Chapter 5965

“What cursed art is this? Fall back!”

The Great Elder’s voice squeaked at the edges, already losing substance. He clawed at the air, flooding himself with power, yet the drag obeyed laws beyond brute force.

The Third Elder’s charm failed first.

Jared heard nine sharp pops—each skull bead cracking apart. The gray spirits sealed inside wailed once before the invisible funnel swallowed them, grinding their shrieks into raw, ravenous power.

“No—my treasure!” the Third Elder cried, his voice splintering through the roar.

He folded around the empty chain, ribs heaving as though the loss had torn something inside him that even blood could not reach.

“Still worrying about trinkets when your pulse has minutes left?”
The taunt slid across the chamber, oily and amused.