Bonded Summoner

Book 9. Chapter 27: The Song of Vengeance

Tanda blurred off the edge of the ramp, a streak of black-and-red deathly flames crossing the cavern in a fraction of a second. Her crescent moon halberd’s scythe-like blade descended on the largest pulsing geode like a falling guillotine.

It cleaved straight through the corrupted crystal's thickest point. The geode shattered, and the Avenging Flames incinerated the anti-magic matrix holding it together, turning the massive battery into a cloud of harmless, inert dust.

And Tanda wasn't the only one moving with extreme efficiency, as she launched herself with another deadly swing toward the next.

Throughout the basin, their many allies’ strikes pierced deeply into the resonating geodes, shattering them with manifestations of beasts that had a powerfully anchored spiritual weight, or Valor-infused blades and Roman warriors channeling the greatness of Rome’s spirituality. Ruby and Nessa combined a blood-lotus and flash-freezing strike that shattered a second geode into crystalline shrapnel.

Ophelia and Valora drove a spiraling lance of golden vajrafire flames through a third, while Garona and Bulldozer simply used their colossal, armored bulks to physically crush the smaller clusters into the bedrock.

Watching from the threshold, Jake felt a surge of pride cut through his lingering frustration as his commanding bolts of Holy Dark slammed into another geode. No raid group in the universe could have responded quicker and in a more deadly fashion. Clan Hart was operating on an entirely different level of synergy.

He also noticed the shift in the air. The angered beastkin were striking with terrifying power, fueled by a song that Jake had never heard before. It utilized the acoustic and magical foundations of the Celtic runes he had researched, but Jarrix and Vesuvius had forcibly evolved it, along with the Arawn and Cernunnos Clergy present.

Driven by the loss of Vexana and desire for righteous retribution, the choir had woven the structured runes into a completely new, roaring dirge of vengeance that actively destabilized the corrupted resonance around them. The tendrils of the spiraling triskele had a weight of their faith and outrage in it, empowering their blows and unleashed attacks.

High above, the Carnex Draconid shrieked in fury as the last geode was destroyed, the streams of violent energy coming to a stop.

Because the Battlegroup had annihilated the geodes so rapidly, the boss's charging phase was violently cut off. The unavoidable, arena-wiping mechanic had been starved of its fuel. But a Prime Instance Boss did not just cancel an attack.The Draconid snapped its jaws forward, unleashing a massive, roaring torrent of corrupted, violet resonance flames. It was as weakened as it could possibly be, but it was still a sprawling, lethal wave of Third-Tier draconic breath hurtling toward the center of the arena.

Fhesiah flew directly toward the boss and into the direct line of fire. Her golden eyes shimmered with innate draconic pride.

Jake couldn’t help but feel a sharp spike of worry as the blast of immense power shot downward, but a memory anchored him. Back during their planning phase outside the cavern doors, when he had first read the dungeon script aloud and had decided on their plan, Fhesiah had caught his eye.

[I can handle the breath. Do not worry, Husband,] her voice had echoed through their private bond then, calm and razor-sharp. [I have not spent the last three days walking these caverns bored. I have studied the corruption, the parasitic resonance. I know its alchemical structure.]

Jake remembered the absolute confidence she exuded, but his mind hadn't relaxed then, and it certainly wasn't relaxing now. He had originally assigned himself and Ophelia as the backup because a Third-Tier breath attack was a massive, unknown variable.

Even with Fhesiah's supreme talent and preparation, drawing in that much sheer volume was a monumental physical task, and a veteran raid leader never left a wipe mechanic to a single point of failure.

And after what had just happened on the right flank, that standard caution felt like an absolute necessity.

Tartarus had just blatantly manipulated the game to kill Vexana. The dungeon was an active, cheating participant in this fight. If the entity could perfectly bend the trajectory of two near-supersonic artillery shells, Jake certainly could not trust the geometry of this breath attack to behave exactly as it should. He refused to leave his family's safety to the whims of a rigged system.

“Lia! With me!” Jake commanded from the threshold, firmly refusing to step a single foot outside the golden borders of Sanctum. He reached deeply into the Nexus, violently funneling his Aura of Hestia directly into his Guardian wife.

Out in the basin, Ophelia answered the call. She raised her golden Winged Kite Shield into the air, her Guardian presence flaring as Jake's channeled flames cascaded over her divine metal. They charged the hearth within it, and together, they projected a massive, overlapping blanket of Hestian and Vajrafire flames to cover the melee vanguard and their support pinned underneath the center of the arena.

In truth, Jake knew the melee fighters weren't actually all that vulnerable, more than satisfied with their sturdiness and personal protections. Between the heavy protection of the Valor Warriors and the shields of the Roman Legionnaires, the sheer, immovable bulk of the Treants, Bulldozer, and Garona, and the hardened resilience of fighters like Darris and Jarrix, they could easily survive the splash damage of a stray breath.

But Jake was a veteran. He knew that letting his front line eat a massive attack needlessly would instantly spike the burden on the healers during a highly turbulent transition. Stressed healers and chaotic damage spikes were exactly what led to freak accidents and deaths. He wasn't going to give Tartarus another opening to exploit.

It was a flawless execution of the backup plan, ready to catch any corrupted spillover that Fhesiah couldn't pull into her gravitational center–or any anomalous, rule-breaking trajectories the dungeon might try to slip past them.

In the air, Fhesiah activated her Draconic Plunder and breathed in.

Because the corrupted resonance was fundamentally draconic fire, her superior bloodline and overwhelming Qi allowed her to seize absolute control of the attack's trajectory. The sprawling torrent of violet fire violently narrowed mid-air, drawn inextricably toward Fhesiah.

Where a pendant would normally rest on her sternum, the opening to her Hearthflame flared wide, acting as the physical gateway to her internal pill furnace. The corrupted draconic flames rushed directly into her chest as she breathed in, filling the intricate, three-chambered structure of her lungs that she had permanently lined with Argenthrax’s Mithril Claws and draconic soul.

Sati was instantly at her back in the air, pressing her palms against Fhesiah's spine. The serene fire spirit flooded Fhesiah's lung chamber with the Pure Heart Flames of devotion and her flames of compassion, creating an internal, purifying buffer against the incoming taint.

For a breathless second, the immense pressure of the attack tested her limits as the breath attack continued. The corrupted draconic resonance fought against her, the parasitic magic trying to take root in her chest. But bolstered by Sati’s pure flames, alongside her own transformative kitsune fire and destructive dragon flames, Fhesiah easily forced the volatile elements into her central lung chamber, where they began to mix.

Channeling the absolute manifestation of her spirit, she pressed the full, anchoring weight of her Dao down onto the chaotic mixture. Using her Celestial Alchemy, she aggressively forged the opposing energies into a singular, devastating weapon.

With a deafening, echoing roar, the newly purified, violently amplified breath attack erupted straight out from the glowing hole in her chest as she spread her wings wide.

She fired the roaring torrent right back at the hovering Abomination, amplifying the violet corruption with her own blinding, Tier-breaking golden celestial flames. The massive wave of fire struck the Carnex Draconid dead in the center of its mass.

The resulting explosion rocked the entire cavern. The kinetic and magical backlash tore through the boss's armored scales, ripping away nearly ten percent of its massive health pool in a single, devastating hit. The beast's wings seized, and the smoking titan plummeted from the vaulted ceiling, crashing back down into the central basin with a heavy, earth-shattering thud.

With a sharp, ringing command, Ophelia spurred Valora forward and drew some of the gathered flames of Hestia into Retribution, her polearm. The steed blurred across the bedrock in a flash of light, allowing Ophelia to capitalize instantly, her draconic mount roaring as she supplied lightning of her own as they struck powerfully with an improvised Vajrafire Blast.

Ophelia had driven a spiraling lance of Vajrafire deep into the disoriented Abomination's chest just as the rest of the melee vanguard surged forward to pin the weakened enemy down, landing wounding blows of their own.

But as the dust settled, Jake’s Umbral Gaze snapped back to Fhesiah to ensure nothing had slipped through, as he drew back what remained of the flames back to Sanctum. Fhesiah's plunder had been absolutely flawless. Not a single spark of corrupted breath had bypassed her.

Fhesiah dropped from the air, landing gracefully but breathing heavily. A thin wisp of acrid black smoke curled from the glowing aperture in her chest. Some corruption had harmed her somewhat, but the sheer exertion of containing that much volatile energy was evident. Sati had done a fine job of fueling the transformation and purification of corrupted flames, and she floated next to Fhesiah, purging what remained.

[A perfect reflection, and you’re right that I have Sati to thank for my success.] Fhesiah sent through the bond, swiping a delicate hand through the lingering smoke. [But that parasite's flavor is absolutely abhorrent. I can handle a larger yield when it flies again, Husband, but I will need your help this time to succeed.]

Jake's tactical mind rapidly recalculated the board as the two headed to attack the downed dragon.

The boss was down to below sixty percent health, but the thirty percent flight phase was looming. The challenge would inevitably escalate. The geodes would charge faster, and the breath would be vastly more lethal. And he knew that there was a new element about to reveal itself.

“Priestess!” Jake's voice boomed across the cavern, targeting the lead Priestess of Arawn. “When this bug hits thirty percent, I want Caer Wydyr prepped and ready to deploy over the central melee!”

The Elysian druids and beastkin clergy immediately shifted their positions to support her, preparing a massive circle casting that wove Script directly with the beastkin’s Celtic Runes.

“Do not blow the barrier unless we fail the catch.” Jake continued, his voice echoing with authority. “If Faye and I successfully reflect that breath, I want you to pivot. The moment you see the flame turn back on the boss, invert the circle's polarity and hit that Abomination with a full, execution-tier offensive strike!”

[And you?] Blood asked through their mental link.

“When it flies again, I will drop Monarch and shift to the State of the Sage,” Jake replied. “I will converge my Void and Hestia’s Flames directly with Sati and Fhesiah. We will purify that breath together.”

With the endgame plan set, the battle settled into a brutal, grinding rhythm. The dragon eventually managed to pick itself up and start fighting again, its wings, tail, and claws striking the front line in retribution.

As the beast's health plummeted toward the fifty percent mark rapidly, it was easy to see how the monster was wounded. Its Adaptive Healing failed to keep pace with the sheer volume of damage tearing through its scales, the lingering flames from Fhesiah’s breath, and the melee fighters capitalizing on its weakness, working through its health quicker than previously.

Garona and Bulldozer easily kept the thrashing beast pinned to the floor, allowing the roaming squads to unload their arsenals. But as its massive health pool crossed the threshold, the dungeon's trap sprang.

It was the mechanic listed on the Framework Script: Parasitic Arcing.

Thick, vibrating, resonant tentacles of energy violently erupted from the open, burning wounds across the Draconid's body. The parasite inside was panicking. The grotesque, whip-like appendages lashed out blindly, acting like a Tesla coil. Arcs of concentrated, violent corruption struck like electricity, blasting anything nearby and rapidly leaking thick, toxic miasma into the cavern.

The tendrils lashed out, striking the melee and large warriors they had tanking the boss. Heals landed on them, and the treants restored their own health and continued the fight, but it wasn’t long before they started to hesitate about staying near.

“Chief! The heals aren't sticking!” Grayson shouted from the flank, the reptilian beastkin parrying a fleshy whip with his staff. “These tentacles aren't just hitting them; they're infecting the wounds! We can't cleanse the rot fast enough!”

Jake saw the health bars of the melee squads dipping terrifyingly low through his Battlegroup Menu. Grayson was right. They weren't just taking damage; they were being actively infected, halving the effectiveness of every restorative spell the clergy threw at them. This had been mentioned in the Framework Script detailing the encounter, but seeing just how it affected things was much less clear until this moment. It wasn’t as if it detailed actual numbers of the damage it dished out.

Clan Hart was uniquely equipped to annihilate corruption. Between Jake’s Flames of Hestia, Ophelia's Righteous Lightning, Berri’s Holy Light, Sati’s Pure Heart Flames, and the fertile flames of Brigid wielded by Tanda and Bree, they could have easily blown their mana to instantly burn the tendrils away. But Jake had ordered them to hold their resources for the final execution.

He needed to purge the arena now, but he hesitated. Dropping the Monarch State meant releasing his suffocating crowd control over the entire cavern, giving the Lesser Siege-Beetles on the highways free rein, and the dragon, too, had several curses on it, weakening and slowing it. To remove that control, he just might lose control over the battlefield.

[Drop the leash, Husband,] Blood’s voice echoed through the Covenant, thick with monstrous confidence. [The Abomination is crippled and pinned. Garona and I can lock its physical body down from here. Go take care of our people.]

Tanda, Avalara, and Bree also sent a surge of confidence. Their defensive swamps they had built had now reached a significant threshold. He had noticed that the thwump sounds and flashing lights from the highways were dying out, and the reason was that the beetles were being smothered.

Tanda’s summoned spriggons had grown in the swamp a meadow of deathbloom, which fed on the corruption the Siege-Beetles gave off and released a corrosive mist that tore through their health rapidly.

Then, the spriggons themselves had grown, turning themselves into mini-swamp-treants that wielded it. Tanda herself was also deep into her cyclical song of vengeance, able to expend individual cycles for boosts that would tear the Siege-Beetles apart if they risked breaking through.

And it was the same on the other ramp. The swamp and jungle had spread, and Avalara and Bree had lined them with powerful manifestations of hounds and stags that tore through the Siege-Beetles. This was, of course, in addition to the warriors assigned to help with defeating the beetles.

Trusting his wife's tactical read, Jake decisively severed his connection to the oppressive holy dark flames of the Monarch. He reached deep into the Covenant, bypassing the Guardian entirely, and dived straight into Berri’s purest aspect of Light and Vitality.

Golden-white, miraculous flames ignited in his chest as he entered the State of the Saint and they were transformed.

When Jake synced with Berri's Saint aspect, it wasn't the pious, selfless heroism of a traditional healer. Berri's nature was fundamentally monstrous, and her version of ‘holy protection’ was fiercely, aggressively maternal. As the State settled over his mind, Jake was suddenly hit by an overwhelming, almost feral urge to physically scoop up every single person he cared about in this cavern and squeeze them in a suffocating... snake hug to keep them safe.

Since he couldn't physically hug sixty-plus people at once, Jake did the next best thing.

He slammed the butt of Pyros into the threshold and engulfed the entire raid in a massive, overwhelming embrace of holy-light flames, actively enhancing his Champion Aura even beyond what it might have accomplished on its own. The same erupted from Berri herself, his wife doing the same as he did, her holy light flames expanding to encompass the entire raid in the basin.

The blinding, torrential shockwave of pure light Hearthflames washed over the arena. It was incredibly warm, deeply comforting, and violently aggressive toward anything that wasn't Hearthtribe. The miraculous energy topped off everyone’s health bars and violently purged the Carnex taint from the air, burning the infection out of the beastkin's wounds and searing the fleshy tentacles.

Even the Carnex Stalkers were suddenly outed, the creatures screeching as they were burned by the holy flames. Thanks to Jake and Berri’s incredible Hearth Control–their ability to manipulate the mana of the hearth–they had created something matching a widespread Consecration spell, covering the area of several football fields at once.

Out on the floor, Vesuvius let out a booming laugh as the holy flames wrapped around him, the sheer protective warmth of his Raid Leader physically reinvigorating his aura like a new sort of positive infection. His glaive now unleashed its chaotic torrent, and the kaleidoscope of colors clearly contained some holy light along with it.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The holy light explosions were added to everyone’s attacks, quickly purging the corruption of the dragon, weakening its Parasitic Arcing in a way that Jake couldn’t have predicted.

The State of the Saint wasn’t meant to act quite like Nessa’s or Sati’s enhanced ability at purging corruption, but the qualitative enhancement from the Covenant was accomplishing it just the same. And thanks to the basin covered in holy light flames and the stalkers dealt with, Nessa and Ruby’s attacks now converged on the boss, striking it powerfully.

Jake dropping the Monarch State instantly released the snaring pressure on the elevated highways. The continuous spawn of Lesser Siege-Beetles lurched forward, their march accelerating as Jake’s Aura no longer added a knock-back or snaring effect.

Tanda and others managed to keep up the slack, just as they had promised. The beastkin choir's energy was actively being split across the entire arena to manage the escalating chaos, but Tanda was still using Cyclic Strike. She was able to unleash powerful blows that cleaved off the monster’s leg and damaged the geode in the same swing, expending singular cycles to dish out heavy damage. Roxo and Falcor then descended on the monster, spreading cuts deep into its flesh and burning its geode payload.

On the right ramp, Avalara and Bree completely overwhelmed the lane. The two giant, monstrous women created a localized storm of destruction. Bree unleashed a roaring wave of fertile flames, her blazing hounds tearing into a freshly spawned Siege-Beetle. Every predatory instinct in her body screamed at her to dive into the basin–to sink her fangs and claws directly into the Third-Tier dragon.

The old Bree would have abandoned the ramp entirely, viewing the ‘dirty work’ of lane control as an insult to her strength. But she was no longer just a wild, prideful beast. She was a core pillar of the Hearthtribe, a member of Jake’s Pack. Submitting to her Pack Leader's overarching strategy, Bree swallowed her pride and fully embraced her role, ruthlessly holding the flank so her family wouldn't be overrun.

And she didn't have to hold it alone. Avalara laughed as her auril and nethril hearts sang the Song of Vengeance right along with her world’s children. Glowing Celtic Runes branched out from her skin into an intricate web of spirals, empowering her massive tree maul as she slammed it into the beetles with the terrifying, golden fury of the beastkin–doing just as Tanda was doing, expending cyclic power as she went.

With the lanes secured and the State of the Saint's miraculous, lingering light shielding the melee vanguard against the boss, the damage dealers melted it toward the final threshold. Jake’s wives all prepared their attacks, ready to dump their stores of special flames on the geodes and then the boss

Forty percent. Thirty-five percent. Thirty percent.

The boss let out a desperate shriek. The remaining parasitic tendrils violently retracted, and the massive beast ripped its insectoid legs free from the bedrock, launching itself back toward the vaulted ceiling. The remaining geodes in the center of the room dropped their shields, funneling the last of their corrupted energy upward.

“Geodes!” Jake roared, instantly dropping the Saint State and harmonizing with Fhesiah.

He didn't hesitate this time. As the Draconid unhinged its jaw to draw in energy for its final, desperate breath attack, Jake shifted directly into the State of the Sage, finding resonance with his passionate wife, her spirit of dominance through knowledge and will alone. He pushed his immense stored flames from Sanctum directly through the Covenant, converging his soul with Fhesiah.

Sati was there as well, infusing her flaming Qi stores into Fhesiah’s lungs.

Ruby’s bloodblades surged with ferocity, striking several geodes at once with Ophelia’s Vajrafire flames mixed with her blood lotuses, even as each woman charged and slashed other geodes, and with Valora sending out a storm of lightning of her own with a proud battle cry.

In a surprise showing, Falcor the unliving axe, launched itself across the arena from the highway above, and slashed powerfully into a geode, releasing arcane might and piercing the protection and defeating it. Across the basin, all of Jake’s allies unleashed hell, demonstrating unmatched strength and ferocity. Overall, Jake was impressed with their capability, each one a hero of a different scale from his family, but ones that he was proud to rely on.

They were right to be concerned, however. There were more geodes, and despite their fierce, rapid destruction of them, more energy pooled up by the dragon. The geodes eventually destroyed, the dragon finalized its breath attack. The pool of energy was then unleashed, and the massive, violet torrent of corrupted resonance plummeted toward them.

Fhesiah flew up to meet it, her chest-furnace blazing open as she activated her Draconic Plunder. But this time, she didn't just pull the boss's attack. Enhanced by Jake's Sage State and the deep resonance of the Covenant, her Plunder cast a massive, conceptual net.

Along with the corrupted draconic breath, Fhesiah violently inhaled all of the lingering, holy-light flames Jake and Berri had just plastered across the arena.

She drew the boss's ultimate attack and the residual Saint's fire directly into her furnace. Bolstered by Jake’s Void Flames and Sati’s Pure Heart Flames, Fhesiah didn't even tremble. The holy energy acted as a perfect, hyper-combustible catalyst for her Celestial Alchemy, which cleansed the corruption as it was transformed and merged with Yin and Yang.

With a roar that shook the very foundations of the Tartarus Prime Instance, Fhesiah fired the perfectly purified, exponentially amplified breath attack back at the ceiling, the condensed flames becoming more like a beam of white-gold destruction.

The blast struck the Abomination, instantly obliterating the beast's remaining health pool as its body was pierced through its chest. Below, the Priestess of Arawn and the circle casters inverted their polarity, changing their spell to Winter’s Embrace. The monster fell, the beam cleaving through much of its chest as it continued, until it winked out.

A portal to the Underworld was opened, and a devastating wave of frost and death energy was unleashed, wrapping around the dragon just as it hit the ground.

The corrupted draconic centaur went entirely limp, its physical vessel finally broken as much of it cracked from being flash-frozen. And Fhesiah's golden eyes flashed with absolute, predatory dominance as she continued to breathe.

She continued to draw her breath at the fallen titan, inhaling sharply, fully activating the true, terrifying nature of Draconic Plunder as she latched onto the spirit of the dragon with her will. Something about how a dragon unleashed its breath attack left its spirit vulnerable, and this Plunder ability she learned from that Drakan Champion of Greed allowed her to latch on and draw it out.

Drained, the Abomination's massive, tainted soul was violently ripped from its physical anchor. The ethereal, screaming spirit of the dragon, still hopelessly tangled with the Carnex parasite, was dragged through the air and sucked directly into Fhesiah's chest.

Her Celestial Alchemy immediately went to work, violently burning away the parasitic Carnex taint and digesting the pure, Third-Tier draconic essence as her own as the Nexus supplied her with the flames of their family. The weakened parasite was no match for their combined might, and it was purified as it empowered Fhesiah’s spirit.

It was a small, poetic justice for the defiled bloodline. The parasite had been consumed and destroyed, and strength was granted to the dragon that freed it. The spirit arrived in her Spiritual Temple, joining the hearth with all the others.

The cavern fell completely silent as they received the victory prompt.

[Alliance Victory! Calculating Rewards. You have one hour before the Instance will be destroyed. Participants will be transferred to Primary Alliance HQ on Serthune. You may enter the portal when ready to exit.]

An additional prompt also made note that the Raid Point store would be the primary vehicle for their loot from the boss.

The deafening silence of the cavern was quickly replaced by the heavy, exhausted breathing of the Battlegroup. Then, the cheering started.

Weapons were raised, relieved laughter echoed off the crystalline walls, and heavy, gauntleted high-fives were exchanged as adrenaline began to bleed out of their systems. The Framework prompt hovered in the air for many, a confirmation that their victory was completed.

The immediate priority wasn't the loot. The beastkin clergy and Elysian healers moved swiftly toward the back-right flank, gathering around Vexana’s impaled form. Jarrix was already there, his massive hands resting gently on the stone.

Golden and emerald light flared from the Grayson’s staff, weaving a complex resurrection matrix. The impaled body lifted and was reconstructed, and a moment later, Vexana gasped, her chest heaving as her aura violently re-ignited. Jarrix didn't say a word; he simply scooped his wife up in a massive, crushing embrace.

Through his Sympathetic Link, Jake felt the collective emotional shift. The beastkin choir, which had been locked in a roaring, heavy dirge of vengeance, seamlessly harmonized. The missing note returned, and the song shifted into a vibrant, thrumming hum of pure victory.

With their family whole, the Battlegroup went to work. Squads fanned out to collect the clean as well as the corrupted geodes, process the dead Carnex Stalkers, and break down the many dead Lesser Siege-Beetles. Down in the basin, Garona, Bulldozer, and the heavy tanks began physically carving the gargantuan Draconid into manageable pieces. They hacked the beast apart until the chunks were small enough for their Loot function to finally be able to take hold and place the results in Storage Rings.

Standing near the threshold of his Sanctum, Jake took a deep breath, letting the Hestian flames recede into his core. He looked out over the bustling cavern, a heavy sense of realization washing over him.

They had just cleared a planetary-level Prime Instance, and he hadn't even shown his full hand.

He hadn’t even stepped outside his Sanctum since they entered the dungeon, except when he canceled it to move. There was no such limitation; the anchor fully allowed him to leave his ‘home’ if the battle required it. He didn't harbor the arrogant delusion that he was somehow tricking a planetary-scale intelligence, exactly. Tartarus was likely well aware of his physical capabilities. But as a veteran raid leader, Jake knew the value of minimizing variables.

By anchoring himself entirely within Sanctum, he eliminated the need to manage his own physical footwork or dodge stray mechanics, dedicating one hundred percent of his cognitive processing power to managing the Covenant States, monitoring the Battlegroup’s health, and funneling his aura. Furthermore, remaining perfectly stationary turned his position into a rigid control group.

He wanted to see exactly how the dungeon's algorithm would react to a nearly immovable object, actively waiting to see if Tartarus would spawn a mechanic or break a rule specifically designed to force him out. It hadn't this time, allowing him to keep his physical presence entirely off the board. Seeing how the dungeon evolved its attacks to break his Sanctum as he upgraded it, along with his wives, was going to be important.

They also hadn't used Fusion Ascension–the reality-bending ability where he and one of his wives could merge into a single, highly enhanced being that rivaled the output of Tanda's ultimate Cyclic Strike.

The three unsealed Champions hadn't needed to call upon their Divine. Nessa, Bree, and Avalara had barely tapped into their reserves of Nascent Divine Essence, which was yet another fallback if the raid began to wipe. Tanda and Ophelia hadn’t even needed to use their Diva and Asura Seals.

And Jake didn’t enter the State of the Family, his absolute most powerful Resonant State and Covenant. He had made the State require swapping States three times now before he could enter it, and the power gain from the State was immense.

They hadn't needed those abilities because of the people currently carving up the dragon. Their allies–the Elysian druids, the beastkin warriors, the Treants, and the Emberborn casters–weren't Champion or Divine Descendant-class entities, but they were hardened elites. Through their flawless synergy and discipline, the Battlegroup had become vastly greater than the sum of its parts.

Then, the celebratory tone in the air subtly shifted. The ambient mana in the cavern grew incredibly dense, heavy with an oppressive, evaluating weight.

Jake looked upward toward the vaulted ceiling. A beam of stark, uncompromising golden light pierced the dark stone, and Tyr drifted down, his armored avatar landing lightly near Clan Hart. The God of Law and Justice looked over the ruined arena, his expression unreadable. His wives gathered around, all wanting answers, the rest of their warriors continuing to work.

“A flawless execution, Champion,” Tyr said, his voice echoing with the absolute weight of a gavel. “But I know the grievance you hold. You wish to speak of the right flank.”

Jake's eyes narrowed, his lingering outrage from Vexana's death bubbling to the surface. “Two near-supersonic crystals converging perfectly on a mid-air dodge trajectory. And an obvious coordination with the boss's actions to lock down certain actors that just might have been able to prevent it. It was a blatant manipulation of physics and actions, coordination outside of the dungeon script. Tartarus put its finger on the scale.”

“It was a phenomenally rare RNG event,” Tyr corrected calmly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of vindication. “An unrealistic, one-in-a-trillion probability. But mathematically, within the trillions of overlapping algorithms governing a Prime Instance, it was possible. And more importantly, it was standalone.”

“So the dungeon gets a free kill?” Blood sneered, hefting her axe.

“If the entity had executed four or five of those impossible anomalies,” Tyr explained, his tone shifting into the rigid parameters of a referee, “the Framework's own core logic would have officially flagged the pattern as malicious cheating. At two or three, I personally would have blown the whistle, locked the combat data, and the Framework would have ruled the battle as an Alliance victory by default to punish the invader.”

Tyr gestured to the cavern. “The Framework was designed with this exact path to victory in mind. It gamified the apocalyptic invasion of an eldritch invader. It actively leaves a microscopic margin for the enemy to attempt to cheat. Why? Because when the enemy puts its finger on the scale too far and gets caught, the Framework can legally amputate that finger, extracting massive systemic gains for the Alliance. Just like what happened on Highlands, where you rescued six worlds for winning one.”

“A honeypot,” Jake muttered, understanding the brutal logic. “You let the virus act so the immune system can identify and purge it.”

“Precisely,” Tyr nodded.

Fhesiah spoke up, “That sounds like excuses or hollow promises to me. We already know Tartarus is breaking the rules and doing a whole lot more than ‘putting its finger on the scale’ and then burying its cheating–getting away with doing it, somehow, thanks to the Nameless Monk and these other Fixers and betrayers. Something tells me this path of the Framework’s is not working, and it is backfiring instead.”

Tyr sighed. “And you may be right. It’s a sorry state of affairs. Tartarus has spent eons weakening the Framework's Authority. The entity's cheats are becoming bolder, its algorithms harder to audit. We can only be in so many places at once, and our mere presence defies the sanctity of the game. I made it part of the sanctions to become the arbiter for these raids because I was genuinely worried the dungeon might find a way to bury its cheating before The Framework could log it and punish it. But thanks to your collecting evidence and allowing us to penalize it in this way, you ensured its cheating would be limited to just an allowable small tip of the scales.”

Tanda was not happy about this; her brows furrowed and her wings fluttered in anger as she pointed a clawed finger at Tyr. “Allowable? That’s a load of–”

“It is an incredibly expensive desperation tactic, Huntress,” Tyr interrupted, his voice ringing with absolute authority. “You must understand the scale of this war. Tartarus’s preferred method of victory is subtle corruption–using betrayers to subvert a world's defenses from the inside. But you uncovered those betrayers. You purged them.”

Tyr looked back to Jake, his golden eyes intense. “By doing so, you forced the entity into a corner. To create the machinations of that attack, it had to burn a limited resource–a cost it pays just as other Divines do to accomplish it here in this Frontier Sector. Do you believe it is easy to predict the future to that level of accuracy under the Framework’s Authority? And it paid that steep price for a single kill that you immediately undid with a victory, followed by a resurrection. I really was shocked it would even bother trying, and you know that is the truth coming from me.”

Tyr gestured to the dead Abomination. “It did not cheat because it is omnipotent and unstoppable. It cheated because it was losing, grasping at straws, and seeking a victory. Take the win, Clan Hart. You bled its reserves for zero return, weakening its hold over this Sector now and into the future. You have won a major victory here. With any luck, the first of several.”

Jake and his wives shared a look of realization. Framed like that, the exasperation faded into a grim satisfaction. They hadn't just survived a rigged game; they had forced the enemy to waste something that it couldn’t easily replace. They were unable to argue with those results. They had won, and Vexana was alive.

And since they were sure these minor finger-on-the-scales events cost the dungeon dearly and it would pay for them, the tension released from their shoulders. It was a relief to know Tartarus couldn’t spam this tactic in their upcoming battles, and if it grew desperate enough to try, Tyr would be right there to drop the hammer.

It did make them worry slightly about the Framework as a whole, hoping other worlds weren't suffering the same, but the fact that their subordinates had won their instances without facing such insane anomalies proved Tyr’s point. The cheating of this kind was rare because it was exorbitant; not worth it for mere Tier 1 and 2 worlds. Perhaps it really was just because Clan Hart was a true anomaly.

Tyr then looked toward Nessa. The oppressive, evaluating weight of the Arbiter vanished, replaced almost instantly by the stiff, slightly petulant energy of a slighted father.

“Your mother is thrilled to see you soon, Daughter,” Tyr said, forcing a smile. “And your combat forms are... excellent. Varuna’s influence is undeniable.” He said the sea god's name like he was chewing on broken glass. “Though I maintain that my Spark could have synergized perfectly well with your venom and your goals. Somehow. I’m sure the dragon and your husband could have made the physics work. Maybe.”

Nessa exchanged a highly amused glance with Jake. Hestia hadn't been joking when she said the God of War and Law would be completely unreasonable about this.

Stepping forward, Nessa offered him a warm, earnest smile. As a God of Justice and Truth, he would know immediately that she meant every word.

“I truly wanted to choose your Spark, Father,” Nessa said softly, her tone carrying a deep, familial respect. “But my path relies so heavily on the lake and the flow of the rivers, the power of my mother. And I was so afraid that if I tried to force your absolute laws into my venom, I would shatter the foundation and disappoint you. I could not bear to ruin the gift you and Mother gave me.”

She tilted her head, her serpentine eyes softening as she appealed directly to his domain. “Besides, if I am wielding Varuna's water to strike, I still need you looking over my shoulder to ensure my judgment remains true. His absolute forgiveness was not what I sought.”

Tyr paused, his rigid posture melting fractionally. The sheer, genuine honesty in her voice–and the direct appeal to his protective nature, as well as pointing out exactly where Varuna’s philosophy fell short of her needs–was a critical hit to the Arbiter's pride.

He cleared his throat loudly, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a much more genuine, pleased smile. “Yes, well. A sound tactical assessment, I suppose,” Tyr conceded, his tone infinitely lighter. “And you need never worry about disappointing me, my little Nessa. Your judgment on the battlefield was flawless today. Now, I must monitor the other instances to ensure the entity does not attempt any further... anomalies. When it is truly time to celebrate, we will all speak more candidly.”

The heartfelt exchange genuinely boosted Nessa’s mood, and before she could say another word, Tyr dissolved into a column of golden light.

The cavern fell silent again, save for the distant settling of shattered geodes, the many warriors around the cave shattering them and gathering them.

Slowly, the entirety of Clan Hart turned to stare at Nessa. They just blinked at her.

Bree was the first to break the silence, crossing her arms with a thoroughly impressed grin. “Wow. You sure worded that... diplomatically.”

“Diplomatically?” Fhesiah chuckled, her golden eyes gleaming with sheer respect for the manipulation. “She just played the God of Justice like a perfectly tuned instrument. I am suddenly starting to doubt the sincerity of every interaction we have ever had.”

Nessa’s cheeks immediately flushed a deep crimson. She quickly waved her hands, completely dropping her serene, divine aura. “It is tough! Do you have any idea how hard it is being a daughter who literally cannot lie to her father? I had to learn to be tactful fast and early!”

“Tactful,” Ophelia repeated, a sly smirk on her face, her wings fluttering.

“Tactful! Not deceitful... or manipulative! I hear your thoughts!” Nessa insisted, pointing at Blood. Her embarrassment made the other girls laugh.

Jake walked over, wrapping an arm around Nessa's waist and kissing the top of her head, unable to hide his own wide grin. “It was brilliant, Nessa. Honestly, I just can't wait to see how our future daughter flips that exact same 'tact' right back around on you someday.”

Nessa groaned, hiding her glowing red face against Jake's chest while the rest of the family broke into full, tension-relieving laughter.

With the Divine tension finally broken, the family moved to help their warriors collect the remaining loot, shedding their heavy armor for their comfortable tribal outfits to finally relax.

Lissandra had previously planned a march through the streets–a victory parade and party with Blood, Nessa, and Fhesiah. So she exited not long after the dragon loot was collected to finish the preparations, the city officials and more no doubt nearly done and just waiting for the heroes to arrive.

Jake and his wives stayed to help with collecting every ounce of corrupted crystal they could. Each little bit was actually above the current Tier, and was an incredibly valuable material claimed from their enemy. Garona helped them target and rip out every bit across the floor, continuing to work for the entire hour.

When the one-hour timer finally hit zero, the cavern dissolved as they were transported out.