A sudden sting snapped him back. Aria’s palm connected with his cheek—not hard, but enough to jolt him out of his frozen state.

  "Snap out of it! We don’t have time for this!" she hissed, gripping his wrist. "We need to move—now!"

  Mark took a sharp breath, his shock melting into cold resolve. He stood up, shifting into a mindset that was unfamiliar to Aria but second nature to him—a state of readiness, as if stepping onto a battlefield.

  "I’ll immobilize him," Mark said, his voice steady, eyes locked onto Alexander. "Aria, find whatever set him off before we have more casualties. There seemed to be something in his neck."

  Shadows expanded from Mark’s feet through the ground, tendrils made of darkness lashing out, seeking to coil around Alexander’s legs and arms, tightening with purpose. But even as they neared, Alexander’s body thrashed violently, his overcharged instincts resisting restraint like a beast refusing a leash.

  With a guttural snarl, Alexander tore through the tendrils, his sheer strength obliterating the shadows before they could take hold. He charged forward, his movements unnervingly fast—Mark barely had time to react before Alexander was upon him.

  Mark threw up a shadow barrier, a thick wall of darkness meant to absorb the brunt of the attack. But the moment Alexander’s claws clashed against it, the barrier shattered like brittle glass, sending Mark stumbling back.

  “Mark, move!” Aria shouted, her voice edged with frustration.

  “Wait for an opening!” Mark shot back, forcing himself to focus. He gritted his teeth, pooling what remained of his energy into a last-ditch attempt.

  Alexander's feral instincts redirected toward Aria the moment her voice rang out, deeming her the greater threat.

  Mark saw his chance—a dark hunting net erupted from his shadows, expanding and closing in around Alexander. He poured everything into it, forcing the writhing net to constrict him and hold Alexander down. It was made so that every time he moved, the net would wrap tighter around him. A technique inspired by cartoons he saw as a kid.

  Now it was all left to Aria. She moved in, preparing to strike. But just as she lunged, Alexander let out a feral roar—a sound so raw and guttural that it rattled through Aria's very bones. Her attack faltered mid-motion, her vision blurring as an unbearable resonance crashed into her like a tidal wave. The frequencies of Alexander’s roar overwhelmed her, vibrating through every nerve in her body. It wasn’t just sound—it was raw energy, a disruptive force that struck her harmonic senses like a thousand discordant notes played at once. For the first time, her greatest strength became her weakness.

  Mark flinched at the same time, an unconscious reaction to the sheer force of the roar. His grip on the dark net wavered for the briefest moment.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  That was all Alexander needed.

  With a monstrous burst of strength, he tore free, the net unraveling like strands of broken thread. Before Aria could recover, Alexander was upon her—his claws carving through the air in a savage arc.

  She barely had time to register the attack before pain erupted across her side. The force sent her crashing to the ground, blood pooling beneath her as her breath hitched in agony.

  Mark’s vision blurred with rage as he saw Aria fall. "ARIAAA!" he roared, his voice cracking with desperation. He clenched his fists, summoning the last remnants of his mana. Shadows trembled violently around him as he forced his body to keep going. His arms shook as he lifted them, gathering the last of his strength to unleash a barrage of dark projectiles.

  But his energy was spent.

  The projectiles fired but lacked the force to penetrate deeply—shallow strikes that barely slowed Alexander down. Mark gasped, his body giving out, his legs buckling beneath him. He collapsed onto the ground, his vision swimming, his lungs struggling for air.

  Alexander turned toward him, eyes filled with unrestrained fury, his predatory instincts now locked onto his next target.

  A sudden metallic hum cut through the chaos.

  A towering figure emerged, stepping forward with a presence that silenced even Alexander’s primal rage. The Iron Warden had arrived.

  With a slow, deliberate motion, the Warden raised his hand, casting Iron Maiden—a technique as brutal as its name. Spikes of dark metal erupted around Alexander, encasing him in an unyielding prison of steel. The moment the cage sealed shut, the walls began to tighten, puncturing his flesh. A guttural, agonized snarl tore from Alexander’s throat as the spikes sank deeper, his struggle growing weaker with every passing second.

  Mark could only watch as the Iron Maiden crushed Alexander within its cold embrace, as a pool of blood accumulated underneath.

  But the Iron Warden was not alone.

  A second figure stepped forward—graceful, yet commanding in presence. Vines slithered across the ground in her wake, delicate yet controlled. With a single gesture, the tendrils sprouted into thick roots, securing the battlefield and ensuring no further chaos would ensue. She was a healer, a guardian of life amid the destruction.

  Kneeling beside Aria, she extended a hand, and from the earth, a large flower unfurled, glowing with a soft, golden light. Petals stretched outward, enveloping Aria in a cocoon of energy, sealing her wounds and stabilizing her breath.

  She then turned to Mark, her eyes calm but unreadable. “You pushed yourself too far,” she murmured as another flower bloomed beneath him, tendrils wrapping gently around his limbs, replenishing his strength with its soothing aura.

  He wanted to move. He wanted to say something. But the weight of exhaustion pulled him under, deeper than any shadow he could control.

  Mark barely registered the sensation of the vines tightening around him. His vision blurred, his body numb. He tried to fight the darkness creeping in—but it swallowed him whole. For now, they had survived.

  After both Aria and Mark fell unconscious,

  Elara murmured, "Cold and efficient, as always." Her voice was steady, but disapproval lingered beneath the surface as she eyed the remains of Iron Maiden’s aftermath.

  The Iron Warden didn't respond immediately. His metallic gaze remained fixed on Alexander’s unmoving form. Then, with a tone devoid of remorse, he replied, "I just did my job."

  Elara let out a deep sigh. "They were watching, Warden. That display won't be forgotten."

  "There was no saving him. He was already gone."

  "Maybe. But not everyone will see it that way. You may have ended a threat today, but mark my words—it won’t be the last time you answer for it."

  The Iron Warden finally turned toward her. "Judgment is inevitable, Elara. But until that day, there is more work to be done. Finish up."

  Soon after, the medics rushed in, their arrival a stark contrast to the battlefield’s eerie stillness.