The Sins of the God King

Chapter 37: Lyferia

"Open the gates! The queen is injured!" Fernan's voice echoed through the chaos as he pounded on the gates with his blade, cradling the unconscious queen in his arms. Tarik stood at the ready, his ice queen poised, aimed at the approaching horde. Lyferia raced towards them from a distance, her strides determined and swift.

Xeldorian elders and children joined in, clamoring at the gates with desperate cries.

"I had it!" Fernan declared, gently placing the queen on the ground before tightening his grip on his blade. "Summer," he commanded, the blade igniting with fiery brilliance as he prepared to strike the gates. But before he could make a move, an arrow found its mark in his shoulder, causing him to stagger. Tarik's eyes darted to the source of the attack, spotting several archers perched atop the wall, their bows drawn and aimed at them.

The horde advancing steadily, their ranks filled with therians in their fearsome hybrid forms and wraiths haunting the battlefield in their ghostly manifestations. Their collective howls reverberated through the iron hold, a chilling sound that sent shivers down the spines of those defending the gates.

As Lyferia reached Fernan and the others, she leaped gracefully from her conjured Galanthos, which dissipated upon her departure. With swift precision, she began to paint, her brush strokes quick and purposeful as she took a deep breath. With her final stroke, a resounding crack echoed through the air, unleashing the flame wing, that quickly creates a wall of flames, blazing fiercely between the advancing horde and theirs.

Caught off guard by the sudden inferno, the therians at the forefront faltered, their advance halted as they recoiled from the searing heat. The chaotic momentum of the charge faltered, leading to multiple collisions and disruptions among their ranks.

Battle cries erupted from the therians as their frustrations boiled over, their hybrid forms a terrifying sight to behold. The wraiths charged forward relentless, their ghostly forms casting an eerie shadow over the battlefield. Panic spread like wildfire among the Xeldorian children as they witnessed the horrors unleashed by these otherworldly creatures, their fear palpable in the air.

"LOOSE!" a commanding shout echoed across the battlefield, prompting the archers on the wall to release a volley of arrows. However, to their dismay, the arrows passed harmlessly through the incorporeal bodies of the wraiths, falling uselessly to the ground below. Amidst the chaos, Fernan gritted his teeth against the pain as he swiftly removed the arrow lodged in his shoulder, unleashing a deafening howl of agony.

As the wraiths closed in rapidly, Tarik's voice cut through the clamor, his tone laced with desperation. "We're trapped, Lyferia!" he shouted, his gaze darting towards her. Yet, his eyes widened in astonishment as he observed Lyferia painting once again. With each stroke of her brush, a sense of anticipation filled the air.

Then, with a final stroke, Lyferia completed her painting, and a powerful gust of wind gathered around them. A loud crack reverberated through the air as a massive winged creature materialized before them, its black feathers gleaming ominously in the dim light.

It was a screecher, a legendary beast known to strike fear into the hearts. As the wraiths beheld the creature before them, they faltered, their advance halted by the mere presence of the formidable beast.