The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 47: Clash of Monsters

Draven's blade whistled through the air, slicing toward Boris with deadly precision. But just as the strike was about to connect, Boris tilted his head slightly—the blade narrowly missing his face. It continued past him, embedding itself deep into the ground with a resonating THUNK!

Boris cracked his knuckles, his expression shifting into one of exhilaration.

"Very well," he said, his thick Russian accent laced with amusement. "Let's finish this, boy."

Then, his Shen erupted.

A wave of sheer pressure exploded from his body, the ground beneath him fracturing and lifting in jagged formations. The sheer force shattered ice and permafrost, melting away the frozen terrain in an instant. WHOOM! WHOOM! Shockwaves pulsed outward, distorting the air itself.

Gansu and Kenzy collapsed onto their knees, the crushing weight of Boris' energy forcing them downward like an invisible hand gripping their bodies.

Kenzy gasped, "His Shen… it's monstrous!"

Gansu grit his teeth, veins bulging as he fought against the force. "This is bad."

Yet, Draven stood firm.

He exhaled slowly, his pupils dilating as a strange sensation overcame him. In the depths of his subconscious, he found himself in a void of endless black. Then, from the abyss, something stirred.

A colossal serpent emerged, its massive, coiling body shifting through the darkness like a living shadow. Its golden eyes locked onto Draven as its deep, reverberating voice echoed in his mind.

"Master."

Draven's expression remained neutral, but there was an underlying sharpness to his tone.

"You seem restless, Jörmungandr."

The snake let out a deep chuckle. "I am bored. But I see we have company…"

Draven grinned, fangs slightly exposed.

"Then let's put your power to use."

With a sudden motion, Jörmungandr's tail coiled around Draven, tightening before dispersing into mist—its energy fusing into him.

Back in reality, Draven's Shen flared violently.

BOOOOOOOM!

A wave of golden-black energy erupted from his body, clashing directly with Boris' aura. The air between them cracked, a powerful vacuum forming in the space where their energies met. Ice that once coated the land instantly evaporated, the ground turning from frozen permafrost to molten rock in mere seconds.

For a brief moment, the entire battlefield fell into silence. Then—

SHHHHRRROOOOM!

The collision of their Shen imploded, neutralizing the energies into a flash of white. The sky itself seemed to waver, as if the world was adjusting to the sheer scale of their power.

Draven breathed heavily. His muscles tensed, body adjusting to the overwhelming force coursing through him. But before he could react—

Boris was gone.

FWOOOSH!

Draven's eyes flickered— but it was too late.

A fist, faster than sound, crashed into his gut.

BAAAAAAM!

The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, and in an instant, Draven's body blurred backward like a bullet— smashing through an entire mountain.

KRRRRSHHHH!

Dust and debris exploded into the sky as his body tore through layers of rock, before finally coming to a stop. He collapsed onto the ground, a deep gash torn across his chest.

Blood dripped.

Draven coughed violently, his vision flickering.

But before the pain could register, his wounds began to close.

SHLIIIIIIIK

From the torn flesh, tendrils of Jörmungandr's serpentine energy slithered out, stitching the wound together instantly.

Draven's eyes widened slightly. Healed already?

He slowly pushed himself up, his fingers curling into a fist. His breathing steadied, his expression darkening.

Boris narrowed his eyes, having witnessed the unnatural regeneration.

"Impressive," he muttered, cracking his neck. "But not enough."

A smirk crept onto Draven's face as he reached forward, fingers twitching.

Then—

His sword shot out of the ground.

FWOOOOOOSH!

A black blur tore through the air, moving faster than the eye could track— aimed directly for Boris' blind spot.