He cut through it with holy power, but it cost him precious seconds.

Twenty specialists cast Curse Barrage - hundreds of minor curses launched simultaneously, each individually weak but collectively overwhelming.

Seraphelle’s Divine Sanctuary intercepted most, but some got through. Gattychan felt curses of pain, weakness, exhaustion stacking on him. Individually trivial. Together, significant.

Fifteen specialists cast Decay Aura - creating zones where metal corroded and flesh aged rapidly.

Gattychan’s armor began deteriorating. Seraphelle’s healing countered the aging effect but had to work constantly.

And still the three coordinators maintained the network, directing seventy-seven mages with single-minded precision.

The battle evolved into desperate attrition.

The heroes fought to break the network while avoiding overwhelming damage from coordinated casting.

The specialists fought to hold the network together while buying every second of time they could.

Ten Minutes into the Battle:

Gattychan had killed eight specialists through sustained assault, his blessed sword cutting down mages who couldn’t dodge fast enough. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

But sixty-nine remained networked, and the coordinators kept reorganizing the formation to compensate for losses.

Seraphelle was exhausted from maintaining constant healing and protection, her divine power straining under the sustained workload.

Mikazelle had collapsed two sections of the formation through dimensional attacks, killing five more specialists.

Rindelle had fired twelve amplified arrows, each one forcing the specialists to divert significant power to defensive shields.

But the network held. And the specialists kept fighting with desperate coordination.

Kael’shiva, maintaining the network through sheer will, felt the strain of coordinating sixty-nine minds. "We can’t sustain this much longer! The network is degrading! We’ve lost too many nodes!"

"How long can we hold?" Dreth’kael asked through the mental link.

"Five more minutes maximum! After that, the network collapses and we fight individually!"

"Then we make those five minutes count!"

This was the final escalation - a desperate tactic they’d held in reserve.

All sixty-nine remaining specialists began channeling their life force directly into their spells, burning their very essence to increase magical power beyond normal limits.

It was slow suicide. Each second of life-force channeling aged them, weakened them, killed them gradually.

But it amplified their unified casting to unprecedented levels.

The Corruption Maelstrom intensified, growing from purple-black hurricane to something approaching natural disaster. Even at one-tenth power under Gattychan’s suppression, the life-force enhanced version was devastating.

The maelstrom struck Seraphelle’s Divine Sanctuary with force that cracked the golden barriers.

"I can’t hold this!" Seraphelle screamed, her divine power faltering under the onslaught. "They’re burning their lives for power! The corruption is too strong!"

Gattychan made a command decision. "Mikazelle! Teleport us out of the maelstrom’s center! Now!"

Space folded. The four heroes vanished and rematerialized two hundred yards away, outside the maelstrom’s immediate area of effect.

From that safer distance, they watched the corruption specialists continue their life-force burning technique.

The specialists’ bodies were visibly aging - skin wrinkling, hair graying, flesh withering as they converted years of life into magical power.

They were killing themselves to maintain the attack.

"They’re insane," Rindelle whispered with horror. "They’re burning their own lives just to keep us at bay for a few more minutes."

"They’re buying time," Gattychan corrected grimly. "Every second we’re here fighting them is a second we’re not at Third Line supporting the main assault. They’re sacrificing themselves to delay us."

Mikazelle’s tactical mind calculated. "At current rate of life-force burn, they’ll all die in approximately four minutes even if we do nothing. They’ve chosen suicide over surrender."

"Then we end this mercifully," Gattychan decided. "Full power assault. We kill them quickly rather than watching them burn themselves to death slowly."

The four heroes prepared for overwhelming attack.

—--------

As Gattychan raised his blessed sword for the final assault, Seraphelle’s eyes suddenly glazed with the look of someone receiving magical communication.

Her hand went to her temple, and she stood frozen for three seconds, receiving transmission from elsewhere.

When her eyes refocused, they carried command urgency.

"Gattychan," she said sharply. "Magical transmission from Commander Elric. He’s asking why we’re wasting time out here. The main battle at Third Line is deteriorating. His field commanders are all dead from champion duels. The settlement defenders are conducting organized resistance beyond projected capacity. He needs our support immediately."

Gattychan’s jaw tightened with frustration. "We’re eliminating the corruption specialists! These mages have killed hundreds of our soldiers with their spells! We can’t leave them alive!"

"Elric says we’ve already eliminated enough specialists that the remainder pose minimal strategic threat. Two hundred dead, sixty-nine remaining who are currently burning themselves to death anyway. He wants us back at Third Line now to support the main assault and prevent further casualties to our regular forces."

The transmission was clear: Commander Elric was ordering the heroes to abandon the corruption specialist hunt and return to the primary battlefield.

Seraphelle met Gattychan’s eyes directly. "Fun’s over. A request for us to come back by Commander Elric has been issued. End it fast. We don’t have time to waste on extended combat."

Gattychan’s expression shifted from frustrated to cold and tactical.

He turned to face the sixty-nine corruption specialists—still maintaining their Formation Delta network, still burning their life force, still fighting despite knowing they were about to die.

His next words carried neither cruelty nor satisfaction. Just statement of fact.

"Sorry about this, but I don’t have time to waste on you guys anymore."

He raised his blessed sword, channeling divine power to its absolute maximum. The blade blazed like a star, holy light so intense it hurt to look at directly.

Seraphelle raised her hands, her healing magic inverting to pure destructive divine judgment.

Mikazelle created dimensional rifts throughout the specialist formation, preparing to tear space itself.

Rindelle drew her bow, activating Catastrophic Amplification beyond normal limits, preparing an arrow that would detonate with apocalyptic force.

The four heroes prepared to end the battle with overwhelming power.

------------------

At that exact moment—as the heroes prepared their devastating final attack—Kael’shiva received a mental touch through Seraphina’s telepathic network.

Her demon lord master, reaching out across the distance, making contact.