Tara remembers. "She was at the auction—Archmage Seraphina, the head of the Mage's Guild. She bid on me, but Tejran outbid her. Nine hundred gold, she offered. And now she's here, trying to capture me again. Well, my rate has gone up—higher than you can afford."

  Before he can decide, movement catches his eye. The stone golem lands on the ground with a heavy thud, then charges straight toward the mounted mage. Its stone form is scarred but intact, its runes still glowing, its massive fists raised. It barrels forward with unstoppable momentum, having proven itself powerful enough to handle everything the tower's mages could throw at it.

  The archmage doesn't flinch. She raises her staff, and a single word leaves her lips. A bolt of pure force erupts from the staff, striking the golem mid-charge. The impact is devastating—the left part of the creature's stone body, including its hand, shatters, fragments of granite and obsidian scattering across the ground like shrapnel. The runes flare one last time, then go dark. One moment it's charging, unstoppable. The next it's motionless, reduced to rubble.

  Tara watches in shock. "That golem tanked stone spikes, earth shards, force spells, binding magic—and she destroyed it with one shot," he thinks. "I really don't want to be on the receiving end of that."

  The mage's staff moves again, this time tracing patterns in the air. Runes begin to form around Tara and Unolf, glowing with binding magic. The air itself seems to thicken, pressing down on them, trying to hold them in place.

  Tara doesn't hesitate. He channels an energy blast, firing it directly at the forming runes. The blast collides with the binding magic, the two forces canceling each other out in a flash of light and energy. The runes shatter, the binding spell neutralized before it can take hold.

  Seraphina's composure cracks for a moment—her eyes widen slightly, her grip on her staff tightening.

  Her staff moves again, and the ground itself responds to her will. Stone spikes erupt in a line, racing toward Tara like a wave of earth. Simultaneously, massive boulders materialize above, hurtling down.

  Tara reacts instantly. He leaps and weaves, dodging the spikes. He fires an energy blast upward, shattering a boulder, then dashes forward as another crashes behind him. His 360-degree perception gives him perfect awareness of every threat, his movements fluid and precise.

  Seraphina's expression tightens. The wolf is moving with precision that shouldn't be possible.

  Other mages begin to move, staffs raised, ready to support their archmage. But Unolf doesn't let them. He positions himself between Tara and the approaching mages, his body low, his growl a warning.

  "Don't kill them if possible!" Tara communicates.

  Unolf's form begins to change. His muscles expand, his frame grows larger, his body stretching upward. In moments, he's nearly twice his original size—a massive wolf, his presence now truly intimidating. The mages pause, their eyes widening in shock. What kind of wolf is this?

  When the first mage tries to cast, Unolf lunges. His enlarged, powerful form crashes into the mage, knocking the staff from the mage's hands and sending the mage stumbling back. The impact is far greater than it should be—the mage flies backward, landing hard on the ground.

  Spells fly toward him. Unolf dodges stone projectiles, weaving with surprising agility for his enlarged size, then closes on another mage. Earth shards catch him in the flank—his thick hide absorbs the impact, the fragments bouncing off, barely penetrating. He shakes it off and keeps moving, his massive form a true barrier between Tara and the mages.

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  The mages are panicking. "What is that thing?" one shouts. "It's getting bigger!" They're casting frantically, but Unolf's combination of size, speed, and thick hide makes him nearly unstoppable.

  Tara can see it from the corner of his eye—Unolf buying him time, preventing the other mages from joining the fight. It's working.

  Seraphina's attacks intensify. Her staff traces a complex pattern. A massive hand of stone erupts from the ground, reaching for Tara with impossible speed. He tries to dodge, but the fingers close around him before he can escape, the stone vice gripping him tightly, lifting him off the ground.

  Unolf sees it happen. His head snaps toward Tara, his eyes widening. He abandons the mages he's been holding back, charging toward the stone hand, his massive form barreling forward. But the mages make use of the distraction. Binding spells activate, magical chains wrapping around Unolf's limbs. He struggles, trying to break free, but more chains follow, wrapping around his body, his legs, his neck. The mages work together, their spells layering, reinforcing each other. Unolf's enlarged form thrashes, but the bindings hold. He's trapped.

  Inside the stone fist, Tara feels the pressure building. The fingers are closing tighter, the stone grinding against his wolf form. But he's not panicking. He converts to his pyramid form, then channels his energy, building it up. He releases it—a massive energy blast erupts from within the stone hand, shattering it completely. Fragments of stone explode outward, and Tara shapeshifts back to wolf form, dropping to the ground and landing on all fours, shaking off the debris.

  Seraphina watches him escape, her expression unreadable. Then she stops. Her staff rises higher, and she begins to channel. The air around her starts to shimmer, reality itself seeming to warp. Runes begin to form in the air, but these are different—darker, more complex, pulsing with dangerous energy. The temperature drops. The ground begins to tremble.

  Mages around her notice. Their eyes widen. One of them shouts, "She's going to use it!"

  Another mage turns and runs. "Oh gods, she's channeling it! Run!"

  More mages join the exodus, their spells forgotten, their battle stances abandoned. They scramble away from Seraphina, their voices rising in panic.

  "She's going to use it! Get away from her!"

  "Oh my god, get out of here!"

  "Run! Don't look back!"

  Tara watches as mages flee in every direction, some diving behind cover, others simply running as fast as they can. The ones who were fighting him moments ago are now more concerned with getting away from their own leader than stopping his escape.

  "Uh oh... this looks bad," Tara thinks.

  ********* Chapter end *********

  *I'll still be publishing this coming Friday. Thank you for reading - Cheers!*