Chapter Twenty-Four:

  “Battle at the Bay”

  The Drifting Lantern shook.

  John’s eyes snapped open.

  A low groan rolled through the inn, followed by a distant sound like thunder, but sharper, hungrier. His body moved before thought. He threw off the blanket and dropped to the floor, heart already racing.

  Another tremor hit.

  Not just the building. The air. The sea. The world.

  He reached the balcony in three steps and yanked open the doors.

  The sky was cracking.

  Above Pearl Bay, the barrier—fractured, flickering—now split in slow, jagged lines. Golden veins of magic snapped apart one by one like sinew giving under pressure. The glow wasn’t just dimming. It was dying.

  Yumi joined him, frozen. Rai and Akira appeared on the balcony nearby moments later. Both staring up at the sky.

  Akira, blade already in hand. “That’s not good.”

  RW's voice cut in from the hall, sharp and grim. “Cataclysmic Event Detected. Barrier collapse in—”

  The barrier flared brighter than ever.

  Then came the sound.

  The barrier screamed.

  Magic ripped itself apart with a wail that wasn’t sound but pressure, crawling into the bones and cracking them from the inside.

  And then it shattered.

  A wall of golden light blew outward across the sky, then fell in bursts, flickering and fast, scattering across the sky. John stumbled back, shielding his face. Heat washed over them.

  From the sea John could see them.

  The ships were coming.

  Thousands. Hulls twisted by Corruption. Sails burning without flame. Waters blackening beneath them.

  The Dread Tide led the charge.

  “Go,” John said, voice low. “Now.”

  They ran.

  As they hit the common room, it was already chaos. The floor shook. Smoke seeped from the walls. Villagers scrambled for weapons. Warabi barked orders through the noise: “Defensive lines to the harbor! If the bay falls, fall back to Kagemura!”

  Another flash lit the windows. Then the first volley hit.

  Purple light streaked across the sky.

  The harbor exploded.

  A tower collapsed in flame. A market square disappeared in smoke. Stone folded like paper.

  John didn’t wait. He drew the Twin Fangs and followed the others out into the fire.

  Pearl Bay burned.

  John emerged into a nightmare. The streets he had walked just hours before were now lit by fire and cannon-light. Nekomijin warriors clashed with Corrupted monstrosities between shattered stalls and upturned boats. Arrows flew from rooftops. Magic flared in bursts. And still, more poured in from the sea.

  The barrier was gone. Nothing stood between the Thousand Isles and the end.

  Kei and Haru flanked John as they ran toward the harbor. Their eyes locked on the surge of enemies coming ashore. Not soldiers—creatures. Once-human things, twisted by centuries of dark magic. They screamed without voices, swung weapons made from bone and rusted metal. Some had no faces. Some had too many.

  A Corrupted warrior lunged from an alley, blade raised. John met it mid-charge. The Twin Fangs burned bright, cutting through flesh and steel in one motion. The thing crumpled without a sound.

  He didn’t pause. Another came. Then two more.

  To his right, Haru dropped low and slashed through the legs of a creature three times her size. It fell in time for Kei to vault over its back and drive his blade down between its shoulders.

  The three of them moved as one. No time to speak. Only to act.

  Akira joined them at the dock, his expression grim. Blood marked one shoulder. Not his. “We hold the line here,” he said. “If they take the docks, we lose everything.”

  John nodded. “Then we don’t let them.”

  RW soared overhead in a streak of blue light, flames flaring to life along the edges of her body. “Reinforcements are en route,” she shouted. “Kagemura is moving!”

  Yumi dropped into the fray beside John, a blur of claws and fury. Her obsidian nails caught the neck of a Corrupted brute before it could reach him, and she shoved it back with one clean motion. "Miss me?" she muttered, not waiting for a response.

  Rai moved through the air like a windstorm given form. Her fans flicked open and closed in bursts of silver and blue, cutting down anything in her path. Wind magic spiraled around her ankles, lifting her just above the battlefield as she spun to deflect an incoming spear.

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  John exhaled, grounding himself between them. Now it felt real.

  “Not fast enough,” Akira muttered, slicing through another attacker.

  The docks shook.

  Something massive hit the shoreline.

  From the water, a towering beast emerged—a Corrupted fusion of whale and fortress, its body lined with jagged iron and leaking black steam. Warriors poured from its spine like insects from a corpse.

  Haru stared. “What the hell is that?”

  RW’s voice dropped. “Spawn Whale.”

  John moved without pause. He dashed forward, flames igniting across his blades.

  The others followed.

  They fought not just for Pearl Bay. They fought for time. For every breath that might bring reinforcements. For the slim chance that they could hold the line.

  From the cliffs above, the Yama-Okami began to arrive.

  At the front rode Takeshi and Kaori, their massive mounts leaping down the cliffside like thunder given shape. Blades flashed at their sides, faces set with unshakable resolve.

  Behind them, wolf-mounted warriors rode the winds, blades drawn. Arrows lit with foxfire rained from the heavens. Takeshi’s voice rang out over the clash: “Strike now! While they break!”

  They fought together.

  John felt something shift.

  For a moment, they were no longer losing.

  For a moment, they stood together.

  Hope returned in the form of steel, flame, and fury.

  But above them, the Dread Tide loomed. Watching.

  And it had not yet moved.

  The tide didn’t turn. It stalled.

  For every beast they cut down, two more pulled themselves out of the sea.

  John pressed forward through smoke and ruin, every swing of the Twin Fangs a defiance. Foxfire scorched through corrupted flesh. Screams filled the air—both human and not. His arms ached. His breath came in gasps. But he didn’t stop.

  None of them did.

  Beside him, Akira moved with brutal clarity, each strike efficient, final. Rai danced between the gaps, wind magic sharpening every fan sweep into a blade. Yumi tore through a cluster of enemies, her claws flashing in the gloom, her breathing steady, focused. Haru and Kei fought back to back, their rhythm unbroken even as the ground cracked beneath them.

  A shriek echoed above.

  The Dread Tide moved.

  Vassoth’s flagship turned broadside.

  Cannons lined with corruption began to glow.

  RW screamed across the sky, her voice jagged. “Energy spike! Everyone fall back!”

  Too late.

  The shot fired.

  The air broke.

  A column of black fire slammed into the harbor.

  Buildings disappeared. The ground exploded upward. John was thrown like a rag doll, his vision going white with pain. His back hit something hard. Then the ground.

  Silence.

  He blinked through dust. The docks were gone. Fire licked at the remains of what used to be the Lantern’s neighboring structures. Figures crawled through rubble. Others didn’t move at all.

  He tried to push up. Failed. His hand shook.

  RW landed beside him, body flickering, eyes wide. “He’s coming.”

  John followed her gaze.

  At the bow of the Dread Tide stood a figure in black armor, glowing with a kind of wrong. The air seemed to fold around him. The sea receded.

  Then Vassoth leapt.

  He landed in the wreckage with the sound of a landslide, cracking stone beneath his feet. Smoke swirled around him, curling with every slow, purposeful step.

  John forced himself to stand. Pain roared through his side, but he kept going.

  Vassoth’s gaze locked on him.

  “Still standing,” the corrupted lord rasped. “Good. I’d hate to kill a ghost.”

  John’s grip tightened on the hilts of his blades.

  Vassoth took a single step forward.

  The air warped around him. His weapon, a Corrupted spear, pulsed once, then he drove it into the earth.

  The world convulsed.

  A shockwave of black energy surged outward, hurling warriors back. Veins of darkness slithered from the impact point, crawling outward, warping the earth beneath their feet.

  John staggered. His knees buckled. The Twin Fangs trembled in his grip, spectral fire dimming as the corruption tried to drown it out.

  Behind him, Akira caught his balance, teeth clenched. “He’s tainting the whole field.”

  Yumi forced herself upright, her claws glowing with stubborn Foxfire. “Then we change the field.”

  A howl cut through the chaos.

  John’s head turned—on the cliffs, new shapes gathered.

  The final wave had arrived.

  More Yama-Okami warriors descended the slopes, blades flashing. Kitsune archers loosed arrows that burned with ancient spells. Humans clad in layered armor rushed in with swords and spears. Among them were Players—from the Tokyo camp, their eyes hard and tired but unafraid.

  The tide surged again. Around John and the others, the battlefield roared.

  Takeshi and Kaori broke off from the charge, flanking toward the Corrupted tide. Haru and Kei joined them. They formed the front of the defense, creating a wall of blades and fury.

  John felt the shift. The circle was forming.

  They were buying them time, giving him and the others a chance.

  Akira stepped beside him. Rai hovered slightly behind, wind magic coiling like tension in a bowstring. Yumi exhaled beside him, her claws catching fire again. RW dropped into place, her flames burning brighter than they had in days, eyes fixed on Vassoth. "I hate this guy already," she muttered.

  Vassoth sneered. “You gather like insects. You think you can stop inevitability?”

  No one answered.

  John stepped forward, fire climbing the length of both blades.

  He broke into a sprint.

  Yumi, Rai, and Akira fell in beside him—not behind. Together, they hit the line like a blade drawn through shadow.

  John’s blades led the charge, cutting clean through the first wave of corruption. Rai flanked right, her fan spinning into a storm. Akira dove left, his katana flashing in surgical arcs. Yumi went low, her claws carving upward with wild, precise fury.

  Vassoth met them in full.

  His spear crashed down like thunder, blasting stone and sending up sparks. John deflected the strike with both blades, staggering under the force. Rai swept in, sending a whip of wind through his guard. Akira followed, carving deep into Vassoth’s armor.

  Yumi vaulted off the fractured earth and struck high—only to be caught mid-air. Vassoth hurled her across the battlefield.

  “Yumi!” John shouted.

  She rolled, gasping, but rose again, staggering.

  Then came the chant.

  The elders of the Okami, Kitsune, and Nekomijin stood behind the front lines, their voices rising in harmony. Ancient language. Sacred rhythm.

  The chant took hold.

  A golden glow shimmered from the ground, tracing through the cracks in the stone, forcing back the black tendrils of Corruption. Every word woven by the elders pushed against the dark like a tide. Where the ground had warped, it began to heal. Where the air had twisted, it cleared. Light wasn’t just pushing—it was purifying.

  The ground shook again. Vassoth slammed his spear down once more, but the chant didn’t stop.

  John saw the opening.

  He surged forward.

  The Twin Fangs ignited. One blade struck true, sinking into Vassoth’s shoulder. The second followed, carving down his side.

  Vassoth roared.

  The corruption around him erupted, but this time—it was forced back.

  Not by power.

  By unity.

  Vassoth struck.

  His spear whipped outward in a brutal arc, and the blast caught Akira square in the chest. He went flying.

  Rai rushed forward to cover him—too late. A tendril of corruption lashed out, curling around her waist and slamming her into the stone. She didn’t rise.

  John turned, blades up—just in time to meet the full force of a downward strike.

  The impact cracked the ground beneath him. Pain exploded through his ribs. He gasped, stumbling back, one knee hitting the dirt.

  Across the chaos, Yumi stood alone.

  “Fall back to Kagemura!” John shouted, voice raw.

  The lines broke—but in order. Defenders fell back. The wolves returned. Riders mounted. Smoke curled upward into the stars.

  John turned—Yumi was still standing. Barely.

  He leapt onto the back of a wolf and reached for her.

  Their hands met.

  Behind them, another wolf bounded out of the smoke. Rai pulled herself into the saddle with a grunt, one arm clutched across her ribs. Akira was already astride, blood on his jaw, but his grip on the reins was steady. They fell into formation behind John and Yumi without a word.

  And together, they fled.

  Behind them, Vassoth laughed.

  “Run, then. Run to your final sanctuary. Sterling is coming. And your world will drown.”

  Pearl Bay was gone.