Power of Runes-Chapter 77: Twin Calamity Subjugation (7)

"Huhu...," Miraak's chuckle was quiet, almost airy, but it twisted through the air like a snake. He stared at the deep wound carved across his chest, where dark blood spilled slowly, thicker than ink, refusing to stop.

"This... is really surprising," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He gently touched one of the bleeding gashes, eyes narrowing.

The blood clung to his fingers like melted tar, "Not healing..." His lips curled into something between amusement and disbelief, "How long has it been... since something like this has happened?"

He wasn't just shocked—he was intrigued. For someone like him—an Elite Demon whose body could shrug off spells and blades alike—this pain wasn't just rare.

It was impossible

They were only surface wounds—but for someone like him, even that was unthinkable.

When anger boils past the breaking point, it either erupts in chaos—or freezes into silence. Some rage makes you reckless. Some turns you into something far more dangerous.

That's what was happening with Miraak.

Miraak didn't act like a monster thrown off balance. He stood like something far worse—a predator watching and thinking.

The space around him didn't explode. Instead, it pulled tight, like the calm just before lightning crashes down.

Two crimson eyes,, locked onto Ash. Their earlier amusement had been stripped away, leaving behind only a clinical, merciless clarity, like a scientist dissecting a rare creature that had proven unexpectedly dangerous.

"What is your name... human?"

Ash didn't answer at first. His hands still shook from the power he had released; his focus was hazy, and a serious headache throbbed in his skull—an aftereffect of Omni Thought.

Behind him, the battle raged on, Zerak's roars and the sounds of clashing steel filling the air—but Ash didn't hear it. His world had shrunk down to just him and Miraak.

For a moment, silence stretched, thick and heavy. His voice, when it finally came, was calm, but there was a weight to it.

Visit freewebnoveℓ.com for the best novel reading exp𝒆rience.

"Ash Burn."

{A/N: Yo, real quick—thinking about giving Ash's other identity the title "Heavenly Demon." I know, I know, it sounds Murim-style, but even in a non-Murim setting, there's just something raw and regal about it, right? Feels like a name that echoes. Still, I'll only run with it if y'all vibe with it—let me know.}

Miraak's red eyes flickered, his lips curling into something like amusement, but the heat of anger still simmered beneath, "Ash Burn... Ash Burn..." Miraak repeated slowly, as if committing the name to memory, letting each syllable sink into his thoughts.

After a beat, he nodded.

"Very well, Ash Burn. I, Miraak, will remember the name of the human who dares to wound me."

Miraak's eyes burned with an intensity that could melt stone. The rage inside him was building, thick and boiling, until it spilled out of his mouth in a vicious hiss.

"But..."

His voice dipped low, dripping with fury, "You will pay for this. You will pay the price for daring to harm me."

His hands shot up.

The atmosphere around them seemed to crackle as dark energy surged through his fingers, swirling like a storm ready to break loose. Miraak's power gathered around him—so thick it felt like the air was vibrating, bending to his will.

"Cursed Hands"

With that chant, two massive hands formed in the air—made entirely of dense cursed demonic energy. They weren't just large—they were heavy, like they dragged gravity with them. The surface of the hands looked like cracked stone, but beneath the cracks, a dark red light pulsed, almost like veins.

But that wasn't what made Ash alert.

There was something in those hands that couldn't be seen but could be felt—something that made your instincts scream to run.

Layers of curses, stacked so tightly together they created an invisible field around the hands, all designed to rot, break, and destroy anything they touched.

Ash's eyes narrowed.

The curse won't affect me because of the Rune... but the physical force behind it? If those hit me, even once, I'm done for.

He didn't waste time. Instead of backing away, he sprinted forward, directly toward Miraak.

The cursed hands tried to follow, swooping down fast.

They missed him by just a few inches as Ash ducked and slid under one, his speed increasing as mana surged through his legs.

But the hands didn't vanish. They turned and rotated midair, adjusting their trajectory to chase him like controlled weapons.

Ash gritted his teeth and pushed mana into his legs again, bursting into a higher speed.

But the pressure didn't let up.

The cursed hands kept hovering behind him, each time getting closer.

Then suddenly, a wall of compact earth slammed up between him and the cursed hand. It hit the cursed energy and held it back for a moment.

Ash glanced sideways.

Aurora was standing again, her body no longer bleeding. She looked focused, her eyes glowing faintly. She had already recovered from the curse.

She wasn't just back—she was ready.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! ATTACK!!" Aurora shouted, her voice snapping the others out of their daze.

The cursed hands were surrounded—others were helping to block and distract it's attention.

Ash kept moving forward. He didn't slow down. He knew this was the only opening he'd get.

But Miraak wasn't going to let him come close now,

Miraak lifted a hand and cast again.

He wasn't just a curse user—he knew other spells too.

"Black Thorn."

Hundreds of black needle-like thorns appeared in the air, all pointed at Ash.

Instant cast, Ash thought grimly.

They launched toward him like bullets.

Ash's heart pounded—but his mind stayed calm.

He activated Omni Thought again.

Everything around him shifted. The colors faded to gray. The sounds dulled. Time slowed. The world went quiet.

The thorns were moving—but now, slowly, like falling leaves.

Ash's brain kicked into overdrive.

He didn't just see the thorns.

He analyzed them.

Each thorn had a slightly different edge. Some longer, some thinner. Their density wasn't uniform—some were heavier with mana than others, which meant their flight path would shift slightly mid-air.

Curved rotation. Slight deviation to the right. Mana weight about 12.3%. Dangerous—lethal if hit in the chest.

He moved his eyes across the space.

There were 147 thorns in total. He broke them into clusters of 12. Each cluster had a timing pattern—a ripple in air displacement. That meant he could find micro-gaps in their release rhythm.

There. One opening. Two more. Move two steps, then roll.

[1 Second..]

He planned his steps.

His body could only move a limited distance in each second—so he had to make every shift matter.

0.3 meters left. Duck. Roll forward. Bounce up using right leg. Spin—use the mana to shift center of gravity mid-air.

But it wasn't just the thorns.

He could feel everything.

His heartbeat. His blood flowing. The pain in his limbs.

He even sensed the vibrations under his feet—the way the hall floor reacted to the magical pressure around them.

His brain tried to scream at him to slow down, to stop, to not burn this fast. But he shut it out.

[2 Seconds..]

The moment the skill was released, reality warped. Only two seconds slipped by in the real world—but for Ash, those seconds stretched like 20 minutes.

A throbbing headache pounded behind his eyes, growing sharper with every flicker of lingering magic in the air. His mind screamed, his body trembled, but Ash didn't yield. He couldn't.

Let's do this...

I can't get hit—not even once. I won't my regeneration to anyone.

His eyes locked onto the final path. He didn't just plan how to dodge—he planned where he'd end up, how he'd use the momentum to strike back.

His muscles tensed, coiled like springs about to snap.

BOOM—

The air exploded with motion.

***

"ICE CAGE!"

A sudden surge of frost burst forth, encasing the cursed hands in jagged ice. The crystalline prison formed with a sharp hiss, locking the hand's movements just long enough to interrupt it from attacking anyone else.

Soon cracks appeared on the ice, the hands threatening to break free.

Her star mana showed wonders in resisting it.

Strange... the spell's power—it felt weaker than before.

Aurora narrowed her eyes, confusion blooming across her face.

She could sense it; when she first blocked the hands the earth wall has almost collapsed, but now she was able to stop the hands, even for a moment.

The force behind the hands had dipped slightly, almost as if part of the ambient energy had been pulled away—diverted elsewhere.

And then, as she thought something, her gaze whipped around toward the source.

And saw the boy who had saved her—charging straight toward the tsunami of black needles, each one radiating ominous, soul-chilling energy.

Shit... what is he doing?!

She raised her hands, ready to form a protective barrier to shield him, to keep him from being torn apart by the wave of death racing toward him.

But her spell faltered mid-cast, dissolving as her breath caught in her throat.

Because what she saw at that moment froze her more effectively than any spell ever could.

His silvery-white hair flowed wildly behind him, the strands crackling with arcs of lightning as they whipped in the wind.

The lightning was wrapping, his legs and arms as if he commanded the storm itself.

Her heart pounded as she watched, every pulse of lightning casting an eerie glow over him, making his figure shine in the dim light.

Aurora's breath hitched, her eyes wide as she watched him move with a kind of grace that made everything else seem insignificant.

She couldn't look away, caught in the strange, magnetic pull of his presence. For a moment, it felt like the world had paused, leaving just him and the energy that surrounded him.

And then, his hands moved—and in response, a glowing magic circle was formed between his palms, rotating slowly like the eye of storm.

Then, just as the magic circle around Ash flared to life, he exploded into motion. A flash of lightning arced through the air, and for a brief instant, Aurora couldn't even process what was happening—he was moving too fast.

H-how C-can he move...like that?

She even doubted if all of this was an illusion.

Aurora's heart skipped a beat as she tried to track his form. The only thing she saw was—a streak of lightning, darting through the chaos, weaving through the onslaught of thorns with fluid, almost effortless precision.

It wasn't just a blur—it was everywhere at once, moving in various directions, dancing between the needles as if they were nothing more than minor obstacles in his path.

What the fucking hell, her eyes widened, in shock.

With each twist and turn, he dodged seamlessly, his body shifting and reacting faster than her eyes could follow.

It was as if he knew exactly where every thorn would land before it even reached him.

Who.....is he really? No one told there was someone like him in the academy...

Before she could think more, Ash had already appeared directly above Miraak dozing all the thorns,

Aurora's breath caught, her heart stumbling in her chest as her eyes locked onto the figure above Miraak.

He's... breathtaking.

That was the only word that even came close. His hair shimmered like strands of current under lightning, whipping behind him like a banner of defiance.

How can someone look like that in the middle of battle?

There was something about him—irresistibly fierce, yet exuding a calm confidence that made him look untouchable, almost otherworldly.

She couldn't stop staring. And in that moment, surrounded by chaos, blood, and screams—Aurora could only think one thing.

He's the most beautiful storm I've ever seen.

***

A/N: Another Chapter coming in few hours..