The Sa’ers explained that their power no longer worked on Esther the way it once had. Her soul itself had blocked them from exerting full control. But that didn’t sever their bond—she was still linked to them, just as they were to her. The only change was that now, there were limits: only specific things could reach her, and putting her to sleep against her will happened to be one of them.When Esther suddenly fell to her knees, it wasn’t weakness or sudden pain—it was the Sa’ers forcing her into unconsciousness. They wanted to fulfill a promise: to show her what they had done in creating the new reality, and to reveal pieces of the old reality she had missed. For that, she had to be asleep.However, even while unconscious, Esther remained aware of her surroundings. She could feel the danger closing in on her family in the mountain. She refused to let anything happen to them. Twice, she shattered her connection with the Sa’ers to intervene in the fight, and twice she rejoined them to

The mountain got angry since they were not going to give Esther to it, and they had walked to its den.Stone groaned and split as roots punched through the floor and walls, lashing inward toward the small circle of warriors. At the center, Redrick crouched low, Esther limp across his back, her pale cheek against his shoulder.“Close ranks!” Ramsay barked, blade already glowing with a thin sheath of magic.Noah was the first to meet the attack. His left claw, black and gleaming with dragon scale, ripped through the first tendril like paper. His right hand drove his sword into another root, splintering it with a crunch. Wings beat once, throwing dust and debris out of the circle.Ragmus surged forward on all fours, massive muscles bulging under his black fur. A root thick as a mast slammed into him, but he planted his claws and shoved back, three tails whipping like spears to shred the thinner strikes. He moved like a panther twice his size, holding the line through brute strength.“Kee

The wind roared across the wide grassland, tossing blades of green like waves on a restless sea. The Mountain’s massive frame shifted with a grinding sound as it stepped forward, each footfall sinking slightly into the turf. Without warning, its forearm cracked and twisted, the stony surface splitting and reshaping into a jagged black sword. It swung it once, the ground trembling beneath the weight alone.Ramsay planted himself, gripping his ancestral blade. Its glow was calm, steady—but silent. No help came from it. Every movement, every instinct, was his own.The Mountain lunged first, swinging the black sword in a downward arc faster than its enormous size should allow. Ramsay twisted aside, boots ripping grass and earth as he slashed in return. Steel kissed stone with a shower of sparks; the black sword barely trembled, leaving only a mark on the ground.They clashed again, the rhythm of strike and parry echoing across the open field. Ramsay’s movements were a blur—precise footwor

Ramsay’s eyes widened as the Mountain soul’s jagged sword arced down toward his neck. Every instinct screamed that this was the end — the final strike that would shatter everything he had fought for. He felt the crushing weight of inevitability press down on him, the world narrowing to the gleaming black edge above him. And then—time suddenly slowed.The sword, which had been an unstoppable force of death, now moved as if through thick honey, descending in a measured, torturous rhythm. Every second stretched, each motion magnified. Just then Ramsay suddenly felt a strange tug within his chest, a warmth and light coursing through his veins, and then, shockingly, his spirit lifted from his body. Though unconscious, his eyes remained wide open, seeing, understanding, aware.Ramasy blinked—or thought he did—and found himself several steps away from the Mountain, standing and fully conscious. Ramsay's gaze dropped to the battlefield: his physical self still crouched on the ground, bloodie

Ramsay pressed forward with ferocity, his twin blades carving streaks of light across the Mountain’s massive form. Each strike bit deep, tearing molten cracks into its stony hide, only for the wounds to seal again in seconds. Still, Ramsay did not relent. His arms moved in a storm of precision and fury, forcing the colossal being back step after step. For the first time, the Mountain yielded ground beneath the weight of his assault.The arena shook with every blow, dust raining from above to tell the arena was nothing but illusion, sparks bursting where steel met stone. Ramsay’s breathing came fast, but his focus was absolute. The Mountain was healing, yes—but it was being pushed.Then the mountain's molten eyes flared. The ground rumbled low and deep as cracks split along its left arm, glowing veins spilling fire from within. With a grinding roar, it lifted the arm high. Stone twisted, fire poured forth, and a second jagged blade took shape, mirroring the first.Ramsay froze for hal