Chapter 141: 141. Anchor Points

The amulet sat on the war table, dark and dormant.

Owen had held it a hundred times since Azmireth’s death. Turned it over. Studied its markings. Pushed mana into it, will into it, even blood into it. Nothing. He’d assumed it was dead, its connection to Vorthraxx severed when its wielder fell.

Now, with Solhart’s words still hanging in the air, he reached for it again.

This time was different.

His fingers closed around the cold metal, and something answered. Royal dragon king bloodline, Dominus’s legacy. The three fragments that had made him whole now. It recognized this artifact.

The amulet blazed to life.

Light erupted from its surface, not purple, not demonic, but gold. Dragon gold. Dominus’s gold. The same light that had blazed from the Dragon King’s scales when he sealed his son away.

Owen’s vision dissolved.

—

He stood in darkness, a darkness of a place that had never known light. The prison dimension. A cage built by a father who loved his son too much to kill him.

And at its center, Vorthraxx waited.

He was barely recognizable now. The crimson scales that had once gleamed like fire were blackened, cracked, leaking a purple light instead of golden. His wings were tattered, his horns broken, his eyes—his eyes were still golden, still burning, still his.

“You found me, Brother” Vorthraxx said. His voice was distant, echoing, as if coming from the other end of a tunnel that was collapsing.

“Just your anchor points,” Owen said. “The places where the seal touches reality. The places where we can reinforce your seals.”

“You can’t reinforce this, Brother” Vorthraxx moved closer, and the darkness moved with him. “I’ve been here a thousand years, brother. A thousand years of nothing. No light. No sound. No touch. Just me and my thoughts and the endless weight of what I did. While communicating with demon king through that one amulet”

“Then let us help you. Let us…”

“Help me?” Vorthraxx laughed. It was not a kind laugh. “You can’t help me. You can’t save me. The only thing you can do is delay what’s coming. And that’s not for me. It’s for you. For them. For everyone who needs more time to prepare for my second coming.”

The darkness pressed closer. The vision began to fade.

“The anchor points are weak,” Vorthraxx said. “I’ve been wearing them down for centuries. My generals have been wearing them down from your side. In days…maybe hours…they’ll break. And When they do, I’ll be free. You better be prepared for me…brother”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s gonna be. we’ll be ready.”

“Will you?” Vorthraxx’s eyes held his. “I’ve had a thousand to prepare. A thousand years to plan what I’ll do when I get out.” His voice softened. “I would prefer not to fight you, brother. But…if I must, then I will. And when I do, I won’t stop. Not until everything that made this world is turned to ash and memories.”

The vision shattered.

—

Owen came back to himself in the war chamber, the amulet dark in his grip, everyone staring.

“What did you see?” Yuki asked.

“Vorthraxx. The seal. The anchor points.” He looked at Hilda. “How fast can you mobilize?”

She was already moving. “The stabilizers are calibrated. The purification arrays are ready. If you can show me where to go—”

“I can show you.” Owen spread the map. His claws traced lines across the continents—lines that hadn’t been there before, lines that glowed with the same gold light that had blazed from the amulet. “Three anchor points. Three places where the seal touches our world. Three chances to buy us more time.”

“The demonic continent border,” Caelen breathed, pointing at the first mark. “That’s—”

“The weakest point,” Owen said. “The closest to the seal. The most dangerous.”

“Demonic corrupted beasts have been gathering there for months,” Solhart said. “We thought it was random. Opportunistic. But they were drawn to the anchor. Feeding it energy. Weakening it.”

“Then we cut them off.” Alfred’s hand was already on his shield. “We go in. We reinforce the anchor. We get out.”

“It won’t be that simple.” Owen looked at the other marks. “The demon generals seeded their forces at every anchor point. They knew we’d come eventually. They’ve been preparing for this fight since Vorthraxx was sealed.”

“Then we prepare harder.” Leah’s mane blazed, gold light filling the chamber. “We’ve killed their generals. We’ve broken their many of armies. We can break a few anchor guards.”

—

They left within the hour.

The first anchor point was in the frozen north, buried beneath a mountain that had been sacred to the dwarves before the war. Hilda led them through tunnels her ancestors had carved, past statues of kings who’d died fighting demons, past the bones of warriors who’d held the line when the first rifts opened.

The guards were waiting.

Demonic constructs. Probably remnants of Gornak’s necromancy, given form and purpose. They rose from the walls, from the floor, from the very stone that had been meant to protect the anchor. Hundreds of them. Thousands.

Solhart moved first. His sword cut through the first rank like light through shadow. Alfred followed, shield raised, clearing a path. Leah’s transformation blazed, her claws tearing through corrupted metal, her roar echoing off ancient stone.

Owen went for the anchor.

It was a pillar of light, buried in the mountain’s heart, pulsing with the same gold that had blazed from the amulet. But it was cracked. Leaking. Vorthraxx’s influence had seeped through, blackening the stone around it, weakening the bonds that held it together.

Owen pressed his hands to the pillar. The Dragon King’s bloodline surged through him, through the anchor, through the seal itself. For a moment, he felt Vorthraxx on the other side—felt his surprise, his grief, his rage.

“Brother—!”

But Owen pushed harder. The cracks sealed. The light stabilized and the connection cut off.

He pulled back, gasping.

The constructs were crumbling. Without the anchor’s corruption to sustain them, they were just stone and metal, dead things that had been given borrowed life.

Solhart appeared beside him. “One down.”

“Two to go.”

—

The second anchor was in the eastern sea, buried beneath miles of water that had been sacred to the beastfolk before the war. They dove through currents that had swallowed ships, past reefs that had been coral once and were now something else, through waters that grew darker and colder the deeper they went.

The guards were different here. Not constructs, but beings. Corrupted leviathans that had been sleeping since the first war, woken by Vorthraxx’s influence, set to guard the anchor that held him in his cage.

They fought in the deep.

Owen transformed, his dragon form barely equal to the creatures that rose from the abyss. Leah swam beside him, her transformation blazing in the dark. Odessa’s Azure Sky Dragon found the water to be part of its natural territory, its breath freezing the leviathans where they struck.

Yuki found the anchor at the trench’s bottom, buried in sediment that had been undisturbed for millennia. Uru, back in her slime form, clung to Yuki’s head in a blob, acting as an air pod for her to breath in.

“Uru,” Yuki said. “Can you—”

The Slime transformed. Not into the little girl who’d laughed in Yuki’s arms, but into something Monstrous. A mimicry of the leviathans, She drove through with Yuki within her and smashed through to the anchor point, Then Activated Dragon-King Blood Resonance (SS-Grade)] that doubled her power and then all the corruption that had seeped into it flowed into her instead, through her, out of her, until the anchor was clean.

The leviathans fled.

Owen surfaced, Yuki pulled herself onto the rocks beside him. Uru was a child again, asleep in her arms.

“One more” Yuki said.

—

The third anchor was at the edge of the world.

They’d flown for days, past the last human cities, past the beastfolk territories, past the elven forests and the dwarven mountains and the lands that had been empty since before any of their races were born.

The demonic continent rose on the horizon—a wound in the world, sealed by the Will’s power, leaking corruption that had been poisoning the sea for a thousand years. And at its edge, where the seal was weakest, where the Will’s power had been worn thin by centuries of erosion, the third anchor waited.

The “guards” were not constructs. Not leviathans. They were demons. True demons and demonic beasts, who had somehow luckily seeped out of the seal cause of the weakening.

They attacked as soon as Owen’s group crossed into the dead zone.

There were hundreds of them. Thousands. They poured from the corrupted earth, from the poisoned sea, from the sky itself, and they fought with the desperation of creatures who knew this was their only chance to break their master free.

Owen fought with everything he had. His fire burned through their ranks. His claws tore through their armor. His Sovereignty of Space-Time froze them in place, shattered them, scattered them across the dead landscape.

But there were always more.

Yuki fought beside him, her katanas flashing, Uru’s scales protecting her from blows that would have killed anyone else. Leah’s transformation was a blaze of gold in the grey waste. Alfred’s shield was a wall that nothing could breach. Odessa’s dragon rained death from above.

And still, they kept coming.

Solhart found the anchor first. It was buried in the base of a cliff, He pressed his hand to the stone. Felt the corruption that had seeped into it. Felt the weight of a thousand years of erosion.

“Owen!” he called. “It’s failing!”

Owen cut through the last rank of demons and landed beside him.

The anchor was shattered. Not cracked—shattered. The light that should have been gold was purple and black.

“Can we save it?” Owen asked.

Solhart’s face was grim. “We… can buy time.”

Owen pressed his hands to the stone.

The Dragon King’s bloodline surged through him and mana flowed through the anchor, through the seal itself. And on the other side, Vorthraxx felt it. Heard it and Answered.

“Brother.” His voice was closer now. The seal was so thin. “You can’t hold it. You know you can’t.”

“I can hold it long enough.”

“For what? For them to build their armies? To prepare for a war they can’t win?”

Owen pushed harder. The cracks in the anchor began to seal. The purple light began to fade. “To give them time. To give everyone time.”

“Time for what? To tell their loved ones goodbyes?”

Owen thought about the Hatchery. About the eggs that were forming in its nests. About the dragons who would hatch, who would grow, who would live in a world that would be at peace. About Yuki. About Leah. About everyone who had followed him this far.

“Time to live!” he said. “Time to be something other than soldiers.” He looked at the anchor, at the light that was gold again, at the seal that was holding, for now. “Time to prove that this world is worth saving.”

The anchor sealed.

The demons crumbled.

And on the other side, Vorthraxx was silent.

—

They made camp at the edge of the dead zone after killing of the demonic beasts that remained while some others retreated back into the sealed continent voluntarily.

They were close enough to watch the anchor, far enough to breathe air that didn’t taste like poison.

Hilda was checking her devices. Caelen was writing something in a journal. Odessa’s dragon was curled around her, sleeping. Alfred was making tea.

Uru was in her child form again, asleep in Yuki’s arms.

“How long?” Leah asked.

Owen didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Months. Maybe less. The seal is old. The anchors were weak. We’ve bought time, but not enough.”

“Then we use it.” Solhart sat beside him, his sword across his knees, his eyes on the horizon. “We will build faster, train harder. We prepare more efficiently. And when he comes, we fight ready.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s never been simple.” He looked at Owen. “But you’ve done something no one else has managed since Dominus sealed him away. You’ve given us a chance. That’s more than anyone had a right to expect.”

The camp settled into silence.

Owen watched the anchor’s light pulse in the distance, steady now, waiting. Somewhere beyond it, Vorthraxx was waiting too. Counting the days. Planning his return.

But for now, the seal would hold.

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