Chapter 194: The Dark Magic Trap And Soren’s Fate!

Standing frozen in the biting snow, Neve leaned upward and whispered his plan directly into Skarr’s ear.

His words were low, barely carrying over the howling winter wind that whipped through the clearing. He laid out every detail of his idea with ruthless precision, leaving no room for error.

As Skarr listened, a dark, wicked gleam ignited in his golden eyes. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face, his sharp fangs glistening in the faint light.

Across the snowy expanse, Soren squinted through the icy fog, trying desperately to make out what they were whispering. The distance and the shrieking wind muffled their voices completely, but he could tell they were plotting.

Soren’s brows furrowed as his eyes locked onto the tall, imposing figure beside Neve. Recognition struck him like a splash of ice water, and his chest seized.

’Is that... the snake chief?!’ Soren thought, his mind reeling in shock. ’Don’t tell me Neve managed to tame that creature too?! That cursed red panda!’

Jealousy and raw fury boiled over in Soren’s gut. Unable to vent his rage on Neve just yet, he whipped around and kicked Sorin’s unconscious side again, his legs cracking brutally against the eagle beastman’s ribs. Sorin’s limp body didn’t even twitch.

Neve stepped back, pulling away from Skarr’s ear. The plan was set.

"Are you two done whispering over there?!" Soren bellowed across the clearing, his voice echoing off the frozen trees. "Just so you know, nothing you do is going to work on me! I have dark magic on my side now! I am invincible!"

When Neve and the others offered no response, Soren sneered in disgust, dismissing them entirely.

He turned his focus down to the jagged ritual array carved into the snow beneath Ryker, Kael, and Sorin. Stretching his hands over the pool of dark blood, Soren began to chant.

The words were harsh, guttural, and ancient... a foul language that rasped against the ear and made the surrounding air turn thick and suffocating.

The sky reacted instantly.

Heavy, pitch-black clouds rolled over the mountain peaks, swallowing the pale sunlight in seconds. The wind shrieked like a dying beast, whipping frozen needles of ice through the air. The temperature plummeted so fast that everyone’s breath froze into thick, white clouds the moment it left their lips.

Soren’s eyes ignited with a sickening black light. As his chant grew louder and more frantic, an aura of dark magic erupted around his body, swirling like ink in water. Beneath the three unconscious men, the blood-soaked array began to burn with black, unnatural flames.

The sacrifice had reached its climax.

Soren raised his right hand high into the air, his fingers clawing at the sky as he prepared to utter the final, binding word of the spell.

He didn’t get to finish.

His hand locked in place mid-gesture.

The spell died in his throat, choked off before the syllable could cross his lips.

His entire body went rigid as an invisible, crushing weight clamped down on every muscle, joint, and nerve.

"Separate those, right?" Skarr asked casually, turning to Neve with a calm, bored expression, completely unfazed by the storm of corrupt magic around them.

Neve nodded once, his eyes cold. "Separate them."

With a simple flick of Skarr’s wrist, the swirling storm of dark magic snapped. The black clouds above fractured, the suffocating pressure in the air vanished, and the burning black fire beneath the three men flickered out like a smothered candle.

The ritual was ruined.

Soren’s mind screamed, but his vocal cords refused to vibrate. Skarr had taken total control of his nervous system, turning the leopard chief into a helpless wooden puppet. Soren strained with every ounce of his strength, his neck veins bulging until they nearly burst, but he couldn’t move so much as a finger.

Skarr twitched his fingers, forcing Soren’s legs to walk forward against his will.

Soren’s limbs moved with stiff, unnatural precision. He marched over to the three unconscious men, stooped down, and scooped Ryker up under his left arm. With his right arm, he hoisted Kael over his shoulder. He was then forced to drag Sorin lanky frame by the belt as he marched straight toward Neve’s group.

Even though Soren was completely paralyzed, his eyes were bloodshot and bulging with pure, unadulterated hatred. Tears of frustration leaked from the corners of his eyes, his teeth bared in a silent, savage snarl.

He was being forced to serve the very people he had sought to destroy.

Skarr halted Soren right in front of the group, dropping the three men gently into the snow.

Neve turned immediately to Maren, Aldric, and Cael. "Please get them back to the main cave," he spoke softly. "Get water and warm broth into them. And also, Popi can examine their injuries and wake them up."

Maren stepped forward instantly, his massive shark-beastman strength easily scooping Ryker into his arms. Aldric lifted Kael across his broad shoulders like he weighed nothing, while Cael carefully cradled Sorin against his chest.

"We’ve got them, Neve," Cael said, his golden eyes flashing with relief before he turned toward the path. "Don’t take too long out here."

With quick, powerful strides, the three men carried their unconscious comrades back toward the tribe’s main settlement, leaving Neve, Skarr, and the paralyzed Soren behind.

.

Word of the confrontation had already spread like wildfire. By the time Neve and Skarr reached the center of the Leopard Tribe’s village, the entire population had gathered.

Leopard beastmen, Tiger beastmen, and refugee tribespeople from nowhere packed the open grounds, their faces pale with anxiety. Many of them had been terrified that Soren would return victorious, claiming total dominion over them with his dark magic.

They had not expected to see their fearsome chief walking stiffly behind Neve, moving like a broken toy, completely helpless.

Silence fell over the crowd as Neve stepped into the square. His pregnant belly was prominent under his heavy winter bear sweater the system had given him. Every pair of eyes locked onto him.

Beside a large stone pillar near the edge of the square, Cael, Aldric, and Maren had already propped Ryker, Kael, and Sorin up comfortably against warm furs. Popi was tending to them with wooden cups of water, keeping a watchful eye on their slow recovery.

Turned out, she was still there and not the cave.

Neve walked directly to the center of the high stone platform where the chief usually delivered announcements.

He offered a short, quiet greeting to the crowd.

The response was immediate. A deafening cheer erupted from hundreds of throats. The Tigers and Leopards alike shouted his name, their voices filled with genuine affection and relief. They had missed him terribly during his time in the outcast territory. Without Neve’s presence, the village had felt hollow, and dark..

Neve raised a single hand, cutting the cheers short. He wasn’t here to celebrate just yet.

He glanced over at Skarr. With a subtle nod from Neve, Skarr reached out, snatched a heavy, steel-tipped hunting spear from the hands of a nearby guard, and strode over to Soren.

Neve turned back to the crowd, his voice dropping into a deadly, echoing pitch that chilled the blood of everyone listening.

"I wanted to kill Soren with my own hands," Neve confessed, his eyes darkening as he stared down at the frozen wolf chief. "Believe me... I wanted to rip him apart myself for everything he’s done. I wanted to be the one to end his miserable life."

He paused, letting the heavy weight of his words settle over the silent crowd.

"But then I thought about what he has done to this tribe," Neve continued, his tone cutting through the cold air like a blade. "I thought about how he starved his own people. How he abused his power. How he dragged innocent children into dark caves, and how he tried to sacrifice beastmen to gain foul, dark magic."

Neve raised his chin, pointing a stern finger at Soren.

"He does not belong to me to kill," Neve declared. "He belongs to all of you. He deserves to suffer at the hands of every single person he has wronged!"

A collective gasp rippled through the gathered crowd, followed by a low, furious murmur of agreement.

"Line up," Neve commanded, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Every beastman, every warrior, every mother, and every victim he has harmed. We are going to tie our dear chief to this stake."

A bitter, vicious smile touched Neve’s lips as he looked down at Soren’s trembling, silent form.

"I wonder... how many stabs will it take before his life finally leaves his body?"

No one dared to speak against him. The atmosphere in the square turned thick with vengeance.

At Neve’s command, Skarr forced Soren’s puppeted body forward, slamming him back-first against a massive wooden pillar that guards quickly secured in the center of the square. Rough hemp ropes were lashed around Soren’s chest, arms, and legs, binding him tightly to the timber.

Even with the ropes tight, Skarr kept his spatial hold on Soren’s muscles, ensuring the disgraced chief couldn’t struggle, scream, or close his eyes.

The crowd began to form a slow, ominous line. Anger, long buried under fear, flared bright in the eyes of the villagers. Some held hunting knives; others gripped iron spears or sharp stones.

Neve stepped back beside Cael and his recovered mates, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the villagers approach the stake.

"This," Neve whispered softly, a sense of grim satisfaction settling in his heart, "is going to be a real relief."