The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 49: The Snare of the Invisible Threads

Boris stood amidst the debris of the buildings, wiping the blood that trickled from his wound. His right arm hung unnaturally at his side, refusing to move as intended. He exhaled sharply, glancing down at his palm, analyzing the damage. His expression darkened.

"The gates... they don't just repel attacks.

They steal Shen too?"

Dust and debris swirled as he stepped forward, his towering frame re-emerging from the wreckage, his face twisted in a mixture of curiosity d menace.

"Those Gates are powerful... but they're thieves,"

he muttered, cracking his neck as his narrowed eyes fixed onto the boy standing ahead.

Hovering above Draven, the Gate of Messiah pulsed with golden light, Shen particles swirling within it, siphoning the remnants of Boris' stolen energy and returning it to its master. Draven, who had been feeling the strain of exhaustion creeping over him, suddenly felt relief. The ache in his body faded, his vision sharpened, and his breath steadied.

His fingers twitched, and threads began weaving through the tips, forming a dense network of white strings that slowly coiled around his arm, mending his damaged flesh and restoring his mobility. With a sharp motion, Boris pressed his hand against the ground, and fine strands of thread shot downward, disappearing into the earth like unseen roots.

His fingers clenched into a fist.

"So the gates can replenish him by absorbing enemy Shen on contact?"

He smirked,His gaze lifted to the golden structure above him, mind racing. Sitra Achra is born from my right eye, and the gates from my left... / can shrink them, which means... I should be able to reshape them too.

A wicked grin crossed his lips.

Closing his left eye momentarily, he focused, and the Gate of Messiah began to twist and morph, its form bending and cracking as its edges restrur ed. The air hummed with energy, a deep. -sonant vibration.

Then, with a final CRACK, the gate shattered into three glowing golden spears, hovering above him like divine weapons of judgment.

Boris' lips parted slightly. He watched the spears with careful eyes, muttering under his breath,

"Here they come."

WHOOSH!

The first spear fired toward him with blinding speed, piercing through the air like a comet.

Boris instinctively leaped into the air, using his invisible threads to anchor his movement mid-air, allowing him to hover just out of range. The moment his feet found balance, the second spear launched.

Boris' fingers flicked sharply.

"Thread Order: Spider Strike."

A single thread materialized in front of him-but unlike the others, this one gleamed like diamond, condensed into a weapon harder than steel.

The spear CLASHED against the thread, and with a swift snap of his fingers, Boris split the projectile in half sending golden shards scattering through the air.

But there was no time to celebrate.

The third spear was already upon him,His thread whipped forward, slicing through the golden projectile like a blade, streaking past Draven's attack.

Draven's Gate of Messiah reappeared, two massive golden gates materializing in front of him just in time to block the remnants of Boris' attack. The impact sent tremors through the battlefield, and as the dust settled, Draven lowered his gaze.

"It's more stronger defensive when in gate form," he muttered to himself, analyzing his own ability. "But when used offensively, its durability is reduced..."

He dissolved his Sitra Achra, his humanoid guardian vanishing into a mist of black energy. Then, with a single step, Draven shot forward, blade in hand, his form a blur as he ascended toward Boris.

Boris' eyes narrowed.

"You shouldn't have left that creature behind you."

SCHLINK.

Draven's body stiffened mid-air, a sharp pain searing through his throat. His hands shot up instinctively, clutching at his neck, his skin tightening as an invisible force coiled around it-a thin, razor-sharp thread, nearly imperceptible to the naked eye.

His breath came in short gasps, his airway constricted,Blood dripped down his chin.

Boris exhaled.

"It's over."

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sent another thread shooting forward, aiming to slice Draven in half-but the moment the thread reached its mark, Boris froze.

His own body jerked violently as blood sprayed from his mouth.

A deep gash tore across his chest, carving through his flesh.

His mind reeled. What..?

Draven's eyes locked onto Boris,Something had happened. Simultaneously, Kenzy and Gansu stared in shock, Boris' hands trembled, Draven's wounds deepened. And Both warriors stood, staring at each other, each one bleeding out.

What had happened?