Boommm…

  The air burned with the scent of iron and rot. A deafening boom shook the ground beneath my feet as the blood shaman unleashed another barrage.

  My instincts screamed before my mind could process the movement. I ducked low, pivoting sharply, my blade slashing through the air as multiple blood arrows rained toward me. Each projectile hissed, leaving crimson streaks as they sliced through the air. One narrowly missed my head; I could almost feel its cold, invasive energy graze my skin.

  But I wasn’t fast enough.

  “Gah!”

  The cry escaped my lips as a blood arrow pierced my right thigh. Pain erupted like a hot coal jammed into muscle. I staggered, clutching my leg, my teeth grinding against the white-hot agony. My free hand gripped the shaft of the arrow—it wasn’t liquid but a jagged, solid construct.

  “Damn it.” My voice was barely above a growl.

  Fuck fuck FUCK…No time to hesitate Lexi, you stop u die…

  I yanked the arrow out in one brutal motion. Blood spilled, but I didn’t waste a second before flinging the cursed thing aside. It clattered to the ground, already beginning to dissolve into a viscous pool.

  The wound screamed for attention, but there was no chance to linger. The next barrage could fall any moment. Adrenaline coursed through me burning away hesitation. My body moved on instinct, forcing me into a roll and then a desperate dive as I narrowly avoided the next attack.

  Agrrh…

  I hit the ground hard, and for a moment, the world spun. The shaman had stopped his onslaught, and I didn’t trust it for a second to stay stopped.

  “Think, Lexi, think,” I muttered, slamming my hand against the dirt to center myself. The blood was already creeping closer, pooling like a malevolent tide around me. I couldn’t let it touch me—not again.

  Channeling Exira, I felt the searing heat bloom in my core. The familiar burn crawled down to my injured thigh. Sweat slicked my forehead as I forced the energy into the wound, purging not just the pain but the foreign blood still lingering there.

  The air filled with the acrid smell of charred flesh, and the edges of the injury blackened.

  “Fuck!” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  Fuu..fuuuu….

  Bear it Lexi, gotta burn away the traces of foreign blood...fuck it hurts…I may be overdoing this but I don’t know what this fucker can do…

  My chest heaved as I finished. And just as I burned away the last traces of the foreign blood using Exira, I heard a loud grunt and It didn’t take long to realize the shaman’s intent.

  My stomach churned at the thought. If I hadn’t expelled the blood, it could have been used against me. The Shaman could have harmed me or worse I could have my mind enslaved. That bastard wouldn’t have hesitated to turn me into one of his puppets.

  Cold sweat slid down my back. “Not happening. Not today.”

  Fuu… close call…

  I forced myself upright, biting back a groan as my leg protested. The shaman had stopped attacking, but it wasn’t out of mercy. His full attention was on the ritual.

  Steeling myself, I took in my surroundings. I was just outside the blood-soaked ritual circle. Its edges pulsed faintly, the symbols carved into the ground glowing a dark crimson hue.

  Whatever unholy power fed them wasn't anything I remembered.

  “So,” I muttered, my voice dry, “the bastard doesn’t engage unless I’m inside the ritual… confidence or…”

  I took a shaky step closer to the circle’s edge, careful not to cross. My muscles tensed, every nerve screaming caution.

  The atmosphere within the circle felt heavier, thicker—like the air itself was steeped in malice.

  “He’s completely absorbed in the ritual, but inside that space, he’s in control. Outside…” My voice trailed off as I glanced at the pools of blood surrounding the circle.

  The realization hit like a blow to the chest. He wasn’t running out of blood.

  “Of course not,” I muttered bitterly. My eyes locked onto the growing mass of crimson. The bodies of the sacrifices—their blood—wasn’t just for show. It was fuel both for the cursed shaman and the ritual.

  Thump.

  The low, rhythmic sound reverberated through the air, pulling my gaze upward. The sphere pulsed, like some grotesque beating heart. My hands tightened around the hilt of my blade.

  “Shit,” I breathed. “Running out of time now…”

  Every instinct told me to run, but I knew there was no escaping this. Whatever came out of that circle, whatever abomination the shaman was calling forth, it would find me.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The ground beneath my feet trembled slightly. The blood sphere expanded, dark tendrils snaking out from its surface, searching, reaching. My skin crawled at the sight, my grip on my weapon turning my knuckles white.

  “Focus,” I whispered to myself. “If you lose your nerve now, you’re dead.”

  ? ???? ???? ?? ??? ???

  ? ????'? ??????. ?

  The shaman’s voice rose in a guttural chant, a language I couldn’t understand but felt deep in my bones. Each word carried weight, like nails driven into my skull. He was hidden in the shadows beyond the sphere, his silhouette barely visible, but his presence loomed large.

  I stepped back instinctively, my boots crunching against the dry earth. The edge of the circle seemed to hum in response, as if daring me to cross.

  “Bastard,” I muttered. “You’re not going to let me wait this out, are you?”

  The sphere pulsed again, faster now. The tendrils began to solidify, forming jagged, claw-like appendages. My pulse quickened, a cold dread settling into my gut.

  Thump.

  The sound was louder this time, closer.

  My body moved before my mind could stop it. I lunged to the side, narrowly avoiding a tendril that lashed out like a whip. It struck the ground where I’d been standing, splattering blood in all directions.

  “Damn it!” I shouted, rolling to my feet. The tendril retracted, retreating back into the sphere as if testing me.

  ? ??????. ? ????'?

  The shaman’s chant grew louder, more frenzied. I could feel the pull of the ritual, like a tide dragging me toward the center.

  I clenched my teeth, staring at the circle’s edge.

  “If I go in there, I’m dead,” I muttered. “If I stay out here, I’m still dead.”

  fuuu…

  “Have to hurry” I muttered under my breath, my heart hammering like a war drum.

  The blood sphere throbbed with increasing intensity, rifts of energy crackling around it like chaotic bolts of thunder. The air itself seemed to tremble, charged with a sinister energy that made my skin crawl. I knew what this was—or at least, I could guess.

  This wasn’t an attack; this was a summoning.

  Every instinct screamed at me to move, to act before whatever unholy abomination the shaman was calling forth clawed its way into the world. With a sharp breath, I pushed off the ground and surged toward the ritual circle, my blade ready and my nerves taut as a bowstring.

  The moment my boots crossed the edge of the circle, the blood-soaked earth seemed to react.

  Fuu…

  The air left my lungs as three goblins, their twisted bodies slick with gore, lunged toward me from the shadows. They’d been skulking among the corpses, dragging the remains of sacrifices into the pool of blood feeding the ritual. Their claws glinted under the blood-red light, their jagged teeth bared in feral snarls.

  My gaze flicked past them to the bodyguard goblin charging in behind them. It was easily three heads taller than the others, its spiked club held high, its armor cobbled together from scraps of bone and metal. This wasn’t some disposable minion.

  Focus now…

  The goblins leapt for me, their movements erratic, fast. My grip tightened on my blade as I channeled Exira, feeling the familiar heat flood through me.

  Level 1 peak. Precise. Controlled.

  The moment they were upon me, I released the energy. A fiery pulse of light slammed into them, freezing them mid-motion as if they’d been struck by lightning. Their bodies locked up, twitching violently, their snarls turning to choked gurgles.

  Not wasting a second, I stepped forward, my blade singing as it sliced through the first goblin’s neck. Blood sprayed in an arc, the stench acrid and vile. A second swing took the next one, and the third fell with a final, guttural wheeze as my sword severed its head.

  fu…

  I barely had time to recover before the armored goblin’s club came crashing down, aimed squarely at my skull.

  “Shit!” I cursed, twisting my body and bringing both blades up in an X to block. The impact sent a jarring vibration through my arms, the force nearly driving me to my knees. Sparks flew as metal met the weird wood, and my muscles screamed in protest.

  Damnn that’s ridiculous strength he has…

  The bodyguard goblin roared, pulling back its club for another strike. I shifted my weight, dodging to the side as the weapon smashed into the ground, cracking the blood-soaked earth. Dust and blood sprayed into the air, stinging my eyes, but I pushed through the sting and drove my blade toward its exposed side.

  It parried the blow with surprising speed, its armor clanging as my sword glanced off the metal. But this was what I’d been waiting for. With my left hand, I swung my second blade upward in a sharp, controlled arc, aiming for its throat.

  The goblin roared again, and for a split second, I thought I’d won. My blade was inches from its neck—

  Then the air around it rippled, and a shockwave exploded outward.

  “Shit!” The force slammed into me, throwing me back several meters. My body skidded across the ground, the rough surface tearing at my clothes and skin. Pain flared in my side as I rolled to a stop, coughing and struggling to catch my breath.

  The MFing goblin was transforming.

  Fuck…innate ability…bloodline or an essence…

  It swelled in size, its muscles bulging grotesquely as crimson veins pulsed across its skin like molten rivers. Its eyes glowed with a hellish red light, locking onto me with murderous intent.

  “Wonderful, Just what I need when I don’t have fucking time!” I muttered, spitting blood from my mouth as I pushed myself to my feet. My body protested every movement, but there was no time to rest. The goblin’s roar was deafening, a primal sound that made the ground tremble.

  Above us, the blood sphere pulsed faster, the thunderous cracks growing louder. The pressure in the air was almost suffocating now, as if the ritual was devouring everything around it.

  “It’s a damn race against time” I growled, tightening my grip on my swords. “And I’m fucking losing.”

  The goblin charged, its enormous body moving with alarming speed. Its club came down in a diagonal sweep, and I barely managed to sidestep the blow. The wind from its swing was enough to make my hair whip around my face.

  I retaliated with a quick slash to its side, but my blade barely scratched its hardened skin. It snarled, swinging its club horizontally. I ducked, the weapon passing inches above my head.

  “Too close,” I muttered, my heart pounding.

  I couldn’t fight this thing head-on. It was too strong, too durable. I needed a way to end this quickly—or at least slow it down long enough to deal with the ritual.

  The goblin swung again, this time feinting low before bringing the club around in a brutal uppercut. I jumped back, my boots skidding on the blood-slick ground.

  The goblin roared again, charging at me with reckless abandon. Its movements were faster now, more aggressive, as if the ritual was feeding it power.

  Come on, think Lexi…

  HOUSE OF END DISCORD

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