A Survivor's life in the dungeon (A Danmachi Fanfic.)

Chapter 91

With a primal roar, August unleashed the extreme magic inside Beowulf. Like the smite of the gods, lightning crackled inside the primal spear as it beamed straight towards the creature. A flash of red light erupted as a deafening, thunderous boom shook the air.

The spear traveled true, a beam of red flew straight towards the heart of the creature, scorching the very air as everything in its path seemed to make way for the spear to connect.

The red lightning formed into a wolf, pouncing towards its prey, bringing nothing but death, like the predator that it is.

The spear made contact, straight to the core of the creature; it didn't even pose any resistance. The red lightning erupted inside the creature, destroying everything within, its skin charred as the unending volts and mana bombarded.

It embedded itself into the ground, passing through the abomination like it was nothing; the spear encountered no resistance from the creature's tough skin.

The deafening roar of the crimson lightning subsided, leaving behind an eerie silence that settled over the city of Orario. The air was thick with the scent of burnt ozone and lingering magic, a testament to the cataclysmic battle that had just taken place. August stood amidst the aftermath, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes, once filled with determination, now held a mix of exhaustion and something deeper, something primal. But it soon vanished as the mana inside his body started to disappear all too quickly.

The magic Endless battle had now come to an end with the death of the creature; every ounce of pain, fatigue, and mana exhaustion assaulted August.

The once-terror that had plagued the city now lay motionless, its body charred and lifeless. The red beam of destruction had struck true, piercing its heart with unerring accuracy. The threat was finally over, but the cost had been immense.

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The gods could feel their skin crawling; all they could do was stand still, unmoving, as the fear slowly subsided. It was surreal; never did they think they would feel the dread and despair of a Theïkó óplo releasing its extreme magic.

The remnant of the mana clung in the air; a touch of it made the gods want to vomit at how sinister the mana was—for them—.

Hades was the first to move; he could no longer feel the presence of the creature. He gulped and quickly ordered his familia—who were also glued to the ground—to hurriedly check on the amphitheater.

This made Buddha and Thor snap as well. Using all of their natural speed, the two gods dashed towards the amphitheater to see if their blood brother survived.

They too felt the magic that was released by the primal spear. They were worried that the god-killing weapon may have also claimed the life of Heracles along with the creature.

The gods rushed to the scene, their divine senses stretched to the limit, searching for any trace of Heracles amidst the aftermath. Hades' familia was the first to reach the amphitheater; their eyes widened in shock at the devastation before them. The once-mighty creature lay in a smoldering heap, its body a testament to the sheer power of Beowulf's extreme magic.

And they found August, standing still and unmoving, and Heracles just staring at his child with a grimace on his face. August's eyes had no light in them; his breathing was faint, and his face had this sunken, pale look.

Heracles moved shakily towards his child; every step was painful as the wound in his left leg squirted out blood at every move he made. The god stopped in front of his child.

August looked at his god with a shaky voice; he spoke. "I-I did it... Old man." He coughed blood as he fell forward, Heracles catching him by his chest.