The Sinful Young Master

Myron was now standing at the entrance of the chambers in which the pillar was present. Behind him, the soldiers lay dead or passed out. The number wasn't much, as a lot of them left for the battle with the count. So the castle remained unguarded at the moment.

Inadrys had been stuffing his mind for a while, telling him to be quick. He told him that Jolthar was getting stronger and he needed to finish him.

Inadrys's command echoed in his mind: "Find the chamber. Find the boy."

The marble floors cracked beneath Myron's footsteps, the energy radiating from his body in waves of electric blue and silver. While he was coming here, his mind was swirling with thoughts of Inadrys and his voice. It was starting to get annoying. But he did listen to Inadrys as he now stood here. He, for himself, wanted to see what Jolthar was doing here while the army had gone out to fight.

When he was about to enter, a sudden quake made him lose his balance and crash like an explosion, revealing the inside of the chamber.

Myron stood against the wall as he noticed a figure standing amidst the debris.

It was Jolthar.

The moment was frozen in time.

Jolthar stood at the chamber's centre, surrounded by the crumbling remains of the rectangular pillar. As the stone structure collapsed, the entire castle shook violently—stones falling, walls cracking, centuries of magical reinforcement suddenly failing.

The ancient seal that had contained Na'rajina's power for generations suddenly broke.

It was like a dam collapsing, releasing centuries of restrained energy.

Jolthar felt the change immediately.

While Qalena's fragment had maintained careful control over the absorbed beast power, her sudden recession, combined with the pillar's destruction,n created a catastrophic release. It wasn't the power of the beast king; it was what accumulated inside the pillar. The residue of his power. He had been inside the pillar for centuries, so there were some leftovers.

The power that had been tightly contained now surged outward, no longer bound by divine restraint.

Jolthar frowned as he noticed the green energy clinging to his legs and slowly creeping up.

Green energy began to swirl around Jolthar, first as a gentle mist, then rapidly expanding into a violent vortex.

From the sideliness,

The colour was unlike anything Myron had ever seen—not just green, but a living, breathing emerald that seemed to pulse with its own consciousness. Fragments of the pillar's debris were caught in the energy's rotation, suspended in mid-air like leaves in a hurricane.

The chamber transformed.

What had been a controlled, sacred space became a maelstrom of primordial power. The green energy grew larger, consuming more of the room, tendrils of power lashing out and touching the stone walls, causing them to pulse with an inner light.

Myron, protected by his divine heritage, stood in the doorway.

Scratches marked his skin from his violent passage through the castle, but his eyes remained fixed on Jolthar. The deivruta watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as the mortal boy was engulfed completely by the emerald energy.

-

Miles away, on the battlefield, another disturbance manifested differently.

Count Hamen sat wounded atop his wyvern, the magnificent beast's wing torn and hanging uselessly. Blood ran down the Count's face, and his emerald armour cracked and tarnished from the brutal combat.

The Vaemani Stone was pulsing furiously just after the moment the pillar broke.

The beasts were turned into a rage and fought with newfound proficiency after the stone got the glow.

Dagur and Yilar remained untouched amidst the chaos.

The barbarian chieftain's massive battle-axe dripped with blood, cutting through soldiers and beasts alike. Yilar moved with an almost supernatural grace, his robes somehow pristine despite the carnage surrounding him.

The Chitteran army fought with undiminished ferocity.

They didn't distinguish between Count Hamen's soldiers and the supernatural beasts—everything was an enemy to be conquered. Each warrior fought as though the very act of battle was a religious experience, their southern blood singing with the joy of combat.

-

Back in the castle chamber, Myron took a tentative step forward. The green energy surrounding Jolthar had become so intense that it was nearly opaque, blocking any view of the boy within.

Jolthar seemed unable to control the growing ferocity of the green energy. A green light poked out of his eyes and mouth as he seemed to be screaming.

"What the heck is happening?" Myron whispered, divine power crackling around his own body in defensive response.

Inside the emerald vortex, something was changing.

Something was being born.

-

Abruptly, the battlefield fell silent.

One moment, armies were locked in brutal combat—soldiers and beasts clashing in a dance of violence.

Then everything stopped.

The Vaemani stone on Hamen's wrist began to flicker wildly, its emerald light becoming erratic, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Hamen frowned as he noticed the distinct glow on the stone, and suddenly, he turned his head in the direction of the castle.

So did Yilar.

From the castle centre, a massive column of green energy erupted skyward, transforming the entire landscape into a canvas of emerald light. The intensity was blinding, forcing warriors to shield their eyes. Horses reared in terror, and even the most battle-hardened soldiers felt a primal fear grip their hearts.

As quickly as it had appeared, the pillar vanished.

But in its place, something emerged.

A gigantic form took shape, rising from where the pillar had stood. It moved with a grace that defied its massive size, ascending into the sky.

Everyone in the city and on the battlefield—Myron and even the unseen eyes from above—watched in stunned awe as the colossal creature ascended even higher up in the clouds.

It rose higher and higher, its immense form unchained, unrestrained, like a force of nature that had finally been set free. Then, with a thunderous, ear-splitting roar, it shattered the silence, its cry reverberating through the very bones of those who bore witness.

As it soared, its massive body carved through the sky, parting the clouds like a tidal wave splitting the sea. The heavens themselves seemed to tremble in its wake, the billowing storm clouds swirling chaotically around it as if bowing before the overwhelming presence of something far beyond mortal reckoning.

With a sudden change in its trajectory, it moved towards the battlefield.

The creature's approach was like a living storm—the air itself seemed to tremble in its wake.

"Impossible!" Hamen gasped, wiping blood from his face.

"Is that Beast King!!" He saw the massive creature snaking its way towards them, and he could see the familiar appearance of the beast king.