Worse yet, this sudden loss of power was precisely what the Chaos Lich had been counting on. Recognizing the dark elf's dwindling strength, she intensified her attacks with ruthless efficiency, unleashing a faster, more violent volley of chaos fire. The barrage forced KO to work twice as hard just to stay alive, straining his exhausted muscle and bone to the absolute limit even as his internal energy drained away.
He had no idea how he was supposed to survive if this relentless assault continued, nor did he possess a viable plan to end the Chaos Lich's tyranny—let alone rescue the rest of the exiles. KO had always been the unyielding pillar for his teammates, the sharp edge and reliable blade they relied on in impossible battles.
But now, battered and bleeding out on the cold granite, it was painfully clear that he desperately needed someone to be a pillar for him. His footing slipped on his own slick blood as another fiery detonation shattered the stone beside him, sending a fresh wave of concussive force tearing through his bleeding wounds.
His vision darkened, his breath coming in ragged, suffocating gasps as the terrible truth settled in: without immediate intervention, his next dodge could undoubtedly be his last.
The two exiles still fighting on the open plateau were accounted for, but a sudden, icy wave of dread washed over Willow as her memory sparked.
She vividly recalled three distinct skeletal Liches approaching their position before she had bolted for the shadow of the mountain crags. Yet, scanning the carnage below, she could only identify two active threats: the gargantuan, undulating form of the centipede-lich that had transformed to crush Eric, and the Chaos Lich hurling white-hot fireballs at KO.
The third master of the undead was nowhere to be seen on the front line.
Willow's pulse hammered in her ears as her eyes frantically scanned the barren rocky terrain. A Lich capable of shapeshifting into a monstrous horror was terrifying, and a master of volatile elemental arcana was devastating, but an unseen, unaccounted-for soul being was infinitely worse.
What strange, insidious abilities did this third monster possess? Was it lurking in the shadows preparing a lethal ambush, or weaving an invisible, wide-scale curse designed to snuff out their very souls without ever striking a direct physical blow?
Willow had begun to suspect the third lich possessed the ability to turn invisible, as she hadn't detected its presence since creeping back to spy on the battlefield. Her frantic gaze darted across the scarred terrain until a bizarre anomaly caught her eye: a loose, jagged stone rolling unnaturally across the flat rock, bumping persistently against an unseen obstacle—or perhaps a cloaked person.
The strange, predatory distortion in the air slowly drew nearer, rippling the light like a heat mirage over the cold granite.
It wasn't until the shimmering silhouette advanced a few paces closer that the optical illusion finally shattered.
A cold sweat broke out across the back of Willow's neck as the sinister camouflage dissolved, allowing her to finally recognize the horrifying, battered figure that the rolling stone—and the invisible stalker guiding it—was relentlessly chasing down.
It was Bark. Yet compared to KO and Eric, Bark was doing a truly terrible job at staying alive.
Speed had never been Bark's gift; the only attribute he possessed worthy of anyone's attention was his sturdiness. His thick, calcified skin made him nearly impervious to physical harm, second only to the solid granite beneath their boots. Under normal circumstances, blades bounced off his hide, and blunt blows shattered against his bone.
However, as Willow watched him frantically stumble backward, fleeing from the stone that rolled with a sinister mind of its own, he didn't seem sturdy at all.
Bark was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving like a broken bellows as he desperately tried to put distance between himself and the relentless object.
The rolling rock wasn't just following him; it was accelerating, picking up unnatural momentum and adjusting its trajectory with unnatural precision whenever Bark tried to veer away.
The third Lich was playing a twisted game, seemingly using invisible telekinetic tethering to herd the slow, defensive warrior into a death trap.
Every frantic step Bark took eroded his remaining strength, transforming their most durable defender into a panicked, exhausted target just seconds away from being crushed.
Deep stretch marks, rippled flesh, and raw, bleeding gashes covered Bark's frame, looking as though he had been strung skin-deep by a vicious rope of thorns that had dug violently into his meat.
His body was a gruesome map of torn skin, clearly marking where the telekinetically propelled stone had repeatedly slammed into him like a localized hurricane, aiming to shatter his bones into a million pieces or grind him into a bloody paste.
Yet Bark was extraordinarily sturdy. Through sheer, stubborn resilience, his dense physiology kept him together, refusing to give in to such a harrowing force.
However, watching him take blow after crushing blow, Willow was painfully sure Bark could not keep up with the dangerous strategy he had created. Bending his body to such a torturous sacrifice over and over again was never going to save him; it was merely a slow, agonizing prelude to a faster death.
Every devastating impact sent a fresh wave of bone-deep fractures through his calcified hide, steadily weakening his legendary immunity. The third Lich was systematically dismantling their toughest defender, turning Bark's absolute reliance on endurance into the very trap that would kill him.
The rolling stone suddenly launched upward into the grey sky, hovering for a terrifying second at the apex of its arc before plunging straight toward Bark. Utilizing the full acceleration of gravity to multiply the devastating force of its descent, the massive, dense boulder dropped like a falling meteor.
The five exiles remaining on the ruined battlefield—KO, Eric, Sheila, Young and Willow—all stopped, their lungs locking as they watched with bated breath. Even from her perch, Willow felt her chest tighten in agonizing suspense. They were all sickeningly certain that this brutally weighted strike was going to be the absolute end of their resilient friend, companion, brother, and teammate.
The rock came crashing down in an abrupt, violent motion, moving far too fast for any of the exiles gathered on the battleground to assess the situation and devise a rescue plan.
Eric was hopelessly trapped in his own nightmare against the transformed centipede-lich. Mangled, bleeding, and failing miserably just to stay alive, he had neither the space nor the breath to intervene.
KO's plight was equally desperate; though his flesh wasn't shredded like Eric's, his body was a brutal mosaic of blisters, open gashes, and blackened scorch marks. Unable to engage in a direct struggle, KO had relied on a hit-and-run strategy against the Chaos Lich, but as his vital blood spilled onto the granite, his dulled senses and failing strength had forced him into a purely defensive retreat.
Both warriors were completely locked in their own hopeless battles, utterly helpless to stop the heavy boulder from crushing Bark into the mountain stone.