Ch 882 - The Misty Dome

"Time to die, Great One," said the master of the High sect. His silver dragon coiled its long serpentine neck and roared again.

Alex's eyes flared with light. "Let's see what you've got," he taunted. Then he stretched out his arms and his entire body glowed with golden lightning. The light flowed around him and shaped itself into the golden thunder dragon—the second of the twelve incantations.

The flap of the dragon's wings crashed with a thunderous roar, like the breaking of a storm. Bolts of golden lightning flared around it, earthing themselves with a series of crackles. Swooping into the air, it screamed and circled the courtyard.

The masters of the divine realm all attacked at once. Bolts of lightning, streaks of purple flame, and other spells shook the world as they threw their magic at the golden dragon. The dragon spun in a tight circle, and all that energy swirled in its wake, each spell wrapping itself around the others to form a twisting column of magic that struck the beast in the center of its chest.

For a moment, the thunder dragon was suspended in midair, and Alex's form hung at its center. His eyes blazed with cold fury. He was surrounded by flaring currents of magical energy in every color of the rainbow.

"Mere bugs," he said, looking at the immortals.

The light around him was swallowed into the dragon's wings and circled around him and through him for a heartbeat. And then he released it. All of it. In a single blast of primal magic that split the air with a deafening crash and a blinding flash of pure light, he turned every spell, every attack, back at the immortals of the divine realm.

**

The divine immortals' blood ran cold as they watched Alex reveal his true form. His hair blazed like a raging flame, and his skin glowed gold. He was wounded and bleeding, but the aura of power that surrounded him was stronger than ever. His eyes shone with power and disdain in equal measure.

Everyone in the citadel stared at him in disbelief. No one should have survived an attack of that magnitude. He had absorbed the kind of power that could level entire cities. It was impossible. Even on the city streets, far below the citadel, people watched in awe.

More than one immortal dropped to their knees, weeping. The question no one wanted to ask—the question no one wanted to answer—could no longer be avoided. Had Alex become a celestial immortal? It was the only explanation. The immortals of the High sect stared at this undefeatable war god with ashen faces.

Verity let out a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. Alex was her teacher, her guide. And he was a force that could shake an entire world. As she watched him, she froze when she saw a figure rise behind him. It was the master of the High sect.

The sect master hovered in the sky behind Alex, teetering on the brink of despair. His robes were tattered, and his hair disheveled. Alex's counterattack had almost destroyed him, and he was struggling to understand how the young man was still alive. The master had been at the very edge of the blast and had only barely survived.

Alex turned in midair to face him, his eyes still blazing with power. Even though he was seriously injured, his magic was unstoppable, and his rage was as terrifying as a wildfire. It could consume everything in its path. A blast of energy lanced toward the sect master, slashing at him like a blade. It would have taken off his arm if his reflexes had not saved him. He realized he did not have the strength for a straight fight, so he tried to flee. His disciples strained to cast protection spells to protect their master, and streams of fog rose to hide him from Alex's view. They were trying to cover his escape.

With a snarl, Alex followed, dropping his thunder dragon form. He created a sword made of lightning and sliced at the High sect's fog. To his mild surprise, the fog resisted his magical blade, and the sword slid along a curve of some kind. The spell being used to protect the master and his allies had created a dome of white mist that hid the High sect from sight and resisted Alex's magic. He struck it again, and the blade slid off the surface of the fog.

Inside the white, misty dome, the master let out a sigh of relief. It had been a gamble, but he knew that the dome would not have held if Alex had maintained the thunder dragon form. He had suspected that Alex's inexperience and emotional state would force him to drop the form to attack with a more conventional approach. As powerful as he was, Alex could not have known to channel the power of his thunder dragon form to break through the High sect's spell.

The dome shook once more, and the master forced down the unfamiliar chill of fear working its way down his spine. He quashed the brief worry that he might find himself begging Alex for mercy. His defenses were secure, so it was time for him to play offense.

He took a deep breath and called out to the immortals inside the dome with him. "He's strong, but he's injured," he shouted. "He'll use up power trying to break through the spell. Be ready to attack!"

The others nodded, their eyes glistening with fear and excitement. Those not concentrating on maintaining the dome prepared themselves for the attack.

After his third strike, Alex realized that he wasn't getting anywhere just slashing at the mist, so he curled his lightning around his fist and sent it in a single bolt to the top of the dome itself. It hit the dome like an arrow, and he felt the entire construct shudder. There was a deafening crack as a second bolt slammed into the same spot. With a scream, he sent a third down and watched the whole construct shake violently. With a shout of rage, he sent another, this one blindingly bright and full of every drop of anger he felt coursing through his body. This last bolt broke through, and the dome started to shatter like the shell of an egg.

The sect master's eyes glowed red. "Close that gap," he shouted. His disciples were sweating profusely under the strain of keeping the shield intact. They muttered spells under their breath to shore up the hole in their defenses before Alex could take advantage of it. Several of the immortals huddling under the shield felt their hearts thud in their chests as they began to panic. None of them had anticipated that Alex would hold out for this long, and his power terrified them.

There was another shout from Alex, a wordless battle cry, as he sent another searing bolt into the dome. The earth shook around them, and they watched cracks begin to form along the sides of the shield. It was clear that the spell was failing.

The dome began to dissolve, and the mist started to clear. Alex was visible to the immortals now, and they were visible to him. A victorious grin split his sweating face.

"Stop him," shrieked the master.

Seven or eight of his disciples leaped into the air, their own shielding ready. They wouldn't be able to stop Alex, but they might slow him down long enough for the shield to be reinforced. Alex watched the cracks in the mist begin to seal and smiled. He was betting they wouldn't be able to close the shield too many more times.

He had used up so much of his power that he wasn't healing anymore, and he felt wounds that had already begun to heal reopen. A warm trickle of blood began to pour from a jagged cut on his back, but he pushed away the pain and clenched his jaw. He was ready to end this once and for all.

"Take a moment, Great One," called the master, his tone mocking. "Before you unleash your power again, you might consider something you've lost."

The mist cleared away from the shield and left it clear as glass.

Alex's heart sank when he saw the master standing in the middle of the dome with Maya. He had her arm pinned behind her back as he glared at Alex. "Or are you not worried about what happens to her?"