Realmshift: Triad Ascendancy.

Annora III [Finale]

[ANNORA]

"Shall we begin?" Lady Vermouth asked, a sly smirk curling her lips as her eyes glowed with an unnatural light. Before I could respond, she vanished, disappearing from my sight in an instant.

The world around me shifted without warning. The once-bright sky darkened, clouds swirling into an ominous gray, and a cold, thick mist began to creep in, obscuring my surroundings. My chest tightened with shock—how was she capable of this?

"Are you just going to stand there?" her voice teased, echoing through the mist with a chuckle.

Before I could react, a sharp pain exploded in my stomach. Something hard slammed into me, hurling me several meters backward. I hit the ground hard, coughing up blood as I looked up to see the source of the attack.

A humanoid golem stood before me, its dark red eyes glowing with an eerie intensity. It was the height of an adult man, its form crude but undeniably threatening.

Lady Vermouth's voice cut through the haze, calm yet laced with amusement. "First, we'll see how far your body has adapted to your powers," she said. "To truly awaken, you'll need to be pushed to your limits." Her tone grew colder, almost mocking. "Be careful, child. I won't show you mercy just because you're my friend's descendant."

I staggered to my feet, my legs trembling under the weight of my own body. A faint, familiar warmth spread through me as my wounds began to knit themselves back together. My healing ability was kicking in again, bringing a momentary sense of relief. At least I wouldn't bleed out—not yet.

"What did I say about just standing there?" Lady Vermouth's mocking voice echoed in my mind, a taunt wrapped in disdain.

The golem didn't give me time to catch my breath. It charged at me with surprising speed for something so bulky, its fist hurtling toward my side. I twisted at the last second, narrowly avoiding the full brunt of the blow, though its knuckles still grazed my ribs. The impact sent a sharp jolt through me, but I pushed down the pain, grateful that the hit hadn't thrown me across the field this time.

I stepped back, trying to create distance, but the golem was relentless. It lunged again, swinging its massive arms with brutal precision. Each attack was a gamble—dodging took everything I had, and the few strikes that landed sent fire shooting through my body before the healing kicked in again. My stomach, my shoulder, even my leg—every blow left me reeling.

The mist around us swirled, thickening as if responding to the fight. It dulled my vision, making it harder to anticipate the golem's movements. My instincts screamed at me to focus. I couldn't afford to hesitate. I crouched low, waiting for its next move, my fingers brushing against the cold, damp ground.

I needed a plan. My powers kept me alive, but survival wasn't enough—I had to fight back. "Fine," I muttered under my breath, forcing my trembling legs to steady beneath me.

My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to that night—the night the villagers came. Their faces twisted with hatred, their shouts drowning out everything else. The sound of my parents' screams still echoed in the darkest corners of my mind. Anger boiled within me, raw and consuming. Frustration, grief, and helplessness swirled together, and this time, I didn't push them away. I let them take me.

A sharp, burning sensation ripped through my veins, and I gasped as blood began to seep from the gashes the golem had left on me. But the blood didn't fall. Instead, it moved—curling and twisting through the air as if it had a will of its own. Tendrils of crimson extended from my wounds, writhing like living things. Unlike before, when I had been too overwhelmed to control them, I could feel the faintest pull of connection. The blood wasn't just reacting to my grief; it was responding to me.