The Rebirth Of The Beast Tamer

The cavern was consumed in fire. The blast slammed into the dome like a tidal wave against a cliff. Energy rippled outward, the barrier flaring a brilliant blue-white.

For an instant, it seemed unbreakable, then cracks shot through it in every direction. Shards of glowing light burst off like shattered glass.

Darius screamed as the feedback ripped through his body. Blood sprayed from his lips, his veins was bulging as the gems in his hands cracked under the strain.

Rhoam roared in answer, throwing his armored body against the barrier to brace it. The massive panther dug his claws into the ground, growling as necrotic flames licked across his back. Plates of his thick armor glowed red-hot, one cracking down the middle.

The Alpha pressed on with the attack. It surged forward, slamming its talons against the barrier. The dome was shattered and shards of sealing energy was exploding outward. Darius staggered back, although his breath was a bloody rasp.

The beast saw its opening. With a terrifying speed, it leapt and slammed both claws down upon Rhoam. The cavern floor cracked, while sending tremors across the ground.

Rhoam's body was strained under the crushing force. His armored plates shrieked as they split, and his howl of pain echoed through the cavern like a dying bell.

"RHOAM!" Darius shouted, diving forward. He pressed the sealing gems against the Alpha's claws, while trying to inquire about its weight away.

For a moment, the claws was hesitated and then the Alpha flexed with a violent jerk, swiping Darius aside like an insect.

His body was slammed into the cavern wall with a sickening crack. He slid down in a heap, while coughing blood. His hands twitched as he tried to rise, but his body refused.

Kelvin's pulse kept hammering in his ears. He could feel Xerion's fury burning down their bond, a tidal wave of rage and flame that threatened to consume them both. The End-Tyrant's instincts screamed louder than reason, and Kelvin had no choice but to give in.

Xerion lunged. The serpentine dragon spiraled forward, with black fire blazing along his jaws. He slammed into the Alpha's side with the force of a landslide, and the teeth sinked into its rotted neck.

The End-Tyrant's coils wrapped around its limbs, constricting like chains of living flame.Flames erupted from the wound.

Necrotic ichor boiled, spilling down the Alpha's chest and hissing against the stone floor. The beast shrieked, with ribs flaring wider, but Xerion held on, with wings spread wide as his coils were tightened.

Kelvin staggered forward, channeling mana into their bond until his veins felt like molten chains. His vision was blurred at the edges, but his grip on the spear was never loosened.

But we will burn together… or die together. He raised his spear overhead. Black fire licked along its blade, casting his shadow long against the cavern wall. He aimed for the Alpha's glowing chest, the furnace within its ribs.

The beast twisted and slammed its skull sideways, crushing Xerion against the cavern wall. The impact shook the chamber, stone collapsed from the ceiling in heavy slabs.

Xerion hissed in agony, the sound was tearing down the bond like a fire poured into Kelvin's lungs. Kelvin dropped to his knees, with blood spraying from his mouth. His body convulsed and muscles locking as the backlash surged through him.

The Alpha staggered forward, ribs blazing brighter, every breath was a furnace wind. And then, it pressed its hind claws harder onto Rhoam's body.

The armored panther roared in agony. Plates splintered and snapped, shards of black armor was flying across the cavern. His muscles trembled under the weight, bones creaking as if they might snap at any moment.

The Alpha loomed over them, it's body was inflamed with necrotic fire and breath filled the cavern with ash and death. Every move it made felt inevitable, unstoppable. And the Crest were bleeding, staggering, broken and were standing on the edge of annihilation.

The silence after the fall of Alpha the Elite Shambler was thick enough to be choked on. Kelvin didn't relax, he knew better.

The Necrotic Forest was not a place that ended things cleanly, it twisted survival into a prolonged torment. Even in death, the Elite's putrid body smoldered with necrotic fumes, feeding the roots that drank hungrily from its decay.

Kelvin's hand lingered on his blade, wiping the black ichor away with a rag. The cloth hissed as though it burned, then shriveled into dust. He did not flinch, but his grip on the sword hilt was tightened. Every object here, even the soil seemed hostile to the living.

Beside him, Xerion coiled low, his scales were faintly illuminated in rippling violet patterns. The serpent's eyes glowed gold in the dark, pupils were narrowed to razors. He didn't need to speak. Kelvin could feel his partner's restlessness in the tether of their bond: sharp, hot and impatient.

They are not done and not yet. Kelvin's instincts also screamed in agreement. He raised his gaze to the shifting wall of trees. The forest seemed to breathe, trunks were swaying though there was no wind.

And then, it was faintly at first, he heard it: the crunch of bone against bark, the scraping of claws dragging across stone. The sound grew, building into a chorus of groans and shuffling feet.

"They are coming," Kelvin whispered. Immediately he noticed that the forest has vomited forth its next wave. They emerged not in chaos this time but in grim order, and Kelvin's stomach twisted at the sight.

Armored ghouls trampled out first with shields cobbled together from rusted plates and splintered doors. Their weapons were slabs of iron that is more than blades, it swung with bone-snapping weight.

Behind them staggered skeletal archers, their bows were strung with sinew, arrows that were tipped with shards of pulsing black bone.

And they were towering over them, half-hidden in the trees, lumbered something worse, a grotesque abomination that was stitched from dozens of corpses.

Its chest swelled unnaturally and it that seams splitting with every ragged breath, and a low bubbling groan that leaked from its cavernous throat, a horde with hierarchy.

Kelvin's pulse was quickened. This was not a random spawning. Something was guiding them and molding the horde into a weapon. "Xerion," he muttered, with his eyes never leaving the oncoming tide. "This forest doesn't just want to kill us. It wants to break us first."

The serpent hissed, while his scales was rippling with violet sparks. His body was tensed like a bowstring that was ready to snap.

The ghouls charged first, while it's shields was locking with a hollow clang. The ground shook beneath their march, the sound was like a drumbeat of war. Kelvin sprinted to meet them and Xerion moved alongside.

The first clash was thunderous. A ghoul's blade came down with a jagged slab that would have crushed his skull. Kelvin slipped under it and blade was flashing upward in a clean arc.

Steel split rotten jawbone, spraying dark ichor as the ghoul toppled. Another swung wide. Kelvin rolled, letting the strike gouge into the soil, then drove his sword into the gap in its armor.

Xerion moved beneath shields, coiling suddenly around a ghoul's legs. His muscles constricted and bones cracked with sickening snaps.

Venom dripped from his fangs as he struck at exposed throats, each bite was turning armor into little more than a coffin. But for every ghoul they destroyed, more pressed forward, shields were rattling and weapons were swinging.

Then came the archers, a volley of black arrows that screamed through the air. Kelvin's gut clenched. He raised his arm, with runes on his vambrace flaring alive.

A translucent ward shimmered, catching the first impacts. The arrows exploded into splinters of necrotic energy and sparks were spraying across his face.

"Move!" he barked. Xerion lashed his tail around Kelvin's waist, yanking him sideways just as another volley shredded the air where they had stood. The arrows pierced through roots and stone, leaving trails of hissing corruption behind.

Kelvin's boots hit the ground hard, but he didn't pause. He sprinted straight into the skeletal line, with blade spinning in a blur of steel. Ribs were cracked and spines shattered. He ducked, parried, slashed, never stopping long enough for the archers to draw a bead on him.

Xerion crashed through their ranks like a thunderbolt that was whipping his tail in wide arcs that scattered bones. His fangs glowed with venom, each bite was melting away through a bone like acid. Together, they carved a line through the center, with thinning the swarm.

And that is when an abomination roared. The sound was inhuman, gurgling, like a drowning man that was forced to scream. Its chest bulged angrily, then was split open along stitched seams.

From the cavity was poured half-formed horrors of skeletal crawlers with too many limbs, jawless heads that was gnashing blindly and wailing tender bone that dragged themselves forward on fractured arms.