Blood was still dripping from his lips.
The ogre he had just slain lay on the ground, its throat slit with inhuman precision.
Lior leapt backward, his feet briefly leaving the ground. Instantly, he lost contact with the vibrations.
> Skill "Telluric Condition" deactivated.
He crashed to one knee, gasping for air.
— Healer... now... he whispered.
> Skill "Healer Level 3" – Activated.
10% of the wound healed.
Pain reduction: 30%.
New effect: ability to transfer pain to another target.
Warning: pain will still persist despite the transfer.
Lior gave a bitter smile.
— Even when I share it... I still carry it all. How ironic...
Around him, the eight ogres were frozen.
They hadn't understood.
Their comrade had fallen before they could even blink.
They hadn't even seen him move.
So they took up fighting stances, snorting, tusks forward, clubs raised.
Lior spat a trickle of blood, slowly got back on his feet, and raised a trembling hand.
— I just needed five seconds to heal.
His fingers trembled. Then stilled.
— Deactivate Healer. Activate... Telluric Condition.
> Executing.
"Telluric Condition Level 3" activated.
Range: 200 meters. Real-time analysis.
The world began to vibrate.
He still couldn't see.
But he could feel everything.
The heavy steps of the ogres.
Their ragged breathing.
The ground buckling beneath their weight.
The wind twisting around their movements.
And then, the threads returned.
A dozen, then two, then dozens more.
They began to dance around him, like living snakes, like invisible marionette strings at the fingertips of a blind god.
He raised them all at once.
BOOM.
The ground exploded.
Beneath the ogres' feet, stone pillars shot upward, locking their legs like steel traps.
One tried to jump, but a thread slashed clean through the back of his knee.
Another swung his club, but the ground gave way beneath him, and he crashed onto his side.
Then, the ballet began.
---
Choreography of the Telluric Puppeteer
Lior leaned slightly.
A thread shot to the right, piercing an ogre's temple, forcing him to spin in place.
A second thread wrapped around another's hand, snapping his fingers one by one with sharp jerks.
Lior stood at the center, spinning slowly, arms raised.
Every movement was calculated.
Every vibration served as a musical score.
Each ogre became a disjointed puppet.
One of them was lifted off the ground, crucified by invisible cables,
then torn in half, slowly, amidst screams of ripping flesh.
Another's legs shattered, his neck strangled by a loop rising from the ground,
as if the earth itself wanted to swallow him whole.
Lior was no longer a boy.
He was a conductor of the earth, a weaver of death,
a blind king in a blood-soaked theatre.
The ogres panicked.
But none could escape.
They were caught in a macabre dance.
The threads cracked, coiled, razor-sharp.
The earth vibrated, sensing their intent before they even acted.
Telluric Condition predicted their deaths before they could move.
Lior no longer sweated. He bled from the mouth, but his face was still.
And after three minutes... not a single one was left standing.
---
Silence returned. Thick. Absolute.
Lior, out of breath, collapsed to his knees, the threads vanishing into the earth.
— It hurts... but I'm still breathing.