Chapter 163: What is he planning?
The earth beneath it trembled as the creature's chest heaved, and its muscles tensed, preparing to rise once again.
Lyerin's lips twisted into a knowing smile.
He had expected this.
Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and produced another small pouch, this one filled with a vibrant green powder.
With a swift flick of his wrist, he threw the powder toward the Minotaur's face.
Pooosh!
The beast inhaled, and almost immediately, the green smoke enveloped it.
Its eyes fluttered shut, and the immense body slackened as it drifted back into the deep clutches of sleep.
Lyerin knew that such tricks wouldn't work forever.
The Minotaur was far too resilient, and it would eventually adapt to the powders and tricks he was using. But he had prepared for this.
In his previous life as a scavenger, always living on the edge of survival, he had learned the importance of being over-prepared.
Sleeping powders, paralyzing powders, confusion powders—he had them all.
Each one different, each one capable of subduing even the most formidable foes.
But Lyerin wasn't just stalling.
He had a plan.
With the Minotaur immobilized for the moment, he turned his attention back to the massive stone statue that stood at the heart of the Stonehooves Tribe.
It towered over the Tribe.
Moving with deliberate speed, Lyerin approached the statue, his fingers tracing along its weathered surface.
He reached into his magic ring once more, this time pulling out a small vial of glowing liquid.
He uncorked it and began pouring the liquid over the base of the statue, muttering softly under his breath as he did so.
With the liquid as his ink, Lyerin began inscribing a series of complex magical runes and circles onto the statue.
Each line was precise, drawn with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.
The glowing liquid seemed to sink into the stone itself, the runes pulsing faintly as they took shape.
The people of the Stonehooves Tribe watched in stunned silence.
None of them dared to interrupt him, too afraid to even ask what he was doing.
Corora, her voice filled with trepidation, whispered to Sophia, "What is he doing now?"
Sophia shook her head, her eyes wide. "I don't know, but… it looks important."
Once he had finished with the statue, Lyerin moved back to the slumbering Minotaur.
The beast's massive chest rose and fell rhythmically, but its body was entirely still.
Lyerin knew he had only a limited amount of time before it woke again, angrier and stronger than before.
Without wasting a moment, he knelt beside the creature and began to inscribe a matching set of magical circles onto its body, drawing over its leathery skin with the same glowing liquid.
The runes flowed across the Minotaur's body like a web of light, each stroke glowing brighter as Lyerin worked.
Sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he didn't stop.
He couldn't afford to.
With every second that passed, the Minotaur was one step closer to waking.
When the final circle was complete, Lyerin stood back, inspecting his handiwork.
The statue and the Minotaur were now connected by an invisible thread of magic, each circle pulsing in time with the other.
Satisfied, Lyerin retrieved another pouch from his belt, this time a potent mix of sleeping powder laced with paralytic magic.
He approached the Minotaur once more, placing the powder near its nostrils and letting it drift into the beast's airways.
The creature's breathing slowed again, and for the briefest of moments, Lyerin felt a wave of relief. But this was only the beginning.
He stood up, closed his eyes, and raised both hands toward the sky. His voice, low and steady at first, began to chant.
The ancient words of a long-forgotten spell rolled off his tongue, each syllable carrying the weight of an untold power.
The magic circles on both the Minotaur and the statue began to glow brighter, their light intensifying with each word.
"Erionis ta'kal... Shen'tar volkor..." Lyerin's voice deepened, the chant growing more complex with each passing moment.
The air around him seemed to shimmer, and the ground beneath him vibrated as the spell took hold.
"Vrakon il'viran, sel'tor karithor!"
The runes on the Minotaur began to pulse in time with his words, their light growing stronger, casting long shadows across the ground.
"Kal'dros imenai... fel'nor verethra!" His voice grew louder, more commanding. The magic circle on the statue flared with a bright white light, and the statue itself seemed to tremble as the spell surged through it.
"Vornis ta'leth, del'ron karess!"
The glow intensified, the circles now shining like miniature suns. Lyerin's voice echoed across the village, growing in volume and intensity.
His eyes were closed, his hands shaking as the magic built to a crescendo.
"Rein'tor vashtal, il'vorn kalethar!"
The chant reached a fevered pitch, the magic pouring from the circles in waves.
The air around the Minotaur and the statue crackled with energy, and the ground beneath them seemed to hum with power.
"Verethar karithon... il'shan kal'tharos!"
The final words of the spell left Lyerin's lips, and with them came a burst of brilliant light.
The magic circles flared one last time, their glow so intense that it forced the tribe's people to shield their eyes.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, slowly, the light began to fade.
The magic circles dimmed, their power spent, but the connection between the Minotaur and the statue remained.
The creature still lay motionless, its body now bound by the spell Lyerin had cast.
…
Far above, in the dark realm where the six-armed creatures watched, the shadows shifted.
At first, they had been intrigued by Lyerin's tactics.
The sleeping powders had impressed them—after all, it was well known that the Minotaur could adapt to most attacks, and using different powders had been a clever move.
They had nodded approvingly, acknowledging the scavenger's preparedness.
But now, as they watched Lyerin's intricate ritual, their intrigue turned to confusion.
"What is he doing?" one of the shadows muttered, its voice dripping with curiosity.
"I thought this human was just buying time," another shadow said, its tone thoughtful. "But this… this is something else."
"The runes he's using," a third shadow chimed in, "they're not just for binding. There's something more to this spell."
"Could it be?" one of the shadows mused, its six arms twitching as it leaned forward. "Is he trying to alter the creature itself? To link it to the statue?"
"Impossible," another shadow scoffed. "No one would dare try such a thing. The Minotaur is a force of nature, an embodiment of rage and strength. To bind it to anything would be—"
"Foolish," another shadow interrupted. "And yet… it's working. Look at how the circles pulse in unison."
"Impressive, I must admit," one of the larger shadows said. "But I still don't see the endgame here. What does he hope to achieve by binding the Minotaur to a statue?"
"Perhaps he's not as foolish as we thought," another shadow muttered, its tone begrudging. "Still, this is dangerous. He's playing with forces he doesn't fully understand."
They continued to watch in silence, the laughter from before replaced by a quiet sense of curiosity.
Lyerin had proven himself more resourceful than they had anticipated, but they were still uncertain of his ultimate plan.
…
Meanwhile, on Earth, the Asura girl had reappeared once again, her ethereal form hovering over the various cities and towns as she watched Lyerin's actions unfold.
"Lyerin claims this isn't a problem," she said, her voice laced with skepticism. "But what is he planning? The Minotaur is a beast born of pure rage, its power growing with each defeat. It cannot be subdued forever."
As she spoke, the people of Earth watched in growing unease, their eyes glued to the screens that broadcasted the unfolding events.
Fear and uncertainty gripped them, for they knew that the fate of their world hung in the balance.
"Lyerin," the Asura girl muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, "what are you trying to do?"