[ENG] Last Reader Standing

Chapter 13: The Breath of Chaos

As night enveloped the City of Mirrors, a palpable tension settled into the hearts of Jun and his allies as they prepared for the confrontation with the Order of Güldenstern. The Rose of the Winds, more radiant than ever, hung from Jun's belt, a burden with glimmers of hope.

Beside him, Calla activated the powers of her tome, The Queen of the Night, her fingers brushing the pages in a sequence of movements reminiscent of a clandestine dance. Shadows seemed to gather around her, conspiratorial allies ready to obey her slightest whims.

Sora, the majestic black wolf, embodied the silence before the storm. His amber gaze fixed on the gates of the arena, which rumbled in anticipation—a promise to unleash his ancient power, forged in his title as the Wolf King. In his eyes was a reflection of past battles, a memory of heroism beyond mortal understanding.

Miranda, the group's newest recruit and bearer of Macbeth's curses, was an enigma. Her eyes, of abyssal depth, hid dark secrets woven into the very fabric of her magic. As she murmured ancient incantations, the air crackled with the electricity of her witch's will, ready to tear apart the illusions of their adversaries.

Marcus and Lila, forming their own duo of experts, whispered among themselves, strategies and tactics in hand. Marcus, wise and composed, drew plans of action from the essence of The Art of War. Lila, mischievous and unpredictable, was animated by the spirit of adventure of Peter Pan, finding in every problem an unexpected doorway to a solution.

Aeliana, observing the stars with Olympian calm, felt the ancient magic infuse the air. She prepared incantations to protect her friends, drawing from the mystical power of the stars.

A sudden silence fell over the assembly as the massive doors of the arena slowly opened. Behind them, a vast crowd of creatures and humans gathered, thirsty for spectacle. The Order of Güldenstern, figures clad in dark cloaks, their faces masked by silver ornaments, observed from their honorary balcony, almost immobile, like gray statues.

Jun's heart pounded as he drew his sword, feeling in its grip the ancestral connection to the great warriors of yore. It was more than a blade; it was the symbol of his commitment to this battle against chaos, against fate.

As the first adversaries advanced, Jun signaled to Calla, who vanished into the shadows, and to Sora, who braced for combat. Every move Jun made was a reflection of the timeless dance of heroes—precise, fierce, unrelenting.

Golems, summoned by the Order's magicians, erupted from the ground, their bodies fashioned from rock and dark magic. Calla emerged from the shadows, her blades dancing in the air, drawing arcs of death on their artificial bodies.

Sora leaped with the grace of an ancient prophecy, his jaws closing on enemies who fell one by one, voiceless in their defeat. Miranda raised her arms, and ghostly specters emerged from the ground, answering her ancient call to fight alongside them.

The battle continued in a symphony of chaos that tested their will, their strength, and their hearts. For every enemy defeated, another emerged, renewing the cycle of violence. But in the eyes of each hero, there was an indomitable flame, the spark of literary divinity that refused to be extinguished.

Jun understood that each blow struck was not merely an act of war but an affirmation of self—a reversal of ink and imagination against the dark forces attempting to rewrite their world. They were the authors, the storytellers, and the heroes of their own epic, rising above the pages the Order of Güldenstern sought to corrupt.

As the battle raged on in the arena, the winds of war seemed to shift. Lila, agile and unpredictable, weaved her way through the battlefield, a vibrant splash of color amid the gray destruction. With feigned naivety and real cunning, she disoriented the enemies, leading them into traps elaborated with the cunning of Peter Pan.

Marcus, the voice of reason amidst the storm, directed formations, his strategic mind ensuring their defense remained unshaken. He had seen the wars of Sun Tzu's The Art of War, and now he wrote the next chapters with a steely determination in his gaze.

Aeliana, using her connection to the stars, created shields of starlight to protect her friends from magical attacks, adding an additional layer of defense to their efforts.

Each enemy that fell under their blades was a victory for their shared resolve, but all knew this battle was only the prelude to a much larger and more sinister confrontation. The hooded figures of the Order watched silently, their unwavering patience masking the tumult of calculations and intentions unfolding in the power's shadows.

As their energy began to wane, a new challenge presented itself. A colossal figure emerged from the earth, a sorcerous creation of the Order, whose mere presence threatened to tip the battle's delicate balance. Its hands, as large as ancient trees, swept across the arena, seeking to crush those who dared oppose its masters' will.

Jun stood firm before the giant, brandishing his sword with the strength of an unending lineage of warriors. With Calla and Sora at his sides, he attacked relentlessly. For an eternity of chaos, Jun found himself parrying, dodging, and striking with a firmness that drew from every story that had shaped him.

And in Jun's mind, a new understanding of his power awoke. His bond with the Chronicles of the Immortal strengthened, and he drew upon a superhuman wisdom transcending the battles he had learned from. In a decisive sword stroke, imbued with the strength of all the heroes who had preceded him, he cleaved the animated stone, finding the hidden weakness and bringing the colossus to its knees.

The dust settled slowly, leaving behind a precarious calm. The heroes, tired but undefeated, stood firmly, their bonds strengthened by the fire of battle. They had faced menacing shadows together and triumphed; the victory in this arena was just a taste of the struggles to come.

The ensuing calm was interrupted by a breath of wind. A familiar figure emerged from the shadows. Marco, the master of infiltration and the mysteries of One Thousand and One Nights, had joined the battle in time. His eyes shone with determination, and a smirk revealed he had gathered crucial information.

« Marco! » exclaimed Jun, relieved. « Was your mission a success? »

« Absolutely, » replied Marco with a wink. « I've discovered secrets that will change the game in our fight against the Order. »

The chapter closed on a moment of silent recognition between Jun and his companions: an immortal warrior, a shadow thief, a wolf king, a cursed witch, a strategist, an intrepid adventurer, a mystical astrologer, and a master infiltrator. They were no longer merely individuals but a brotherhood forged in courage and determination, a unity ready to defy the darkness gathering beyond the arena's walls, and to write their own destiny.

The Breath of Chaos had been a journey through fear and revealed strength, a reminder that even in the heart of the thickest darkness, the light of spirit and camaraderie would always find a way.