. But tell me… how long before you slip? How long before instinct devours trust?

The Mark flared. Jemil's vision blurred at the edges, every movement of the predator before him glowing in uncanny detail. He saw the Herald's strike before it landed, and his body moved in perfect response—faster than his own thought.

Steel met claw.

Lightning met shadow.

And the swordmaster froze, just for a fraction of a second—because Jemil's strike hadn't just matched the Herald's. It had mirrored it.

Her heart clenched.

The predator was no longer fighting alone.

Scene 2 – The Swordmaster's Doubt

The storm raged with relentless fury, but something else stirred beneath the swordmaster's calm facade—a flicker of fear.

Every strike from the Herald wasn't just fast—it was predictive. It moved with Jemil's instinct, mimicking his rhythm, amplifying his power, and twisting it back at them. Each block she made was heavier, each parry more exhausting.

Her chest heaved. Sweat and rain plastered her hair to her face. She had trained for every duel imaginable, mastered every form, yet none had prepared her for this: fighting alongside a version of her husband that the storm itself was controlling.

She glanced at Jemil, sword raised, eyes locked on the Herald. His movements were precise, flawless—but too perfect. The Mark pulsing in his chest glowed like a warning.

"Jemil… are you… okay?" she gasped, ducking a slash that could have cleaved her in half.

Jemil's voice came, steady, but strained: "I'm fine. Focus on me. Focus on us. Don't—don't let it break you."

But the predator wasn't waiting. It lunged again, faster than she could follow. Her blade caught it, sparks flying, but the impact shoved her back into the edge of the battlefield. Lightning danced along her sword as she forced herself to remain standing, breath ragged.

He's moving like the Herald wants him to, she realized. I can feel it in every strike. If I falter… he'll follow instinct, not me.

Her hands shook, fingers tightening around the hilt. Her mind screamed for control—but doubt seeped in, slicing through her confidence like a hidden blade.

And then the Herald grinned, eyes glowing like molten metal.

Ah… the first cracks. She trusts him… yet fears what he could become. How long before the predator wins?

The swordmaster's stomach churned. Her eyes flicked to Jemil, who was charging again, his blade singing, every motion almost too perfect. The Mark pulsed hotter. Sparks danced across his armor, and for the first time, she felt a pang of fear not for herself, but for him.

Her voice wavered as she called out:

"Jemil… don't let it take you!"

He caught her words mid-lunge, jaw tightening. "I won't. Not ever. Not while I can still stand with you!"

For a brief heartbeat, their blades moved in perfect sync again, a bond stronger than fear, stronger than the storm.

But beyond them, the Herald's laughter rolled like thunder—knowing, patient, and hungry.

Time is short. One falter… and the hunt begins in earnest.

Scene 3 – Predator's Strike

The storm reached its peak, a whirlwind of lightning, wind, and fire that tore across the battlefield like a living thing.

The Herald crouched low, muscles coiled like springs. Its eyes, blazing with both intelligence and hunger, locked onto Jemil and the swordmaster.

Then it struck.

Not with claws. Not with brute force.

With precision.

Lightning surged from the tips of its elongated fingers, splitting the ground, carving paths of fire and energy toward them. Jemil lunged forward to intercept, blade slicing through one arc—but another seared past, singing his armor and burning the stone beneath.

The swordmaster moved to flank him, katana blazing, parrying another strike—but the Herald anticipated her, vanishing into shadow and reappearing behind her, fangs snapping inches from her neck.

Her scream was cut short as Jemil surged, striking with a combination of flame and shadow, his blade connecting with the creature's flank. Sparks rained, and the Herald stumbled—but it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

The Mark flared violently against Jemil's chest, every pulse urging him to strike harder, faster, to abandon restraint and give in to the predator's instinct. His vision blurred, body moving almost of its own accord. The swordmaster's voice broke through the haze:

"Jemil! Don't let it consume you!"

He inhaled sharply, gripping his blade tighter. Not consume me. Not while she stands beside me.

The Herald roared, a sound that split the storm itself. With a leap that defied gravity, it launched into the air, claws extended, electricity crackling along its form. It descended upon them in a deadly arc, faster than thought, faster than breath.

The swordmaster braced herself, feet rooted, eyes narrowed. Jemil mirrored her stance, their movements in perfect unison. For a moment, the world slowed: wind froze, lightning hung in the air, and time seemed to wait.

Then the Herald landed.

Claws, steel, flame, and shadow collided. The force sent shockwaves across the battlefield, throwing them both back. Rocks shattered. Lightning screamed. The storm itself seemed to recoil at the fury unleashed.

But in the chaos, a single truth remained:

They were still standing.

Side by side.

And the predator realized something too late—this hunt would not end easily.

The storm screamed. Lightning struck endlessly, hammering the battlefield with relentless fury.

Jemil and the swordmaster staggered, bodies scorched, breaths ragged. Yet they stood—side by side. The Herald hovered, claws crackling, eyes blazing, realizing the fight wasn't as simple as it anticipated.

The Mark pulsed violently on Jemil's chest, whispering for him to surrender to the predator within. But he gritted his teeth, glancing at the swordmaster. Her eyes met his—fierce, resolute, unwilling to falter despite fear.

The predator snarled, shifting between forms, claws slashing at the air as if testing its own limits. It had underestimated them. It had counted on doubt, on hesitation, on faltering bonds. And yet here they were, still standing.

"Together," Jemil gasped, gripping his blade.

"Always," she replied, raising her katana.

The Herald's grin widened. Interesting… very interesting. Its claws dug into the ground, lightning cracking around its form. So be it. The real hunt begins.

The storm intensified, swallowing the battlefield. Winds howled, lightning speared, and shadows deepened.

They weren't just fighting for survival anymore—they were fighting for each other.

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Next Chapter Preview – Chapter 53: Heart of the Storm

The Herald abandons all subtlety. No more games. Every strike is lethal, every attack designed to test their limits and fracture their bond.

Jemil must face the growing power of the Mark while keeping his mind and soul anchored to the swordmaster beside him. One misstep could mean the predator wins—claiming him, destroying their bond, and leaving nothing but ruin in the storm.

And in the eye of the storm, truth will be revealed: the Tower doesn't just test strength—it tests the heart.

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🔥 Call to Action: The hunt is only beginning. Will Jemil and his swordmaster wife survive the predator's full assault? Or will the storm claim them both? Stay with God-Level Summoner and witness the heart of the storm in Chapter 53: Heart of the Storm!