The Extra Wants Control

The labyrinth shuddered, echoing groans resonating through the crumbling stone as the vast expanse compressed towards a single chamber. Walls lurched closer, forcing the remaining participants into an uneasy convergence. Lana was confused as no other trial popped up no matter how many Chambers she entered.

A tense silence hung in the air, replaced only by the sounds of stones grinding against each other as they moved.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the encroaching darkness. Elrohir, his face etched with a desperate purpose, stumbled into the chamber. His usually dark black hair was matted with sweat and dust, a testament to the battle he'd fought. His eyes, however, locked onto Lara with a laser focus that belied his fatigue and injuries.

Relief, laced with a dangerous edge, flickered in them. He had found his target. And Lara who had been tracking this assassin by the use of a spirit, had confirmed that this amn was indeed tge assassin.

Without preamble, Elrohir launched himself at Lara. He fought with a ferocity born of desperation, his movements honed by years of experience. Yet, Lara was a force of nature.

Elrohir, already weakened by his battles within the tomb, was clearly outmatched. Lara parried his blows with ease, her counters swift and precise. Despite his valiant effort, his exhaustion and the limitations of being a lower seven-star fighter caught up with him.

With a well-placed kick, Lara disarmed Elrohir, sending his blade clattering across the dusty floor. The glint of steel was replaced by a cold, menacing glint in her eyes she leveled one of her arrows at his chest. The fight was anticlimactic. She'd thought it would be something difficult but it wasn't .

"Tell me about your employer," Lara's voice, devoid of warmth, echoed in the chamber. "The Twin Daggers."

Elrohir remained silent, his jaw clenched, a defiant glint in his eyes. Lara's lips tightened into a hard line. She wouldn't tolerate defiance. Her gaze flickered to the shimmering needle tucked in her holster. A cruel efficiency settled over her features.

She plunged the needle into Elrohir's arm. A jolt coursed through his body, his eyes widening in shock. Before he could react, he slumped unconscious, his rigid form crumpling to the floor.

With practiced ease, Lara retrieved a small, intricately carved crystal cocoon from a pouch on her belt. She placed the unconscious Elrohir within, whispering an arcane command as the crystal pulsed with a soft blue light, encasing him in a stasis field. With a flick of her wrist, the crystal cocoon vanished into a ring on her finger.

"I'll deal with you later," Lara muttered to herself, a cold glint in her eyes.

**************

The walls groaned in protest, the shrinking labyrinth squeezing the remaining participants closer and closer. Panic flickered in some eyes, replaced by a wary curiosity in others.

Axl, his breathing ragged with exertion, stumbled into a new chamber. His gaze swept the room, searching for any sign of escape, any way out of this suffocating tomb.

Then his eyes landed on a familiar yet too different Vampire, Neveah.

Neveah, however, was not the same slender figure Axl remembered. The vampire was different, molded into a more imposing form. His frame had filled out, his muscles now toned and defined beneath his clothes. And though Axl hated to admit it, even in the dim light, Neveah's sharp features had morphed into a striking handsomeness, his black hair framing red eyes that held an unsettling intensity.

For a moment, Axl didn't recognize him, thought he was someone else.

But the nonchalant, dismissive eyes, the vampire who had humiliated him at the combat assessment and continued looking at him and everyone else with disinterest as if they were nothing.

As a flicker of recognition ignited in those red eyes, and a wave of anger crashed into Axl.

This was him. The same infuriating vampire who had 'mocked' Axl's every misstep. The same infuriating elf who had effortlessly outmatched him every day from the start of the academy. Axl's humiliation boiled over, fueled by the adrenaline of the trials and the frustration of being trapped and looking for the vampire for hours, he found him. He wouldn't let this opportunity pass him by.

He wouldn't let Neveah live.

A surge of dark energy pulsed through Axl, his vision blurring at the edges. Ignoring the crumpled form of Topaz sprawled unconscious on the floor, Axl locked eyes with Neveah. His fangs extended, a guttural growl escaping his throat. Bloodshot eyes burned with a predatory glint as he lunged towards Neveah, fueled by a desire for vengeance.

The walls of the chamber creaked and groaned as Axl slammed into Neveah, a crackling ball of fury. Lightning danced around his aura-enhanced fists as he rained down blow after blow. Neveah, however, was a whirlwind of controlled chaos. He weaved through the onslaught, a graceful predator to Axl's raging bull.

His hands, imbued with dark energy, blurred as he parried Axl's lightning-infused strikes, the sharp crackle of electricity meeting the chilling hiss of darkness.

Axl, frustrated by his lack of progress, slammed his fist into the ground. The earth rumbled in response, a jagged wall of rock erupting from the floor to block Neveah's escape. With a flick of his wrist, Neveah conjured a wave of gravity, compressing the ground beneath the rock wall, sending it crumbling back into the floor.

The chamber became a battleground of elemental fury. Sparks flew as Axl channeled lightning into his body, his attacks becoming bolder, more reckless. Neveah, calm amidst the chaos, countered with chilling bursts of darkness, his movements precise and deadly.

Seeing his brute force tactics failing, Axl reached into his pocket, a glint of triumph flickering in his crimson eyes. He withdrew a small, intricately carved stone, its surface pulsing with an ominous green glow. Before Neveah could react, Axl chanted a low incantation, the stone flaring to life.

"Too late! Behold!" Axl roared, a smug smirk twisting his lips. "The power of the Dragon's Call!"

Neveah felt a surge of curiosity as unfamiliar energy pulsed through the chamber. 'Dragon's call, was it?' thought Neveah.

He lunged forward, a wave of dark energy aimed at disrupting the artifact's activation. But Axl was faster. He moved as if teleported, a guttural laugh escaping his lips.

As the green light reached its peak, the chamber shuddered. Axl's smirk faltered, replaced by a surprised gasp. Four figures stumbled out of the swirling vortex first – Draven,a confused Moira, Carson, and the dragon students, not all but just his elites, those in the top 1000, they were 87 of them.

Confused murmurs filled the chamber. The newly arrived dragons, disoriented and bewildered, glanced around. Their confusion turned to terror as Axl's voice, dripping with malicious intent, echoed through the room.

"Kill him!" he roared, his voice tinged with a hint of madness.

His command was met with a chilling silence. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, their confusion morphed into a primal rage. Their eyes glowed red, a chilling hunger twisting their features. It was clear – Axl's artifact had worked. It had enslaved them, transforming them into mindless puppets driven by a single, savage purpose – to kill.

Neveah sighed, a deep weariness settling upon him. He surveyed the scene

Neveah became a whirlwind of controlled fury. Darkness tentacles writhed around him, coiling and lashing out with the precision of a serpent. Icy blasts erupted from his fingertips, freezing the air and slowing the dragons' movements. Gravity, his unseen hand, slammed them into the dusty floor, momentarily stunning them.

But they were relentless. Driven by the maddening curse of the Dragon's Call, they fought like mindless beasts, throwing everything they had at Neveah. Fire roared from their maws, claws ripped at the air, and their tails lashed out with bone-crushing force. It was a chaotic symphony of destruction.

Neveah, however, was a maestro of war. Years of honing his combat skills in the shadows flowed through him. He weaved through the maelstrom, deflecting fire blasts with shields of darkness, his movements a blur of silver and black. His ice magic, precise and deadly, froze limbs mid-swing, shattering them in the next instant.

He fought like a storm, elegant and brutal in equal measure. But the sheer number of dragons was overwhelming. One by one, he brought them down, but for every dragon he incapacitated, another surged forward, fueled by the insatiable hunger for his demise.

His movements became more brutal, dictated by necessity. Gravity became a crushing force, pinning dragons to the ground, their bones snapping under the pressure. Ice spears carving deep wounds, the crimson bloom staining the dusty floor.

He was brutal, if he had been weak it would be him laid on the floor; he was a survivor, a dark wind reaping a brutal harvest. But even with every dragon he felled, the tide seemed unending. They crawled towards him, a grotesque tableau of broken bodies propelled by a twisted will. Moira, her once vibrant scales dull and lifeless, dragged herself forward with a single-minded determination.

Draven, a mangled mess of bone and muscle, roared in defiance.

Neveah's looked at it coldly, there was no room for sentimentality. With a heavy sigh, he unleashed a wave of darkness so potent it seemed to swallow the chamber itself. The dragons, bathed in its chilling embrace, finally ceased their movement. They lay still, their bodies broken, their eyes vacant husks, they were alive, but barely.

From the corner, Axl watched in stunned silence. His face, a mask of fury and disbelief, contorted as he saw his 'elites' fail. He had expected a swift victory, not this gruesome ballet of death.

With a roar, Axl charged into the fray, a pathetic attempt to salvage his twisted plan. Neveah, resolute, met him head-on. A single, icy blast sent Axl sprawling, hitting the wall breaking it.