SPIRITBINDER: The Boy Without A Mark
Chapter 97: The Rulers’ War

Chapter 97: The Rulers’ War

The air crackled with tension as Levan squared off against Drevon and Morvane’s shadow beasts. Despite his formidable mimicry abilities, Levan’s face was grim. He knew that every second of this battle drained his energy, and against Drevon’s relentless chaos, it was only a matter of time before he faltered.

The massive wolf shadow beast lunged at him, its jaws gleaming with dark energy. Levan barely dodged, rolling to the side and countering with a telekinetic blast that only pushed the beast back momentarily.

Drevon stood amidst the chaos, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You look tired, Levan. Feeling the burn of all that mimicry?"

Levan didn’t respond. He tightened his grip on his blade, preparing for another attack when a sudden tremor shook the ground.

From the horizon, three powerful figures emerged, their presence palpable. Deus, Dergo, and Ikana strode onto the battlefield, their expressions resolute.

Levan’s lips curved into a faint smile. "You’re late."

"We’re here now," Dergo said, his voice booming. "That’s all that matters."

Deus cracked his knuckles. "I was in the middle of a feast, but this looks more fun."

Ikana’s violet eyes glimmered as she surveyed the chaos. "The odds were against you, Levan. But not anymore."

Drevon’s smirk faltered as the rulers positioned themselves. "Ah, reinforcements. How predictable."

The wolf and crow shadow beasts snarled, their forms pulsing with chaotic energy.

"Let’s even the odds," Dergo growled, launching himself at the wolf beast with a ferocious roar. His superhuman strength collided with the beast’s raw power, shaking the earth beneath them.

Deus charged toward the crow shadow beast, his muscles bulging with newfound strength. He bit into a piece of jerky he had pulled from his belt, and his power surged. With a mighty leap, he grappled with the crow, their clash echoing through the battlefield.

Levan nodded to Ikana. "Support me against Drevon."

"On it," Ikana said, her voice calm. Her probability manipulation shimmered around her like an invisible veil.

Levan and Ikana advanced toward Drevon. Drevon’s grin returned as dark energy spiraled around him. "Two against one? I like those odds."

Levan unleashed a telekinetic wave while Ikana subtly twisted the probabilities in their favor. Drevon dodged the wave but was caught off guard as the ground beneath him crumbled unexpectedly.

"Nice trick," Drevon admitted, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"It’s called strategy," Ikana shot back, her eyes glowing.

Levan pressed the attack, combining his mimicry powers with Ikana’s probability manipulation. Drevon, for the first time in the battle, looked genuinely challenged as their coordinated assault pushed him back.

But the demon wasn’t one to fall so easily. With a guttural snarl, he unleashed a wave of dark energy that forced Levan and Ikana to retreat.

The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of clashes and explosions. Dergo wrestled with the wolf beast, his strength unmatched, while Deus grappled with the crow, his power growing with every bite of food he consumed.

Drevon, despite the odds, held his ground. "You might have the numbers, but chaos always finds a way."

Levan’s eyes burned with determination. "We’ll see about that."

The war between the rulers and Drevon had only just begun.

Drevon’s breathing was heavy as he evaded Levan’s blade strike and narrowly avoided Ikana’s probability-warped traps. His smirk faltered as he took in the battlefield. Levan and Ikana were a formidable tandem—Levan’s mimicry and combat prowess, combined with Ikana’s ability to shift probabilities, made them an almost unstoppable force.

Nearby, Dergo grappled with the massive wolf shadow beast, his superhuman strength overpowering it despite its ferocity. Deus fought the crow shadow beast, his strikes growing stronger with each bite of jerky he devoured.

"Damn it," Drevon muttered under his breath, frustration flickering across his face. "If only I could use 100% of my power in Baltalaha, this fight would’ve ended already."

He clenched his fists, dark energy swirling around him. "But if I go beyond 5%, the gods from heaven will feel it—and worse, they might come for me."

His frustration simmered as he tried to think of a way to turn the tide.

But Drevon’s focus on his internal dilemma proved to be his downfall.

A sudden gust of wind brushed against the back of his neck, and before he could react—

BAM!

A devastating punch struck the side of Drevon’s neck, sending a shockwave through his body. His vision blurred as the force of the blow slammed him face-first into the ground.

The impact cratered the earth beneath him, dust rising in a thick cloud.

Drevon coughed, disoriented, as he tried to push himself up.

"Gotta be alert all the time, you know," Deus said casually, his voice muffled by the piece of jerky in his mouth.

Drevon’s eyes burned with rage as he glared up at Deus. "You sneaky bastard..."

Deus shrugged, grinning. "Hey, you were monologuing. That’s on you."

Levan and Ikana took advantage of Drevon’s vulnerable state, closing in with renewed determination.

"It’s over, Drevon," Levan declared.

The demon clenched his teeth, dark energy flaring around him. "We’ll see about that."

The battle was far from over, but for the first time, Drevon was at a clear disadvantage. And the rulers knew it.

Deus grinned wickedly as he continued pummeling Drevon, who struggled beneath his relentless blows. "Not so tough now, are you?" Deus mocked, his voice casual despite the chaos.

A few meters away, Dergo stood over the defeated shadow beasts, their forms flickering weakly on the ground. His chest heaved from exertion, but a triumphant gleam sparkled in his eyes.

Morvane watched the scene in disbelief. His mind raced, unable to process what he was witnessing. The rulers—the very people deemed to be the strongest in all of Baltalaha—had turned against him.

"I can’t believe this is happening..." he whispered.

He forced himself to his feet, though his body trembled from the strain. Before he could take a step, Medas stumbled toward him, blood trickling down his forehead. Despite his injuries, his eyes burned with fierce determination.

"Morvane," Medas rasped, "hide. Now. They’re after you."

"But—" Morvane began.

"No buts!" Medas cut him off, his voice hoarse but resolute. "Just go!"

Morvane’s heart clenched, but he knew Medas was right. Gritting his teeth, he turned and ran, even though every fiber of his being screamed to stay and fight.

As he sprinted through the forest, the world blurred around him. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t stop.

Suddenly, two figures emerged from the trees—Crimson and Vianna, their expressions grim.

"Morvane!" Crimson called out, relief flickering across his face.

"He’s alive," Vianna whispered, her voice tinged with both relief and urgency.

Morvane’s eyes widened. "Crimson? Vianna?"

Before he could explain, Medas stumbled out of the clearing, his face pale but filled with determination.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Medas said breathlessly. "They’ve already decided to kill Morvane."

Crimson’s jaw clenched. "Then we won’t let that happen."

Vianna’s eyes glowed with fierce resolve. "We’ll protect him. No matter what."

The tension thickened as the sound of footsteps echoed behind them. The rulers were closing in. The chase had only just begun.

The serene garden of Ketamran’s Palace had turned into a war-torn battlefield. The once-vibrant field was now marred by scorch marks, broken terrain, and the residue of powerful magic.

On the left stood Medas, Vianna, and Crimson, their postures firm as they formed a protective shield around Morvane, who had just barely escaped moments ago. Determination burned in their eyes—they would not let the other rulers take him.

On the right side stood Ikana, Deus, Dergo, and Levan, their expressions resolute. The weight of their combined presence was palpable, radiating power and authority.

Between them lay Drevon, his body battered and bloodied from the earlier battle. For a moment, it seemed he was dead. But then, a faint chuckle echoed through the battlefield.

Drevon’s eyes flickered open, and he grinned despite the pain. "Damn... being beaten like this doesn’t feel great," he said hoarsely, his voice laced with amusement. "But hey, it was fun."

The rulers watched in tense silence as Drevon struggled to his feet. His crimson eyes gleamed as he glanced at Medas, Vianna, and Crimson.

"I’ll let you three handle this mess," he declared with a twisted smile. "For now... I’ll be with Morvane."

Before anyone could react, shadows engulfed Drevon, and he vanished into thin air.

Silence descended upon the battlefield, broken only by the rustling wind.

The tension between the two groups intensified. The weight of their decisions hung heavily in the air.

"What happened to us?" Medas said, his voice filled with anguish. "We were supposed to be allies."

"If you had just handed over Morvane," Levan said coldly, "none of this would have happened."

Crimson’s eyes burned with disbelief. "You’re really willing to go this low for a kid?"

Deus, chewing on another piece of jerky, shook his head. "It’s not about getting low. We just need to protect the balance."

The words hung between them, heavy and bitter.

Vianna’s voice was soft but firm. "Is this what we’ve become? Fighting each other while the world crumbles around us?"

The rulers stood at a breathtaking standoff, the tension crackling like lightning. Their faces reflected anger, betrayal, and conviction.

Each side knew that the next move could change everything. And none of them were willing to back down.

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