Return of the Tower Conqueror

Chapter 377

When the Star Fell (VII)

U’nul moved abruptly, as was the norm of the battle thus far. Wrapped in fire, she appeared some ten feet away from the tanking frontline and swung the scythe in a wide berth, flames engulfing the world around it. Chriss stepped forward and summoned a shield that barely managed to break the scythe’s momentum before he was tossed backward like a ragdoll. Still, it afforded enough time for Emma and Kramer to shuffle away and for the entire raid to reposition.

Skills began to land at a more reasonable rate, Emma noted—though it had to do a lot with the raid’s growing accuracy, it seemed similarly that U’nul’s movements, while much quicker and more agile than before, weren’t as erratic—it was as though she was once again being bound by some strange law that she could not contend against.

Flames continued to erupt, though not just from her weapon and not just temporarily. She would open up a seeming gash in the arena that would bleed fire afterwards, limiting the scope of the fight. It made things much harder, especially for melee fighters as they had to be extra careful when retreating not to accidentally walk into a wall or pool of flames.

The rhythm was repeatedly established and broken; she would abruptly switch the timing of her attacks, she would stack spells so frequently that, on occasion, nobody would be able to land a single hit for long stretches of time. Within half an hour of the fight, Mana pools were already getting dangerously low even with all the conservatorship and U’nul hadn’t yet hit even 50%, though she was just a few percentages off.

Senna was panting heavily, and though the physical exhaustion was extensive, it was still incomparable to the mental one. She had to keep a keen eye on every inch of the arena, on the boss, and every raid member. She couldn’t simply be reactive—she had to predict the potential targets and already be ready for when the boss attacked. Additionally, as melee fighters burned through their movement skills, she was their safety net—they dared jump in for an attack or two because they relied on her being behind them, ready with her flying blades to usher them to safety.

It was much easier, she realized, simply tossing attacks at a target with little rhyme and reason than it was to be conscious of every single detail of the fight. Though she had done it before, specifically in this arena, the fight itself was never this intense. There were no moments when she could simply pause and take a breath—U’nul was unrelenting, and save for the brief transition between the phases at 70%, she never stopped attacking. While the tanks took the brunt of the damage, it was quite deceptive, in fact.

Most of the damage she, and others surrounding her, took was in the passive remnants of her many skills. Though they didn’t take all that much upfront, over time, they burned. This made it much harder on healers as the drop was barely noticeable in the heat of the moment. Before long, however, there’d be healers crying out when they see someone with less than 30% health in the raid.

“ADJUST TO THE LEFT!! QUICK!!” she had undertaken another job at the same time—that of raid leading. Considering that she was barely hanging on her dear life, Emma was in no position to actually lead outside occasionally giving signals to Senna. In the meantime, the latter had to guide the entire group and ensure they survived. The mental hurdle was quite magnified, but she endured—largely because of the urgency of it all.

While most were likely in the dark, some must have figured out the same thing she did—seeing how Jamal and Daniel were practically living an inch away from death the entire fight, risking everything just to get another strike in, and how desperately Yuki tried to keep up with them, and how hard Emma and Kramer struggled to keep the boss at bay… those lights in the day sky likely spurred them, too.

They didn’t know what they were or what they represented, but they knew that they wouldn’t be there without a reason. And the urgency by which they were told to head back inside and not come out until the boss was defeated… something was happening.

As such, they fought much harder than the last attempt. There were few times anyone took a break, and while Senna technically commanded the raid overall, others stepped in to help, too. Yuki practically guided healers and the supportive, range types all by himself, while Jamal and Daniel mostly led by example in when to jump and attack U’nul for the melee classes.

U’nul swung her scythe aggressively as she hit 50% health. The scythe went a full circle around her and ejected balls and bolts of fire in all directions. It rained flames across the entire arena, forcing the raid group to cradle together under the umbrella protection of Kramer and Chriss. In the meantime, the only one directly in the path of flames was Emma who was swinging her warhammer with zealous want, replenishing as much health as she lost.

The whirlpool of fire kept extending further and further out as a glottal roar blew through the entire arena, shaking it. Soon enough, the entirety of the round land was consumed in red-white flames, though they didn’t hurt. Rather, they felt eerily soothing, like a kiss of peace before death.

Emma retreated and corralled others into a crescent-shape, with Chriss and Kramer protecting two edges and her at the center. All the while, U’nul continued to burn until her figure had morphed into something… inhuman. She was a shape, a white frame of edges and blurs, with no discernable features past her eyes.

The pair of them was shockingly black, with a singular spec of light harrowingly burning within. She hovered a few inches from the surface, her entire body consumed in flames, though they stuck out from the surrounding fire considerably. Just like her, they were white with a twine of gold within them, barely noticeable.

She no longer held the scythe—it hovered behind her, its double-edged blade framing her figure on both ends like wings. It seemed to be crying as it shook relentlessly, bleeding out liquid fire in the process, pouring it over her. She shrunk considerably to barely six feet, shorter than a good chunk of people in the raid. And yet, the energy she exuded left everyone mortified and speechless.

They would lose and they would die—they had no doubt about it. What they were facing wasn’t human, wasn’t even a monster, but rather a thing, an amalgamation of things beyond comprehension. Beyond just the appearance, she seemed to have the gravitas of her own—as they all felt the pull akin to that of a vacuum trying to drag them toward her.

A bulb lit up in Senna’s head as she recalled the title—Star of Hegon. She, at least in part, was a star, a literal star.

The pair of black eyes stared at the raid group emotionlessly. It felt as though the eyes of a god were judging them and examining them. They felt bare naked before the gaze, as though no armor or magic would be enough to shield them. Nothing could be hidden—not their desires, not their fears, not their wants, loves, hates. They were newborn babes that could not lie or hide.

“Ordinarily, the purging process would be the song of celebration,” her voice was morphed beyond notice. Or, rather, it wasn’t a voice—they all heard their own voices speak inside their minds. She conjured thoughts in all of them reflective of how they all thought themselves. It was bizarre, it was terrifying, it was blood-freezing. All they could do was stand in awe and terror. “Washing away the basis of inferiority, becoming more. A cause for triumph and jubilance. There is no time, however, to guide you lambs to the gifts of fire. You have fought valiantly and put your lives on the line well enough. There will be cracks, but they will not be unmendable. A word of warning is due—do not resist the flames. The more you resist, the more it will hurt, and the more will they want to burn your will, your essence.

“These are the purest flames to have ever existed,” she said, lifting her left arm and extending it forward, conjuring a tiny twinge of milk-white fire above. “They are neither hot nor cold, dead nor alive. They are the genesis of stars—and they represent the purity of nature. They wish not to harm you—just devour all that is impure. Do not resist them. This is your one chance to be purged, a chance that will never arrive again. Accept it with arms wide open and let the fires find your heart. That is the only way you can help him and save yourselves.”

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