The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 50: The Wrath of a God

A sharp slice cut through the icy air, followed by a deep SCHLICK—Draven's left arm was severed, tumbling to the ground, staining the snow-covered battlefield with thick, crimson blood. A deep gash ran across his face, marking him permanently with the wound from Boris' razor-sharp threads.

On the opposite side, Boris staggered, his breath ragged and labored. He gritted his teeth as a new wave of pain shot through his body. From behind him, a golden spear—the first one he had dodged—had impaled him, piercing straight through his back. Draven had shrunk it down earlier, rendering it invisible to the naked eye, only to expand it at the perfect moment.

Both warriors collapsed to their knees, gasping for air.

Draven clutched his bleeding stump, his vision blurring from the immense blood loss. A low, agonized growl rumbled from his throat as blood poured freely onto the frozen ground. He had won the exchange, but at what cost? His mind raced. He had absorbed some of Boris' Shen earlier—enough to give him one last shot. But if he failed now… that was it.

On the other side, Boris pressed his hand against his wound, his fingers trembling. He activated his thread manipulation, weaving together his frayed muscles, tendons, and skin, desperately trying to close the gaping hole in his torso. But it wasn't enough. He could feel his body deteriorating, his strength fading fast.

Draven exhaled deeply, his voice sharp and cold.

"We're here for the hybrid beast, and nothing will stop me. Even if I have to rip you apart with my bare hands."

His eyes flashed, and his remaining arm twitched as an unnatural Shen aura exploded from his body, shaking the very ground beneath them. The sky darkened, the air grew heavier, and then—

BWOOM!—Sitra Achra manifested once again.

Boris' expression darkened as he took a defensive stance.

"That thing again, huh?"

This time, something was different. The colossal celestial warrior behind Draven didn't just summon its bow—it grew extra arms. Each of its three spectral limbs drew an arrow—but these weren't ordinary projectiles.

CRACKLE… BZZZZT…

Red lightning coiled around each arrow, crackling violently as it pulsed with devastating power. The sheer pressure alone caused the sky to churn with chaotic red lightning storms. Thunder boomed overhead, sending tremors through the frozen wasteland.

Boris' eyes widened in horror as he witnessed not one, but three arrows of divine judgment aimed at him.

"This is dangerous."

He inhaled deeply, his mind racing. Just one of these arrows had annihilated half of Nagurskoye, and now Draven was unleashing three at once. He had to stop this.

From the sidelines, Kenzy and Gansu looked on in terror.

"He's going to erase this entire island!" Gansu gasped.

"And kill whatever we came here for!" Kenzy added.

BZZZZZT… KRA-THOOM!

Draven released all three arrows at once.

The projectiles ripped through the air, shattering the sound barrier, each one leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The sky itself seemed to scream, the clouds twisting into a vortex of chaos as the shockwave from the attack created tornadoes, sucking up debris, snow, and shattered remnants of the facility into the sky.

Boris gritted his teeth.

"You can't just launch them like that! You have to maintain focus!"

His fingers tensed, and suddenly, invisible threads hidden in the ground shot up, wrapping around Draven's legs. Before he could react, the strings yanked him violently, disrupting his aim.

BOOM!—The arrows shot forward but due to Draven miss aim they moved unnaturally but something happened this arrows collided with each other mid-flight.

BZZZZZT… KRK-KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

The sky erupted in an explosion unlike anything ever seen.

The very fabric of the battlefield was torn apart. A massive shockwave expanded outward, disintegrating everything in its path, Boris wasn't far from it, he was caught in it.

Entire sections of the Nagurskoye facility were erased from existence.

Buildings crumbled to dust. The frozen tundra melted into boiling water. Mountains cracked, splitting in half.

And then, the clouds above spun wildly, forming a monstrous tornado, sucking up debris and flames, creating a flaming vortex of destruction.

From within the storm, Kenzy and Gansu screamed as they were nearly pulled into the abyss.

A loud SNAP filled the air.

Boris' threads disintegrated in the wake of Draven's divine attack. He let out a sharp gasp, his eyes darting down at his own body—only to see that it was already too late.

His headless corpse fell to its knees.

His legs landed somewhere across the battlefield.

His right arm twitched as it rested several meters away.

Draven, completely drained, collapsed onto his knees, his breath ragged. He had expended every last ounce of Shen—even the power he had borrowed from Jörmungandr.

The battlefield was silent.

Kenzy and Gansu finally found their footing and took in the devastation surrounding them. The entire landscape was gone.

Kenzy swallowed hard.

"It's like a god descended upon this place…"

Gansu, trembling, couldn't even find the words.

In the center of the destruction, a glowing, four-cornered containment box stood untouched.

Despite the absolute annihilation, it remained perfectly intact.

Inside…

A small red dragon, still in its infant stage, curled up peacefully. It hadn't stirred once—completely unbothered by the chaos surrounding it.

The Hybrid Beast had been waiting.