Luiz’s blue stone flared like a trapped lightning bolt, tearing the air and ripping the group out of the 90th floor. In the blink of an eye, the world shifted.

  The cold, polished floor of the 95th received their bodies as if trying to suck their heat away. The ceiling vanished into darkness, swallowing even the weak torchlight. Black columns, twisted like the ribs of titans, held up the void. There was no sound — only the quickened breathing of each person echoing in the emptiness.

  Valquíria set her hammer on the ground, panting. “That… was close.”

  Lukas scanned the place, the Aegis Invicta steady on his arm. “Don’t relax.”

  A rasping whisper answered, like metal being scratched:

  “I found you… my little runaway mice.”

  The gate they had used popped open by itself, like the mouth of a beast. Anatoly stepped through, dragging claws across the floor. The deep gouges he left behind sounded like drums of war. His pale eyes shone, pupils thin like a predator’s. Black blood still trickled at the corner of his mouth, but the smile… that smile belonged to someone enjoying himself.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “Running away like that… forcing me to hunt…” his voice carried boredom and contempt. “You hide well, but… rats always leave a scent.”

  Luiz spun his spear, trying to hide his nerves. “Rats bite too.”

  Anatoly tilted his head, as if inspecting prey before the kill. “They bite… until someone rips their teeth out.”

  Lukas stepped forward. “It won’t be as easy as you think.”

  “Hm…” Anatoly ran his tongue across his jagged teeth. “That’s exactly what the King of Disasters said you’d say… Fernandes.”

  Silence thickened the air.

  “He said…” Anatoly drew closer. “…that there was someone in this world worth watching. A Desert Lion, a thunder-ghost. I was curious. But when I finally found him… I only saw an old, rusted, tired man, wounded. And even so, I took him down.”

  Valquíria growled, raising her hammer. “Then try to take down someone whole.”

  The air changed. Anatoly moved. Not fast — inevitable. His right claw lunged for Valquíria, who barely managed to raise her defense. The impact cracked the ground beneath her feet.

  Luiz attacked from the flank, but Anatoly twisted and the clawed shield blocked the spear. He pushed Luiz back as if brushing away a twig. Adriele dove low, aiming for his legs, but Anatoly kicked her in the chest, lifting her off the floor.

  The sound of her boots skidding and hitting a pillar echoed through the hall.

  “Weak…” Anatoly muttered as he turned. “Even your scent is weak.”

  Lukas closed the distance; his shield slammed into Anatoly’s chest. The blow forced the man back half a step — only so he could smile wider.

  “Ah… so you inherited his gaze.”

  The group shifted into a semicircle, but Anatoly looked as if he weren’t even breathing hard.

  He raised his claws, black blood dripping like living ink onto the floor. “Let’s play a little… before I tear every one of your hearts o

  ut.”

  The next attack struck like lightning.

  End of chapter