CHAPTER 1471: THE EXTRACTION PLAN III

From the settling dust emerged a monstrous silhouette. Its body was sheathed in cracked bark that split with every move, glowing embers burning deep within hollow sockets where eyes should be. When its jaw opened, a jagged maw of uneven fangs jutted outward, strands of resin dripping like thick, black blood.

Despite its half-decayed, wooden husk, it bore rusted steel armor strapped haphazardly across its form, and in its clawed hand it gripped an ancient sword pitted with age.

It moved with feral violence, every step uncoiled like a beast, every swing of its blade savage enough to rattle bone.

Jack hurled himself forward, his sword flashing as he met the creature’s strike head-on. Steel screamed against steel. The monster roared, a sound so raw it rattled lungs, then surged forward with brute force, hurling Jack back like a ragdoll. Its rusted blade swung downward, eager to cleave him in two.

At the dire moment, Owen’s gunfire burst through the night, each shot sparking off bark and rust. The monster reeled, snarling, attention snapping to the shooter. It lunged with murderous intent.

"Owen!"

Daniel dove in, slamming into his brother just in time. The two of them rolled hard across the dirt as the creature’s sword split the ground where they had stood.

Lloyd’s blood ran cold, but he didn’t hesitate. "Now!"

He and the Noxcra agents struck in unison, blades flashing and energy crackling, their movement was sharp, swift, and in sync. Soon, sparks spat into the night, shards of bark and splatters of resin spraying with every clash.

The monster fought back with savage, unhinged strength, each swing of its rusted blade heavy enough to send shockwaves through the air.

Then came a deep vibration rolling from the quiet gates, splitting the stone stairs with a thunderous crack. The ground buckled beneath them, quaking as if some ancient beast was tearing its way free.

Jay felt a powerful presence come at them at high speed as well. Jay looked at his people battling the creature, and his expression hardened. Then, without hesitation, Jay sprinted forward with calm, unwavered resolve.

He launched skyward, his silhouette framed against the moonlight. Lightning arced along his arms, crawling onto the blade in his grasp until it blazed like a spear of living storm. Then he took a swift dive and thrust his sword into the ground with a sound like the sky itself splitting apart.

Jagged veins of electricity raced outward in every direction, tearing across the battlefield, crackling through dirt and rock. The shockwave ripped into the ground-creature that turned out to be a thick, giant root.

The root jolting it with blinding force. With a guttural roar, colossal tree-roots exploded from the soil, thrashing wildly as they burst into the open air. Jay didn’t waste a breath.

In one fluid motion, he drew his guns and opened fire, bullets sparking and tearing into the writhing wood. Resin sprayed like blood.

Seeing the moment without being told, Owen took position beside Jay and then rained down the giant roots in a relentless barrage, shredding bark and splinter. Jay cut him a quick glance, a flash of appreciation tugging at his mouth.

Daniel didn’t want to be left out; he imbued his power to his twin blades. Soon, their edges rimed with frost. He then make a quick slash outward. Power surging through his blade, and a torrent of ice bloomed across the massive roots. Half the writhing mass froze solid in an instant.

Their combined firepower hammered the frozen surface. The roots shattered under the assault, breaking apart in an explosion of shards that glittered in the moonlight before crashing down like glass.

The creature, locked in a vicious struggle with Garrof and the others, suddenly stiffened. Its ember eyes flared wider as it sensed something, then it saw the massive roots it had summoned blasted apart into splinters.

A guttural snarl rattled from its chest before it erupted in fury. Its body swelled grotesquely, bark-like skin splitting and stretching as it grew to three times its former size.

With a thunderous roar, it shook the air itself.

"Sh*t, it got bigger!" Garrof barked.

"Fall back—erect a barrier!" Lloyd snapped.

Their training took over. In unison, energy flared, shields snapping into existence. Right at that moment, the creature released a shockwave like a hurricane blast.

The surge of force hurled Garrof and the others like dry leaves in a storm. They rolled across the ground, bruised and battered but alive, thanks only to their hastily raised barriers.

Jay narrowed his eyes. Realization struck him like a blade of lightning. "Use binding spells! Hold that thing down!" he roared.

A second later, voices chanted at once. Sigils flared on the ground, and glowing chains of arcane light surged upward, coiling around the monster’s legs, arms, and waist.

The bindings constricted with a hiss of energy. The beast thrashed, bellowing in rage, but the combined strength of so many Gifted forced it to its knees.

But only for a moment, cause it didn’t take long before a faint crack appeared across the luminous chains. They wouldn’t last.

"Everyone—retreat! As far as you can!" Jay’s command thundered over the battlefield.

Trusting their commander, they scattered back the way they had come, vanishing into the dark road in hurried strides. Meanwhile, the steel gate doors before them groaned open wider, as if something massive was about to emerge once again.

Jay remained where he stood. He closed his eyes, drawing in a long, steady breath. Beneath him, the soil split as a vast rune circle flared into existence, carved from light itself. Symbols and intricate letters spiraled outward, glowing with an ominous purple radiance.

He raised his voice in a solemn chant. "O King of Lucient, head my words, please lend me your power."

The rune circle blazed brighter, searing against the darkness, until the world itself seemed to hold its breath. Then—

An explosion of light and power erupted.

___________________________________________

In the quiet of his study room, Lucas’s eyes snapped open. For a long second, he simply sat there, staring blankly at the shelves lined with books before him. The silence pressed in around him.

Then, with sudden urgency, he reached for the phone lying on the table. His thumb hovered for only a heartbeat before he pressed the call button and raised it to his ear, waiting anxiously.

Not long after, a flat, mechanical female voice answered:

"Sorry. The number you’ve been calling has been cut off. Please try again."

The words struck like a blade. Lucas’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he lowered the phone. His hand clenched around it, knuckles pale, before he muttered under his breath: "...Jay."

A knock came at the door. Moments later, Fredhardt entered, pausing at the sight of Lucas’s grim expression.

"What’s wrong, Your Majesty?" he asked.

Lucas was silent at first, his brows knitted tightly together. It took a while before he finally spoke.

"Jay... borrowed my power. Something must have happened to him."

Fredhardt’s expression darkened. As Archknights, they were entrusted with the rare ability to draw upon a portion of the Lucient’s power, but only in dire circumstances. Therefore, for Jay to invoke it now... something really bad must have happened.

Fredhardt turned back to Lucas. "Can you sense his condition?"

Lucas exhaled heavily, running a hand across his brow. His voice was low, edged with strain.

"I’m not certain... but he’s still alive." Lucas takes a deep breath.

Fredhardt sighed, "Then don’t think too much, trust him, he must be fine."

Lucas rubbed his face, trying to ease his anxiety. "I know..." he muttered, rising from his chair. His gaze drifted toward the window.

Lucas saw a thermal airship soaring majestically across the sky, its brass fittings flashing in the sunlight. Airplanes swooped and circled overhead, leaving behind trails of glittering, colorful dust that twinkled like fireworks in broad daylight.

He turned around, then grabbed the remote, and switched on the television. The screen flared to life, showing the same streets from above: crowds dancing in waves of color, vendors handing out snacks wrapped in bright paper, children tugging at kites strung with threads that caught the light like molten silver.

The reporter’s voice carried a practiced cheer as he narrated the scene, the unity, the spectacle, the joy that painted the city in brilliance. The camera swept to a grand float rolling down the avenue, its golden ornaments dazzling as performers showered the crowd with confetti, the flakes cascading like rainbow snow.

Then the feed shifted, focusing on Alinna’s radiant face. She stood on a grand hotel balcony draped with silken banners, her figure framed by the sunlight.

She smiled beautifully, lifting her hand in a graceful wave toward the camera. The crowd below erupted with cheers, their voices rising like a tide at the mere sight of her.

Beside her stood Alexander Behrenn, calm and composed, offering a gentle smile of his own. The world seemed to lean into their presence, as though the festival itself revolved around them.

"They’re finally here," Lucas muttered.

"Uh-huh," Fredhardt answers nonchalantly.