Chapter 292: Destroy The Cursed (107)

Chapter 292 — The Last OptionWhile the others watched from the fringes, Han and the Dark Emissary were locked in a brutal, intimate war. Each blow taught him something new about her .... her style was fluid but chaotic, a battlefield master who moved like water breaking stone. The mystery around her only deepened; Drake had said she’d become an Ultimate Warrior. Now Han understood why.

A shadow-wave of dark aura lunged forward, swallowing the space between them. Han blinked out .... a teleport .... but the Emissary had already mapped his moves. Her condensed fist smashed the place he’d just been, snapping his head and hurling him to the ground.

She dove after him, a falling black hurricane meant to finish him. Han braced for that final blow .... and triggered the second active of Nova Phase.

Guardian Retribution: ACTIVATED.

The moment her attack slammed into him, the armor roared. Energy redirected, rebounding the strike back with double the force. The Dark Emissary was torn apart by her own assault, crashing into shattered stone in a dozen smoking pieces. Han slammed into the floor in a violent burst, spitting blood, pain stabbing through him. He forced himself up, every breath a battle.

She staggered to one knee and coughed up ink-dark blood. Her armor was cracked, her breath ragged .... but the grin never left her face. Han stared coldly; he’d burned Guardian Retribution to blunt a near-fatal hit. Without it, he would have been dead.

He was wounded. His HP was low. Ifrit–Thunderwrath’s merged pain still gnawed at him, but Pain Suppression in the Nova Phase armor had kept him from collapsing. He owed both his life and his scars to that suit.

The Emissary’s black eyes bored into his. A rasp crawled from her throat, slow and terrible:

"I... promise... all... heroes... will... die. You will... die... first."

Then she folded herself into the sky. Darkness wrapped her like a cocoon, space warping inward as she condensed everything into one final, annihilating strike. The air itself began to shred; the hairs on every hero’s neck stood up. The sphere of destructive aura tightened, humming with a horror Han could feel in his bones.

He couldn’t let it happen. If that blow landed, it wouldn’t just take them ... it would obliterate the island, the labs, every life inside the base. Even Nova Phase might not save him from a direct hit that concentrated.

And Guardian Retribution had a long cooldown. He couldn’t rely on it again.

There was one last option .... the armor’s ultimate. The thing you only pull out when the world is about to end.

Han closed his eyes. For a breath, he thought of the people behind him, of the scientists and the innocents caught in Drake’s scheme. He thought of Ronan and Jay, of Little One’s grin, of every ragged, exhausted face who’d risked everything to stand here.

"Activate... Living Bulwark," he said.

The suit answered.... a system prompt flaring across his vision, cold and clinical against the roaring chaos.

> [Ultimate Skill: LIVING BULWARK — Activate?]

[Cost: 10000 energy + 60% HP]

[Accept / Decline]

His fingers hovered over the confirmation. The truth hung in the air: if he used it, he might save everyone and die for it. If he didn’t, the Emissary’s compression would end them all.

Han’s jaw tightened. Stars of pain flashed behind his eyes; the world had narrowed to one last choice.

He swallowed blood, life and resolve hard as iron.

He tapped Accept.

The system accepted.

It spread first like a colorless ripple, then formed into a dome .... wrapping around Han’s body, expanding outward until it encompassed everything.

Living Bulwark: Activated. Defense — 100%.

The dome pulsed once, then surged forward, covering his allies, the ruins of the base, and finally the entire island .... or what was left of it. Han exhaled through his teeth, voice low.

"Please... let this be enough."

Above, the Dark Emissary had finished her charge. Her cocoon of darkness screeched through the sky, a sound like a million damned souls clawing at the walls of existence. The moment she struck, the world itself seemed to convulse. The barrier trembled .... but it held.

Barely.

A notification flashed across Han’s vision:

Defense: 80%.

The Dark Emissary screamed — her voice merging with those countless spectral wails — pounding against the dome again and again. Each impact rattled the air, each collision shredding the sky itself.

The numbers dropped.

Defense: 70%. 65%. 58%.

Han’s expression hardened. If he’d used Living Bulwark on a small radius, the defense would’ve been impenetrable. But to shield everyone .... his allies, the scientists, the innocents .... he’d spread it thin. Too thin.

The barrier shuddered violently, spiderweb cracks of light flickering across its surface. Below, everyone felt it .... their blood boiling, bones vibrating, energy pulled tight like strings about to snap. Even though the dome floated high above, they could feel death pressing down on them.

Ronan’s eyes shifted from the collapsing dome to the figure sitting motionless behind it all .... Drake.

The man still sat on his throne, but his calm was gone. For the first time, his mask cracked. His eyes trembled.

Why... why is this happening? he thought.

"This wasn’t what I foresaw."

The Dark Emissary wasn’t supposed to go this far. The heroes were supposed to be dead minutes ago. Every variable had gone wrong .... Han’s explosive rise, the sudden appearance of an S-rank hero, the unexpected backup. It was as if fate itself had turned against him.

If the Dark Emissary fell here, everything would crumble with her.

And she was failing.

The barrier continued to resist, but each pulse grew weaker.

Defense: 40%.

Han’s eyes flicked over the warning. His energy bar was dropping fast .... too fast. He could pull the barrier back, make it smaller, focus its power only on him and his team. But that would leave hundreds to die. He clenched his fists.

"Not happening."

He forced more power into the system. His energy plummeted as the armor drained everything it could to reinforce the shield. The numbers climbed again.

Defense: 60%.

Then dropped.

45%. 55%. 48%.

Back and forth, like a heartbeat on the edge of failure.

The battle dragged on for minutes .... long, suffocating minutes. The Emissary’s screams grew weaker. Her aura flickered, the once-terrifying darkness now dim and cracked.

But Han was fading too .... his vision blurring, his breathing uneven. The Living Bulwark’s timer flashed red in his HUD.

[Warning: Duration limit approaching.]

To Be Continued.....

AUTHOR’S NOTE

That’s the Chapter, everyone!

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– Ultra