Ren used his blade in quick succession—three blows for each shield—as Yui shadow-stepped and placed a dagger at the wolf's neck. Or so the wolf thought. She revealed herself behind it and placed another dagger against its heart.
"Choose, white-furred. Death or surrender. We don't have time for you right now," Ren said, while Yui pushed the dagger deeper into the creature's neck.
The wolf growled once more before letting out a howl. All the wolves around them suddenly stopped and looked toward him.
"Damn it. Do you think we can take them all, sis?" Ren asked, already readying his stance, only for a warp to open behind them.
From it, Logan, Lisa, Silis, and a giant beetle with what looked like four guards emerged. All appeared tattered, but still standing strong.
"Seems we arrived in time. Silvia said we should help… but I believe we'll have to ask for more… backup," Logan said, just as Ren and Yui stepped aside. The werewolf they had captured still struggled to break free, its followers watching closely to see its next move.
Logan turned to Ren and Yui, expecting an explanation, but his gaze shifted. He sensed something far off in the distance. There, across the field, stood what looked like George and Jonathan.
"Guess it was a friendly reunion, huh?"
[No, Logan. Now, hurry up and tame this beast before it escapes. It's the last of the pack leaders. After that, we'll need to fight the demons. Your dragons have held them off... but—] Ren began to explain, but Logan had already acted.
He drew on Serana's blood magic—Sanguine Thorn—sending blood-forged thorns to ensnare the wolf. The blood invaded its weakened system, forcing it to struggle against the forming pact.
"Silvia told me what we should expect, at least regarding these wolves. Now let's focus. The demons aren't going to like our intervention."
That was when they noticed George move.
He wasn't walking. He was gliding across the battlefield.
And what he did next caused fear, nausea, and fury.
Tendrils of strange magic stretched out from him, reaching toward the fallen. One by one, the dead began to rise. It looked like he was spinning a white, hazy web across the ground—each corpse he revived adding to it.
As for Jonathan, he stood still, as if waiting to see what would happen. The other demons, including two demon generals, began assembling their troops—an unmistakable sign that the real battle was about to begin.
"Everyone, get ready. We have to last at least twenty minutes," Logan informed the group. Some knew what he meant; others did not, but none asked. They moved quickly to cover their portion of the army.
Thankfully, Drakhel and Narok were doing their part. Alongside the third sovereign, Silis, they were beginning to gain ground.
Brian, who had been holding himself back, sneered at Logan's arrival. The boy had appeared late and instantly taken command of the battlefield, but Brian didn't have time to comment on it.
He needed answers—and now that the white werewolf was under control, he intended to get them.
Without warning, he launched himself into the air and flew toward where George was standing.
"What the hell happened to you both? Why do you look like a demon? And you—why are you glowing green? You were an earth user, not wind! How did you change…?"
Before he could finish, George suddenly appeared in front of him. Without a word, he thrust his bare hand toward Brian's head, aiming to pierce it.
"What the hell, man?! What do you think you're doing?!"
Brian managed to punch the attack away, but the cold from his former friend's touch lingered.
George didn't speak. He backed off, then came at him again.
This time, Brian channeled energy into his hands, waiting until the last second before letting loose.
"Seems you forgot who always won those mock battles. Even with whatever power you were given, you're still weaker than me, Geo. How about I smack some sense back into you?"
Brian swung toward the side of his silent but dead friend's head—
—But before he could reach a pulse of energy blasted him backward.
"Don't hurt that one yet. We need to test him more. This is just a husk of his former self. Did you not use mana vision—or did you never have a teacher for the basics?"
Brian was about to go wide-eyed. The Jonathan he remembered never spoke like that. He sounded like the main character of an overpowered webnovel—more like a leader than the loner who was now trying to act like one.
"Who are you, and what did you do with Jonathan?" Brian asked. He was tired of not getting answers.
"Isn't it obvious? Or did you never really know your friend?" the imposter said with a grin.
"I've eaten his soul. And in return, he's gotten stronger—but only on one condition."
The one impersonating the young hero smiled wider, clearly enjoying the tension in the air—especially directed at Brian, who still looked like a fish out of water, unsteady and out of place in a moment that needed all his attention.
"Did I not just say to use mana vision? How dumb are the heroes when they don't even know the basics? Let me tell you what's going to happen."
Jonathan cleared his throat before continuing, his voice too calm, too smug.
"Let's see… all I want for now is to get the most annoying ones out of the way... So go, champion of the fire element—burn everything to the ground. We have more tests for you soon."
Brian smiled. It was exactly what he had planned all along.
Within a few seconds, the temperature around him began to spike. His skin glowed with fiery cracks of energy as he activated his inner flame. The sky itself seemed to respond, a haze of heat forming around his body.
"You want me to burn everything?" Brian asked, his grin stretching wider. "Fine. I'll start with you."
With a deafening crack, he vanished, reappearing a meter from Jonathan's face, flame swirling around his fist. But Jonathan, or the one using his body, didn't flinch.
"You know there are still memories of you in this body..." he said, catching Brian's punch with one glowing hand. "So give it your best, who know's maybe you can still save him..."
Brian's eyes narrowed. Flames surged across his arms as he poured mana into his strike, determined to break the smirk off his old friend's stolen face.