The Stalker barely has time to react. It sidesteps — but the enhanced speed catches it mid-motion. The blazing spear punches through its side, searing flesh and igniting black ichor in a flash of crackling embers. The Stalker howls as flames erupt along its torso, licking up its arm and chest.
"You...!" it snarls, staggering back.
Alix doesn’t hesitate. With both Tier 5 Umbral Stalkers weakened, this is his chance. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a dark metal bracer etched with glowing crimson runes — The Shacklebind Cuff. The runes pulse faintly, eager to activate.
"Grixx!" Alix shouts, tossing the bracer toward him. "Pin yours down — now!"
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Grixx, locked in a brutal exchange with his opponent, risks a glance at the flying object. With a grunt, he slams his greatsword into the Stalker’s shoulder, staggering it long enough to snatch the bracer from the air.
"Yes, your majesty!" Grixx roars, forcing his opponent to the ground with sheer brute strength.
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Alix turns to his own foe — the charred and battered Stalker, still smoldering from the enhanced Pyre Lance. Its breathing is ragged, but its hatred burns stronger than ever.
"You’ll regret this," the creature snarls, rising unsteadily.
"I doubt it." Alix dashes forward, slamming his palm against the Stalker’s chest. The bracer in his own hand latches onto the creature’s torso, the crimson runes flaring to life.
The Stalker’s body jerks violently as the Shacklebind Cuff constricts around its form. Glowing chains of red energy coil tightly around the beast’s limbs, forcing it to its knees. The creature thrashes, but the magic suppresses its strength — a power designed specifically to subdue weakened Tier 5 entities.
On the other side of the battlefield, Grixx roars as he drives the second bracer against his opponent’s neck. The same crimson chains burst forth, snapping around the creature’s arms and torso, binding it in place.
Both Stalkers writhe, snarling and cursing in their guttural tongue. Their burning glares fixate on Alix.
The Umbral Stalker bound near Berko stares in disbelief, its gaze flicking back and forth between the two subdued figures — the strongest warriors of their tribe, now shackled and kneeling in chains of glowing crimson.
"No… no, that’s impossible," the Stalker mutters, voice trembling. "You... you can’t be bound... Lords Tarven and Grell..."
Its voice rises, sharp with desperation. "Lords Tarven! Lord Grell!" it calls out, straining against its restraints. "Fight it! Break free!"
The Stalker’s plea echoes through the cavern, panic seeping into its words. "You’re the Unyielding! The Lords of Umbral race! No magic should—!"
"Silence!" Tarven, bound before Alix, snarls. His charred form trembles under the weight of the Shacklebind Cuff, but his defiant gaze burns fiercely.
Alix steps forward, eyes cold as steel. "You’re not breaking free," he says flatly. "This isn’t a spell you can shatter with brute force. Those cuffs suppress your core — your power is nothing more than flickering embers right now."
The Stalker near Berko glares at Alix, fangs bared. "You think this will hold them forever?"
"It won’t have to," Alix replies, calm yet firm. "They’ll either see reason... or I’ll kill them when the time comes."
"Empty words," Tarven sneers. "When my strength returns, I’ll rip out your spine and hang it from the Great Thorn."
"I suggest you focus on surviving first," Alix retorts. His gaze shifts to the Stalker captive by Berko. "You. What’s your name?"
The creature stiffens, glaring warily at him. "I am Vyrin."
"Well, Vyrin," Alix says coldly, "if you care about your tribe, you’d better convince your lords to start listening. Because if they don’t…" His gaze flickers back to the two bound Tier 5 Stalkers. "I’ll have no use for them."
The tension hangs heavy in the twisted forest — an endless sprawl of dark, gnarled trees whose branches coil like skeletal fingers. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying wood. Faint whispers seem to drift from the shadows, a constant reminder that the Umbral Stalkers are never far away.
Grell — still bound in glowing crimson chains — exhales deeply, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. He speaks, his tone calm yet firm.
"Why?" Grell asks, his hollow eyes narrowing on Alix. "Why did you spare our lives?"
Alix, standing just a few steps away, meets his gaze. The flickering crimson runes from the Shacklebind Cuffs cast a faint glow across his face.
"Because I like your race," Alix says plainly. "I have a kingdom on the surface, and I want your people to work under me."
Grell’s brow furrows slightly. "Work under you?" His voice carries neither anger nor disbelief — just quiet skepticism. "You believe the Umbral will bend so easily?"
"I believe your people are strong," Alix replies steadily. "I’ve seen it for myself. Strength like that has value — if given the right purpose. I can offer your tribe resources, protection, and power far greater than what you’ve scraped together here."
"Power?" Tarven snarls from his kneeling position, still struggling against the chains. His voice is a venomous growl. "You think your scraps can tempt us?" His burning gaze turns to Grell. "Don’t listen to this fool. The Umbral bow to no one!"
"You might want to reconsider," Alix says coldly. "If I wanted you dead, you’d already be rotting in this cursed forest. Instead, I’m offering you a future."
"Your arrogance will get you killed," Tarven spits.
"And your pride will get your tribe slaughtered," Alix snaps back.
The sharpness in his tone makes Grell’s gaze linger on him. There’s no desperation in Alix’s voice — only certainty. The silence stretches until Grell speaks again.
"If we refuse?" Grell asks quietly.
"Then I’ll destroy you," Alix says bluntly. "Your warriors, your elders, your strongholds — everything. I won’t waste words twice."
Vyrin, still kneeling beside Berko, stares at Alix in stunned silence. The sheer confidence behind Alix’s threat leaves no room for doubt.
Alix lets the silence hang for a moment before speaking again.
"Ok, I will not threatened you all. Instead, I have something here that will probably change your minds." he says, his voice calm but firm.