The silence after Búdica’s death lasted less than a second.

  “Luiz!” Lukas was already at his brother’s side, gladius in hand, Caesar vibrating on his forearm as if he too felt rage.

  “I know, kid.” Luiz wiped the blood of the she-wolf from his face. “No jokes today.”

  His Crimson Aura flared like living fire, rising in flames from the ground to his shoulders.

  At his side, Lukas took a deep breath and let Morgana’s shadows coil around his legs and arms. They burned and froze at the same time—proof that she was there, pouring her strength straight into him.

  Above, Morgana shut her eyes to focus the flow. The King of Disasters couldn’t sense what she was doing if she kept the spell as a whisper, not a scream.

  Maugrim laughed, the sound echoing through the hall.

  “Two warriors… sharing the prey. I want to see who dies first.”

  He came.

  He didn’t run like a beast; he moved like a phantom, each step leaving deep cracks in the stone. The Claws of Eternal Hunger sparked against the air, cutting even the echo.

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  The first clash was brutal.

  Lukas raised his shield—Caesar roared inside his mind:

  “Left, boy! He’ll try to break your guard to open your flank!”

  Lukas shifted at the last instant, the claws scraping his helm and tearing a piece away.

  Luiz seized the opening, spinning his body, crimson spear cleaving down.

  The strike buried into Maugrim’s shoulder, tearing through fur and bone until it hit solid resistance.

  The werewolf didn’t scream—he grinned.

  “Hot.”

  With a spinning backhand, he slammed Luiz with the flat of his claw, hurling the warrior ten meters, smashing two columns. Luiz rolled, coughing blood, but stood again with a bloody grin.

  “You think you’re the only one who can take a hit, mutt?”

  Lukas charged from the flank, shadow and light alternating along his blades.

  The left gladius cut through the air, the right followed in a deadly rhythm. Maugrim blocked with his forearm and countered, but the next slash came too fast.

  Morgana’s shadows made Lukas’ blades seem to vanish only to reappear in another point—like a ghost slipping through space.

  And still, Maugrim was laughing.

  “You smell… like warriors who haven’t killed enough yet…” He licked the blood dripping from his mouth. “I want to see you bleed until you’re empty.”

  In the back, Leli, even lying wounded, began to channel a barrier spell to cover them.

  But when the energy touched Maugrim, it dissolved like smoke.

  “Impossible…” she whispered.

  Valquíria, hammer resting on her shoulder, took one step forward.

  “Then let’s set it to HARD mode again.”

  End of chapter 21