Chapter 95: The Fight Of The Heads

Chapter 95: The Fight Of The HeadsRemu hovered in the sky, her body suspended like a broken star against the bleeding sky. Her arms were outstretched, hair whipping wildly around her face as her chants poured into the rippling tear above. The clouds spiraled tighter, darker, hungrier. Magic surged in waves, thick and suffocating, drawn from the nexus and fed directly into the rift.

Every spell she cast made the tear stretch further, wider. And with it came whispers. Low. Ancient. The voices of the Fogwalkers, inching closer with every second.

Down below, Greta stood silently. Didn’t call her daughter down. She just watched with a weight behind her eyes that only a mother could understand.

"How far have you fallen, child?" she asked softly, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

Remu heard it.

And laughed.

Not a pleasant sound.

It was cracked. Wild. A laugh soaked in too many nights alone and too many thoughts left to rot in silence.

She looked down at them all—her mother, Boris, Vladimir, Fowler, Vulpina. The legendary leaders of their kind, standing like pillars beneath her.

"Don’t worry, Mother," she said, eyes glowing with madness. "When the Fogwalkers arrive, I’ll send you somewhere nice. A realm far away. One without monsters. Or me."

Her eyes landed on Vulpina next.



"But you, I won’t be so generous to. You can burn with the rest."

Vulpina didn’t flinch. Her tails swayed behind her, calm and deliberate.

"What is your obsession with Lucifer?" she asked, voice flat. "Last I checked, he never did anything to you. You just hated his guts from the moment you met him."

Her tone sharpened.

"Maybe you’re just sick in the head."

Greta didn’t stop her.

Remu’s laughter died instantly.

Her face twisted into a scowl. Her fingers twitched at her sides, magic sparking.

But then she stopped herself.

She looked at the tear again, then at the dark silhouettes standing just beyond it, waiting to be pulled into the world.

Her gaze drifted down to Balgron, who stood a few feet behind the leaders, his monstrous form watching them like a butcher surveying cattle.

Remu pointed.

"Go. Do your thing," she said. "Just don’t touch my mother."

Then she glanced sideways, and pointed at Vulpina.

"You can kill that one."

Vulpina didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Balgron grunted, amused.

"You don’t command me, girl. Remember that."

He rolled his shoulders, massive frame crackling with energy.

"But a deal is a deal. I won’t touch your mother."

Selene stood beside him now, quiet and unreadable.

And then they moved.

Like thunder.

Balgron surged forward first, the ground cracking beneath him with every step. Selene shifted mid-run, her form warping and splitting like smoke as she became a dozen different faces in one breath.

Boris charged to meet Balgron, his growl shaking the air. Vulpina raised her arms, foxfire blooming from her palms like twin suns. Vladimir blurred into the air, vanishing in a gust of crimson.

Greta stepped forward at last, lips already muttering counterspells.

Fowler dropped into stance, one hand on his blade, the runes on his skin lighting up in sequence.

They met in the middle.

And the sky screamed.

The wind snapped like a whip.

Then the world cracked open.

Balgron collided with Boris like two titans clashing in a dead god’s graveyard. The shockwave from the impact flattened trees, tore stones from the earth, and sent clouds scattering like frightened birds.

Boris didn’t budge. Muscles knotted like steel cables, fur bristling with lightning. His claws dug into Balgron’s forearm, twisted, and slammed the brute sideways into the ground. Earth exploded in a ring around them.

Balgron snarled, twisted like a lizard, and bit into Boris’s shoulder—his teeth glowing faint green. A curse spell. Boris howled and punched him in the ribs hard enough to send Balgron skipping across the dirt like a stone across a lake.

Vulpina was already mid-air, trailing blue foxfire that spiraled like a comet tail. She flicked her wrists—ten balls of flame shot out and curved around like homing wasps, chasing Selene as she darted between shadows.

Selene flickered in and out of view, her form ghosting like oil on water. Each of her faces whispered a different curse. One face cried. Another laughed. A third grinned wide, too wide.

She reappeared above Vulpina, a long blade forming from her own ribs, serrated and dripping black mist. She swung—*



CLANG!*

Vulpina caught the strike on a disk of foxfire, then kicked Selene full in the stomach. The impact sent the shapeshifter spiraling backward into a tree, splitting it in half. Selene hit the ground and reformed mid-fall, bones cracking loudly as her limbs twisted back into place.

Fowler moved next.

He vanished in a blur, a ripple of wind where he stood. He appeared right in front of Remu—but her shield flicked up just in time, a circle of red magic with humming runes. His blade stopped an inch from her chest.

She smiled.

"Nice try."

She flicked two fingers—Fowler’s body froze. Mid-swing, mid-motion, like a paused frame. She leaned close and tapped his nose.

"Stay."

Then launched him back with a spell that cracked his chestplate.

Meanwhile, Greta didn’t waste breath. Her hands moved in tight spirals, lips muttering non-stop. Magic poured from her—clean, old magic. Each word she said stitched glowing runes into the air. She wasn’t attacking.

She was sealing.

"Get the rift shut!" she shouted, voice cutting through the chaos.

But Remu just laughed again, floating higher. Blood ran from her nose now. Her eyes were glassy, over-bright.

"Too late. I’m already halfway through."

The tear above pulsed. A clawed hand reached out from it. Then another. The Fogwalkers were coming.

Back on the ground, Vladimir reappeared mid-air, spiraling like a red streak. He landed on Balgron’s back and drove twin blades into his shoulders, each hissing with cursed silver. Balgron roared and grabbed him by the waist, slamming him down like a ragdoll into the dirt. Once. Twice. A third time.

But Vladimir grinned—he wanted to be grabbed.

He whispered a word.

A red glyph exploded between them.

Balgron was blasted ten feet away, chunks of his own armor embedded in his chest.

Selene tried to rush Greta from the side, teeth like needles now, voice layered with screams.

Fowler stepped in, sword humming. He met her charge head-on, blade slicing through her midsection. She split in half—and reformed around the sword.

Fowler didn’t blink.

He dropped his blade and muttered something under his breath.

The runes on his arms lit in sequence—then detonated.

Selene screamed as radiant fire burst from within him, purging every cursed thing nearby. Her body turned to ash mid-scream, burning like dry paper.

But she didn’t die.

Her ash scattered, then re-coalesced behind Greta, who caught her with a backhanded ward that shattered the air like glass. Selene flew back again, coughing smoke.

Up above, Remu’s chants changed pitch.

The rift yawned, wider than before. A massive shape leaned halfway through now—a Fogwalker’s face. Pale. Eyeless. Grinning.

Greta’s wards faltered.

She stumbled.

"I can’t hold it if she keeps feeding it," she gasped.

"Then I’ll kill her," Vulpina said, voice flat.

She launched upward, nine tails trailing flame.

Remu caught her with a snap of her fingers—arcs of red lightning firing downward like spears. Vulpina weaved between them, then teleported right next to Remu and kicked her hard in the stomach. They tumbled mid-air, spells exploding around them like fireworks.

Remu screamed and flung her back with a pulse of raw force—but Vulpina caught herself mid-air using a tail to redirect momentum and launched forward again, faster this time.

Their fists met.



A shockwave rocked the sky.

Below, Boris howled and tackled Balgron again, slamming him into a boulder hard enough to crack it down the middle. Then he drove his claw into Balgron’s stomach—and pulled something out. A glowing black orb. His heart? No. A soulstone.

Balgron grabbed Boris by the neck and snarled.

"Put it back, mutt."

"Come take it," Boris growled.

Then bit down hard on the stone.

Balgron screamed as the soulstone cracked in half, dark smoke pouring from his mouth, eyes, and wounds.

The ground shuddered.

Lightning coiled from the rift to the clouds, crackling in spirals.

Remu started bleeding from her eyes now. She didn’t care. She loved it.

"They’re almost here!" she shrieked. "Just one more minute! ONE!"

"REMUUUUU."