Chapter 153: Chapter 153: The Forbidden Trigger
Chapter 153: The Forbidden Trigger
CRACK!
The sound of shattering bone echoed across the silent plaza.
Tharzek Noctis did not even have time to blink. The sheer kinetic force of Gunther’s heavy gauntlet slammed directly into the Dark Priest’s face.
The impact sounded like a sledgehammer hitting a dry pumpkin.
The ancient priest flew backward. His feet left the ground entirely.
He skipped across the ruined concrete, his tattered robes dragging through the bloody paste left behind by his destroyed monster horde.
He rolled violently before coming to a complete stop near a shattered barricade.
Gunther did not rush. He did not press the advantage with manic desperation. He rolled his broad shoulders and cracked his knuckles.
He walked forward with a rhythmic, confident swagger. His golden eyes gleamed with undeniable authority.
"That punch wasn’t to kill you," Gunther announced loudly, his voice echoing in the dead zone created by the Edict.
"It was to wake you up. I’d hate for you to sleep through the worst beating of your life."
Near the edge of the plaza, the Vanguard Knights watched in pure awe.
They were entirely stripped of their magic by the gray domain, but their Lord Commander was proving he did not need spells to rule the block.
He was dismantling a Level 200 nightmare with his bare hands.
Tharzek scrambled to his knees. His aristocratic pride was completely shattered. His pale face was heavily bruised.
A thick stream of black blood poured from his broken nose. He raised a pale hand, attempting to condense a sphere of corrupted energy to blast the human away.
He was far too slow.
Gunther closed the remaining gap in a single, explosive step. He ducked under the glowing sphere with effortless grace. He planted his back foot and buried a devastating left hook directly into the Elder’s ribs.
SNAP!
Tharzek gasped violently. His ribcage caved inward under the immense physical pressure.
The Dark Priest collapsed onto the concrete, clutching his chest in genuine agony. He wheezed heavily, struggling to pull air into his damaged lungs.
Gunther stood over him. He shook his head in deep disappointment.
"People keep telling me to respect my elders," Gunther sighed, looking down at the coughing priest.
"Then y’all keep showing up looking this disappointing."
Tharzek glared up at the giant. His eyes burned with pure, unadulterated hatred. He spat a mouthful of black blood directly onto Gunther’s polished boot.
Gunther did not flinch. He casually wiped his metal boot against the cracked pavement, cleaning off the gore. He let out a dry, mocking chuckle.
"Damn," Gunther smiled, adjusting the cuffs of his uniform.
"I thought evil was supposed to age like wine. Turns out you just expired."
The Lord Commander raised his right fist. The dense meteorite steel gleamed in the dim light. He prepared to deliver the final, lethal blow to the Elder’s skull. He wanted to finish this fight and go find his traitorous brother.
Tharzek stopped coughing.
A chilling, wet laugh rumbled in the priest’s throat. He slowly wiped the remaining blood from his mouth. He looked up at the raised metal fist, but he did not look scared. He looked deeply, genuinely amused.
"Do you know why I never fear stronger men?" Tharzek whispered, his voice dripping with sinister confidence.
"Because they always mistake intelligence for cowardice."
Gunther narrowed his golden eyes. He threw the heavy punch downward.
Tharzek smiled with his bloody teeth. He spoke a single activation word in the forgotten tongue of the Eclipse.
[Toxin: Widow’s Kiss]
Gunther froze.
His descending metal fist stopped mere inches from the Elder’s face.
A sudden, horrifying spike of cold agony shot through Gunther’s entire nervous system. His raised arm refused to swing downward. The immense physical strength in his dense muscles vanished instantly.
The micro-toxin had been resting quietly in his bloodstream for hours. It was completely untraceable.
It was designed to remain dormant until the host’s heart rate skyrocketed. Gunther had pushed his physical limits to the extreme during his earlier fight with the Null-Fiends.
The elevated blood flow had perfectly circulated the hidden poison into every single nerve ending in his massive body.
Gunther’s knees buckled.
THUD.
The Lord Commander dropped heavily to the concrete.
His golden eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He tried to force his thick arms to move, but his body was completely paralyzed.
His breathing became incredibly shallow. The physical agony was blinding. It felt like liquid nitrogen was being pumped directly through his veins.
Tharzek slowly stood up. He brushed the dust off his tattered robes. He stepped carefully around the paralyzed giant, acting like a scholar examining a fascinating specimen.
"There it is," Tharzek purred, a wicked smile stretching across his bruised face.
"The hesitation in your muscles. Magnificent, isn’t it? Even your own body has chosen my side."
Gunther gritted his teeth. Blood leaked from the corner of his lips. The arrogant hood swagger broke completely under the immense physical agony.
A terrible, crushing realization slammed into his mind.
The Vanguard assassins had not breached his defenses. The Cult had not used a stealth unit to infect him.
The poison had bypassed his natural magical barriers entirely because he had willingly consumed it.
Gunther remembered the quiet moment in the VIP suite just hours ago. He remembered Cassian handing him a glass of vintage wine.
He remembered his younger brother smiling at him, telling him to relax and enjoy the festival.
His own brother had not just opened the city gates. Cassian had personally poured the lethal poison down his throat.
’Cassian,’ Gunther thought.
The physical pain was excruciating, but the emotional heartbreak was infinitely worse.
His brother had sold millions of innocent people to a monster cult just to secure a shiny chair in a glass tower. The betrayal carved a deep, unhealable wound into Gunther’s soul.
At the edge of the ruined plaza, Lieutenant Vance watched the scene unfold in total horror.
"Commander!" Vance screamed, his voice cracking with sheer panic.
The young Vanguard Knight tried to run forward to save his leader. The gray energy of the Edict pushed against him, creating a suffocating gravitational barrier.
The other Knights desperately slammed their dull swords against the unseen wall. They wept openly, realizing they were entirely powerless to break through.
Tharzek Noctis looked at the weeping soldiers. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh.
"Look at your loyal subjects," Tharzek whispered, kneeling down next to Gunther’s paralyzed face.
"They weep for a broken king. You ruled this city with physical might, Gunther Stillbane. But you forgot the most basic rule of warfare. A fortress never falls from the outside."
Gunther could not speak. His vocal cords were locked tight by the Widow’s Kiss. He could only glare at the Dark Priest with fading golden eyes.
"Sleep now, mighty king," Tharzek mocked softly.
"Your brother will be down shortly to claim your crown."
The plaza fell into a dead, horrifying silence.
The undisputed king of Bastion Six was kneeling in the dirt, completely defeated by a coward’s cup. The block had officially fallen.
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