Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System-Chapter 510: Sixth Floor: The Chamber of Seven Seas (27)
Without missing a beat, Cyrus surged forward, his trident striking with unrelenting force. He used his endurance and grit to absorb the punishment, focusing on turning the Warfiends' energy against them. Every clash of their tridents, every vibration of dark magic, was met with a calculated defense and a counterattack that kept the enemy on the back foot.
As the battle continued to escalate, the trio began to rely more heavily on their cooperative tactics. Sylus, from his aerial vantage point, would create barriers of ice and air to separate the monsters and keep them from overwhelming their position. Jesua, agile as ever, used these barriers to her advantage, slipping in between them to strike precisely at vulnerable points. Meanwhile, Cyrus kept the enemy in check, his electric pulses both disrupting their movements and acting as a warning signal to his teammates when another monster was about to strike.
The three of them had developed a deadly rhythm, each covering for the other's weak spots. They were a well-oiled machine, their tactics flawless. Every movement was calculated, every strike timed to perfection. The trio had found their flow, and with it, they had begun to push back against the massive tide of enemies, dealing blow after blow, keeping the monsters from overwhelming them.
The tide of battle had shifted—the monsters had stopped gaining ground. The trio was slowly, methodically, starting to whittle them down—and they were ready for whatever came next.
The battle raged on, an unrelenting storm of monstrous threats, but the trio refused to let the tide of darkness swallow them whole. Tactics, precision, and unwavering trust in each other became their greatest assets as they stood against the relentless onslaught of enemies summoned by the cosmic eye overhead.
Sylus, quick and resourceful, used his powers to dictate the flow of battle from a distance. His speed, bolstered by his air and ice abilities, made him a hard target to pin down. He darted and weaved through the water with fluid precision, taking advantage of his ranged capabilities to keep the Void Maw Horrors at bay. Each time one of the monstrosities lunged at him, he evaded just out of range with a graceful sidestep. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned blasts of compressed air, sending them flying back and buying himself precious seconds to maneuver around the battlefield.
But he didn't simply evade—he attacked. Ice spikes erupted from the ocean floor at his command, impaling any Void Maw that came too close. The ice wall he created prevented the horrors from surrounding him, slowing their advance. But it wasn't just about keeping them away—it was about creating openings. Each ice projectile Sylus hurled was designed to force the Void Maws to move in specific directions, breaking their patterns and causing them to crash into each other. Sylus took advantage of their confusion, picking off the slow-moving ones with ice lances or freezing their tendrils mid-reach, buying his team more time.
Every attack he made, every burst of magic, was calculated. He didn't just use his abilities to stop the enemies, he controlled their movements, setting traps and manipulating the battlefield to prevent the overwhelming numbers from closing in.
On the frontlines, Jesua was the living embodiment of precision and aggression. Her radiant blade gleamed in the murky waters, a beacon of light in a sea of darkness. When the Flesh Ripper Behemoths bore down on her, she didn't hesitate. She used the monsters' sheer mass against them, constantly staying several steps ahead. As one of the Behemoths swung its heavy, armored tail in her direction, Jesua dived low, letting the tail pass overhead, narrowly avoiding its deadly strike.
With a surge of energy, she vaulted upward, her blade glowing with radiant power, and delivered a devastating slash to the Behemoth's underbelly, exposing its vulnerable flesh. But the Behemoth's defense was tough, its thick armor deflecting much of the blow. Jesua's instinct kicked in. She didn't give the creature the chance to recover—she used the momentum of her attack to spin around its tail, staying behind it, and cut into its spinal region with another lethal strike.
But the Flesh Rippers were relentless. After each attack, Jesua was forced to dart out of range of their retaliations. She used the water's flow to propel herself at inhuman speeds, striking only when she was sure the creature's movements were too slow to intercept her. The Behemoths' heavy limbs couldn't keep up, and Jesua expertly cut through their defenses, her blade pulsing with divine light as she carved into the hardened armor. Radiant magic flowed through her strikes, breaking the bones beneath the toughened exterior. She wasn't just dealing damage—she was shattering their will to fight.
Jesua also displayed remarkable teamwork. As Sylus struggled to maintain control of the Void Maw Horrors, she saw an opening. She leaped through the fray, her blade slashing horizontally to create a path, clearing space for Sylus to retreat. When she saw him engage with the Void Maw, she immediately recognized the pattern and carved through the Behemoth's line to assist him. Jesua was a force of nature, a whirlwind that cleared paths, disoriented enemies, and gave Sylus the breathing room he needed to control the battlefield.
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Cyrus, ever the anchor of the trio, drew the attention of the Abyssal Warfiends with an unwavering resolve. The Warfiends were the most dangerous of their enemies—shadowy, flickering creatures with the power to phase in and out of existence. Their ability to phase made them unpredictable, and they had the tridents capable of dealing devastating damage.
But Cyrus had faced such odds before. He wasn't intimidated. As a Warfiend rushed him, its trident crackling with dark energy, he raised his own weapon in defiance, meeting the fiend's attack with an explosive clash. The shockwaves reverberated through the water, sending ripples across the battlefield. But just as he expected, the Warfiend phased out, disappearing from view.
Cyrus didn't hesitate. His instincts told him where the Warfiend would appear next. The moment it materialized behind him, he swung his trident with deadly force. The Warfiend was unprepared for the blow, and Cyrus's trident ripped through the creature's shadowy form with a burst of crimson lightning. The Warfiend staggered back, temporarily stunned.
But Cyrus knew the Warfiends weren't so easily defeated. They phased in and out, their attacks so quick they seemed like shadows, and their tridents were capable of cutting through steel. In the next moment, another Warfiend phased into the water behind him, striking with vicious speed. Cyrus barely managed to block its trident with a powerful jolt of electricity, sending the fiend reeling, but the next attack came fast. To counteract their relentless barrage, Cyrus used his trident's length to his advantage, weaving the weapon through a series of fluid defensive motions. With every strike, he moved like a storm, using his surroundings and the Warfiends' aggressive nature to drive them into unfavorable positions.
Every time a Warfiend lunged at him, Cyrus stepped to the side, drawing them into his traps. With the next swing, he would use the enemy's own aggression to redirect their attacks, exposing weak points in their defenses. He would often use his lightning pulses to briefly disrupt their phasing ability, forcing them into the physical realm, leaving them vulnerable for just a moment. Those precious seconds were enough for him to launch his own counterattack, delivering powerful strikes that shattered their shadowy forms.
As the trio continued to fight, they realized that each of their roles was critical to the survival of the group. Sylus's control of the space around them kept the Void Maw Horrors from overwhelming them. Jesua's precision and speed allowed her to cut through enemy defenses, always staying one step ahead. Cyrus's resilience and brute force absorbed the hardest blows and punished the Warfiends for their aggression. Their teamwork was impeccable—each move was timed to perfection, and when one of them needed help, the others were there.
But the pressure never stopped. The cosmic eye above them continued to conjure more horrors, the darkness encroaching on them from every direction. Despite the constant tide of enemies, the trio's coordination kept them from being overwhelmed. They adapted to the flow of battle with each passing moment, anticipating the next move, the next wave, and the next attack.
Exhaustion was beginning to set in, but their resolve was unbreakable. With each fallen monster, more took its place, but the trio held firm. They were survivors, bound by an unspoken promise: to fight until their last breath, until the very end. And with each swing of their weapons, each blast of magic, and each act of coordination, they carved out their place in the battle, determined not to falter, not to surrender.
As the cosmic eye above pulsed, its energy seemed to tear the very fabric of space apart. From the dark rift, the Shattered Heralds of Nightmares emerged—each one more monstrous than the last. These were not simply physical creatures; they were abominations borne from twisted nightmares, their forms fragmented and disjointed as if reality itself struggled to maintain their existence.
