Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“Vellamo!” Lovia shouts, starting toward her.
“Stay back!” I bark, stopping her. “She’s still alive. Focus on the fight!”
Lovia hesitates, fury flashing in her eyes, but she obeys. I glance at Vellamo lying there. She’s a Goddess, she has the strength to pull through, I have to believe that.
Hanna steps forward, her hands glowing faintly. She looks at me again, and this time there’s a question in her gaze, a plea for guidance.
“Do it,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. “Whatever it takes, Hanna. We need you.”
She nods, her face hardening. She raises her hands, and a burst of light erupts from her palms, cutting through the darkness. The cavern floods with a golden glow, and for a moment, Rangaista recoils, its jagged form steaming as if burned. The soldiers cheer, emboldened by the sight of their queen’s power.
But Hanna’s light is not the sun at full strength. It’s controlled, restrained. She’s holding back, and I know why. The fear in her eyes speaks to the humanity still within her.
Rangaista takes the moment to lunge at her, its claws slashing through the air. I move without thinking, intercepting its attack with my sword. The impact reverberates through my arms, but I hold firm, driving the blade into its tough, leathery hide.
“Now!” I shout to the soldiers.
They charge again, swords and arrows aimed at the creature’s exposed joints and vulnerable spots. Lovia leads the charge, her strikes precise and relentless, followed by her brother, both of fighting with the skill and grace that Vipunen instilled in them in their youth.
If I wasn’t so focused, I would be damn proud.
The Magician hurls bursts of black void, each impact creating rivers of a starry night sky that wraps around the demon’s body, squeezing it. Torben frantically chants, weaving protective wards that shimmer faintly around us.
The battle is chaos. Soldiers die horribly, crushed underfoot or impaled by Rangaista’s claws. The demon’s tail lashes out, sweeping through our ranks, leaving carnage in its wake. The air is thick with the stench of blood and burning hair.
Vellamo, despite her injury, rises to her feet. Her face is pale, and her right hand grips her pearl spear with unyielding determination. She plunges it into a weak spot in Rangaista’s side, drawing a roar of pain from the beast.
“Hold it down!” I command, lunging forward. My sword finds purchase in a gap near its shoulder, and I twist, trying to sever whatever unholy sinew holds it together.
Hanna’s light intensifies. She steps closer, her golden aura shimmering, her hands trembling. I can see her resolve wavering, the fear battling with her instinct to protect.
“Don’t stop!” I call to her. “You’re stronger than this thing. End it!”
She takes a deep breath, then raises her hands again. This time, the light explodes outward in a blinding surge as it tears a violent scream from her throat. It engulfs Rangaista, searing into its flesh. The demon howls, its form cracking and splintering into two pieces, like a too hot log on a fire.
“Hanna!” Lovia shouts in awe, shielding her eyes from the brilliance. “You did it!”
The light grows unbearable, filling every corner of the cavern. Soldiers fall back, retreating from the heat and radiance. I force myself to stay close, my blade still buried in the demon’s upper side, making sure it’s dead.
With a final, deafening roar, Rangaista collapses into the ground, cleaved two, creating a fissure of fire that runs across the cavern, steam and acrid smoke rising from the crack. Silence falls except for the ragged breathing of the survivors, everyone watching to see if the demon has truly been destroyed.
Then the fissure opens, slowly at first, flames licking out, giving us enough time to run away, before it opens wide enough to swallow the back half of the beast, leaving the head behind, a long black furry tongue rolling out.
Now it’s over.
It’s done.
Hanna collapses to her knees, her light fading. I rush to her side, pulling her into my arms. She’s trembling, her skin hot to the touch.
“You did it,” I say, my voice soft. “You saved us.”
She looks up at me, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “I’m not sure I did.”
I blink at her, confused. We made it, didn’t we? Around us, the soldiers begin to gather, checking the wounded, retrieving the dead. Lovia kneels beside Vellamo, who clutches the stump of her arm, blood pouring through her fingers, her face pale but resolute, while Tellervo is already trying her green magic to help it heal.
Then I hear it. A distant voice, faint and echoing.
“Father!”
I whirl around, my heart plummeting.
Tuonen?
Where is he? He was with us when the battle began.
“Tuonen?” I call out, my voice echoing through the cavern.
“Over there!” General Suvari shouts, pointing toward the far side of the chamber.
I run as fast as I can, panic pressing against my chest. The soldiers part for me, their faces pale. I see the fissure in the ground, the edges scorched and crumbling.