The Earth trembled. Draven felt the waves through the Chainbreaker's Link, a visceral connection to Malvorn's magnitude. The Magnitude 6.0 earthquake was radiating outward from the battle zone.
Thornhaven was struck first. The town where hundreds of refugees had found shelter was shaking violently. Buildings swayed, and panic spread. The continental scale of the combat meant that cities and settlements across the Southern Wild were feeling the tremor, suffering structural damage and terror.
This was the terrifying cost of Overlord combat. Not a local skirmish, but a continental crisis. The collateral damage was unavoidable, horrifying, and yet necessary, because letting the Pseudo-Overlord rampage unchecked was the greater catastrophe.
The fight had to continue.
---
Azurath did not slow down. He maintained his altitude, exploiting his aerial superiority, and then activated the Featherstorm.
His wings spread, and seemingly trillions of razor-sharp feathers launched from his body. They were charged with anti-resonant energy, capable of disrupting elemental magic. A cloud of death descended, blotting out the light and falling like apocalyptic hail.
"Stone Legion!" Draven commanded instantly, his tactical assessment sharp. "Physical shields! Feathers are matter—the Earth can block matter! Create a titan army to intercept the projectiles!"
Malvorn executed the command immediately. The Earth rose, rock forming fifty massive constructs, each ten meters tall and three meters thick. They were positioned strategically, covering every angle.
The feathers struck the stone. Billions impacted, slicing and attempting to pierce. The anti-resonant energy was formidable, but stone was pure, durable matter.
Most feathers were stopped. Yet, ten percent penetrated, finding gaps in the defense and reaching Malvorn. Thousands of razor feathers struck the Overlord's crystalline body, scratching and cracking the surface layer.
"Are you hurt?" Draven asked urgently, sensing a distant, muted pain through the bond.
"Superficial," Malvorn confirmed, his voice steady. "The structure is regenerating already. No meaningful injury. But... he landed a hit. He drew blood. This fight is not one-sided."
Draven's concern deepened. The fight had only just begun, and the Pseudo-Overlord had already proven it could damage the planetary anchor.
---
Azurath pressed his advantage, giving Malvorn no respite. The Pseudo-Overlord activated Echo Mirage.
His body appeared to split. Three identical projections formed, each moving independently, constructed from condensed air capable of striking. The threat multiplied instantly.
"Which is real?" Draven demanded, the Genesis Codex scanning furiously. "I can't tell!"
Zor's expertise cut in through the Shared Vision: "All three are real attacks, Warden. But only the center projection holds Azurath's consciousness. Destroy the center, and the others dissipate."
"Malvorn! Center projection! Focus your attack!" Draven relayed instantly.
Malvorn activated the Cataclysm Stride. It was a simple step, yet the Magnitude Three gravity pulse released was a continental event, warping space and fracturing the ground for kilometers.
The left and right Echo Mirages struck but were instantly disrupted by the gravity pulse, destabilizing the wind constructs until they dissipated. But the center projection—the true Azurath—dodged. Agile and mobile, he ascended high above the pulse radius, untouched.
Draven cursed internally. "He's too mobile. Aerial superiority is countering our ground-based attacks. He sees everything coming, and the Earth element is inherently disadvantaged against the Storm element."
"This is a serious problem," Malvorn acknowledged. "He dodges where I cannot. I can only defend."
---
"This will be a long fight," Malvorn admitted finally, the reluctant honesty heavy in his voice. "I can defend indefinitely. Overlord stamina is enormous. But landing a decisive hit against an aerial opponent who counters my element is very difficult. Maybe impossible alone."
The silence through the bond was heavy as the pack processed the admission. Malvorn—the Overlord—could not secure victory quickly. He could stalemate. He could survive. But he couldn't win outright.
"I will not retreat," Malvorn continued, voice firm. "Azurath must be stopped. I will hold the line. But I must call for help. Raziel, the Fire-element Overlord. He is a flying type, an aerial combat specialist. He would be the perfect counter. Together, we would win decisively."
Draven nodded slowly. "Do it. There is no shame in requesting backup against a Pseudo-Overlord. That is smart tactics and team strategy."
"Overlord protocol demands I demonstrate personal capability first," Malvorn insisted, a point of pride. "I must prove I attempted victory independently. One hour of combat. Then I will call Raziel. Then we coordinate."
"One hour," Draven confirmed. "We hold for one hour. We fight. We survive. We coordinate perfectly. Then we call the strongest Overlord. Then we end this properly."
"One hour," Malvorn repeated, his gravity surging as he re-engaged. "Then Azurath faces two Overlords. Then this abomination dies. But first—one hour of proving myself. One hour of fighting together."
"Together," Draven confirmed. "Always together. Family until the end. Now—fight. Survive. Coordinate. Win."
---
Draven watched, five kilometers distant, protected by the divine power of Adhivar.
This was Overlord combat. This was what Magnitude Three meant.
Malvorn moved, and the ground cracked for kilometers. Plateaus rose, and the terrain reshaped with every movement. Azurath retaliated with civilization-ending attacks. Any single strike would erase a city, yet Malvorn defended, contained, and neutralized them.
Draven realized he should be dead. He was only alive because of Adhivar's protection—the Worldroot Dragon shielding its bearer from a battle that should kill him by existing near it.
And suddenly, Draven understood Magnitude Zero. Malvorn's constant state. His restraint. His mercy.
This—Magnitude Three—was controlled power, yet it reshaped continents and caused planetary crises. Magnitude Zero meant the Overlord chose restraint every single day so he could walk among mortals, so Draven could stand beside him, and so his family could exist without fear.
That was love. That was choice. That was everything.
"You're incredible," Draven said through the bond, the awe overwhelming him. "Overlords. Walking disasters choosing restraint. Continental threats choosing mercy. You could destroy everything, but you don't. You protect. You serve. That's wisdom. That's everything I aspire to be."
The combat raged. Malvorn fought at the peak of his controlled power, holding the line for his world and his family. The one-hour countdown had begun.
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