There is no faster way to destroy a well-decorated palace than with lightning magic. Due to its destructive properties, fast travel time, and tendency to jump from one metal object to the next, all it can take are a few seconds before anything standing in its path gets decimated.

Glavas' finger danced up and down the trigger of his firearm. With each gunshot, numerous tiny lightning bolts shot out of the barrel and began bouncing around the throne room. The servants ran away screaming, sometimes tripping and falling to the ground as the projectiles hit them, causing brief but immense pain. The guards, however, were doing far worse. Each time the bullet would land on their metal armor, the magic would chain all over their body. They could not even run. Some have managed to quickly hide in the rooms over to the side, but most have failed to do so. Two or three zaps brought them to their knees or directly to the floor, and as the relentless rain of magic continued to beat against their bodies, their life was slowly withering away. Some of them tried to crawl or stand up again, but there seemed to be no end to the attacks. A thousand needles kept stabbing their whole body over and over as they twitched on the ground, their own muscles refusing to listen.

The king quickly leaped behind his throne and took cover there. Sometimes, he felt something bite him in his back as a stray bullet found his way to him, but fortunately, he managed to hide away from the worst of it.

Two of the royal wizards peeked out of their hiding place in one of the rooms to the left of the entrance. They saw Glavas approaching. His gun was smoking and still firing bullet after bullet. He was now up the stairs and on his way toward the throne. The entire palace was shaking under that horrid music of his.

"Protect me, I'll snatch that weapon!" one of the wizards told his friend, who immediately nodded. They opened the door ever so slightly, just enough to see Glavas.

"Ikigam tyst," the one in the front whispered. A small transparent shell formed around them. The few bolts of lightning that found their way to their door have casually bounced off.

The other wizard crouched and while hypnotizing the ground with an unblinking gaze, he muttered: "Ereved." A small purple portal opened in the wooden floor. He then quickly looked toward Glavas and a similar gateway appeared beside him. The wizard smiled and reached into it. His hand appeared on the other side and stretched out towards the hunter's weapon.

A high-pitched screaming distracted the one holding the shield. He turned around, only to see his friend whimpering on the ground, clutching a bleeding stump where his right hand used to be. One of the extra shadow hands on Glavas' back shook the blood off the sword. The hunter's eyes briefly turned to the side. Judging by the screaming, he guessed that the portal intruder was hiding over there. A single precisely aimed shot pierced the wooden door, delivering a set of numerous lightning bullets into the shield wizard's back. Such an amount was lethal. The mage fell to the ground beside his ally, unable to even scream before he passed away. The other lay there, desperately trying to stop his bleeding while his body was getting numb. The poison covering the blade caused short-time paralysis. However, even such a short time was enough to let the wizard helplessly bleed out.

The screams of the people outside began reaching the palace. A tornado picked up some of the buildings and started tossing them around. Many suddenly found another living room inside their own living room. People yelled for help, trapped under the rubble or carried high into the air and thrown around.

A pair of magically conjured eyes had been watching it all. One of them was gazing at the destruction outside, while the other was observing the massacre in the palace.

"So?" one of the soldiers hiding in the room behind the throne asked the royal archmage.

"Prepare your bows. We will swarm him." The soldiers did as he asked. They reached to their backs and prepared to head out into the fight when the wizard stopped them.

"Wait. Not physically. I will conjure up portals. My two apprentices have given me an idea. Just shoot through the gateways."

Glavas had crossed barely a third of the room when more purple portals began appearing all around him. Arrows spewed out of them in an alarming amount. The hands on his back managed to parry or take some of the projectiles. Whenever Glavas tried to attack back, however, the gate disappeared and popped out in a different place. The arrows kept on flying. Some have managed to find their mark, but have only slightly pierced the magical armor of darkness. None of the wounds Glavas received were deep, but a higher amount of them would quickly become troublesome. He had to get rid of the magic and fast. The hand holding his sealing scroll rolled it open. The hunter crouched down and the other hands each grabbed a piece of the runed paper, holding it around him. The symbols began to glow and soon, the purple energy of the portals started getting sucked away into the paper. The archwizard smiled.

"It's over. We got him. Portal magic should not be sealed or condensed. Cover your ears, boys." They all listened and placed their hands on their heads.

Glavas struggled as the scroll vibrated so strongly it could barely be held. All four of the extra hands squeezed it shut, and even with all their strength, it would only take a few seconds before it would burst open. The hunter quickly reached into his bag and swapped the gem inside his gun. Then, without wasting a second, he pointed the scroll toward the throne opened it, and fired a single bullet of wind magic.

The portal magic flew out of the page, but with no proper source or destination, it began collapsing on itself. What emerged out of the scroll was the equivalent of a miniature black hole. It sucked up some of the air magic from the projectile, but not before the sudden impact made it gain a new trajectory. It flew off in the direction of the wind bullet, right toward the throne. The king did not even know what was coming his way. He cowered behind his fancy chair until the magic ate him alive. Meanwhile, the recoil of the weapon knocked Glavas away and all the dark Hands had to grab something to keep him from getting sucked in as well.

"Shit!" the archwizard growled and shouted: "Tropelet!" Within a second, he teleported himself to the far corner of the room. The other soldiers only gave him a confused look before the magic ate through the wall and continued forward, claiming their lives. By the time it had consumed enough and finally disappeared, there was a perfectly round tunnel carved through almost the entire palace. Only a tiny shard of the king's crown had managed to remain behind.

When the king drew his final breath as if the city itself knew it. It began falling more and more into chaos while the elements tried their best to reclaim it.

"Pull! Please!" one of the citizens cried out to their friend, who was desperately trying to move them from underneath fallen rubble.

"I'm trying! the other person shouted as they put all the force they could muster behind their attempt. It was not working.

"Wait, I will go look for some help. We can get you out if we lift the rocks."

"No! Don't leave me!"

It was as if nature had listened to his wish, which came to be in the most gruesome way. The earthquake shook Rotler once again. The ground cracked and molten magma spilled out. In one big splash, it covered both the poor trapped soul and the friend who tried to help him. They would greet death side by side.

With the king gone and the wizard letting most of the men die, the rest of the soldiers present have panicked. If they wanted to kill Glavas, they had to do so in one coordinated effort. A seemingly endless stream of soldiers rushed into the throne room. Those capable of magic were tossing fireballs, frost shards, and lightning bolts toward the hunter. They had absolutely no effect. Hollow metal noises like the ringing of a bell flooded the hallways. One of the dark hands holding the long staff was in charge of the defenses. Against the magical weapon, the spells had no chance. Upon impact, they dissipated into nothing.

The ones who were armed with more brawn than brain rushed the elf. They hoped to take him down with one of the formations they practiced. None of it worked. With the extra magical arms, it seemed as if Glavas had eyes everywhere. Sword slashed the guards' throats, the spear impaled them, and a small sickle made of light blue metal proved to be excellent at dismembering. With the staff used for defense, it was impossible to get too close. Any more complex magic got sealed away into the scroll, so that was out of the question too. And with his gun, Glavas' attacks had a terrifying reach as well, even though with the current element, his bullets lacked their lethal strength. They still caused a lot of pain though.

"Activate the fucking golems!" one of the guards shouted at the wizards.

"But our people..."

"NOW!" the mages didn't have any other choice but to listen. After all, sacrifice was a well-known concept to them.

The eyes of the golems flashed red and the massive hulking chunks of meat and metal began walking towards the hunter. They paid little attention to the guards standing in their way. The fortunate ones managed to run away. Those lying wounded on the ground, however, soon learned just how heavy the golems truly were.

The construct on the left side of the room made it towards Glavas first. It swung its plated arm, making a large hole in the ground. The elf moved out of the way with relative ease and waved his sickle around. The light blue metal glistened. At that moment, the golem saw an opportunity. Glavas was just standing there, not even attacking back. It smashed him with one powerful fist. Something was wrong though. Instead of blood and bones, the elf shattered into small glass-like shards, which soon started to disappear. The golem's eye darted across the room before it felt something impale its chest. The hunter was standing behind it. His spear had extended its black tip into an unnatural length, which perfectly took care of the child inside the construct. Glavas sighed and gripped his weapons even harder. The loud thud as the golem fell to the ground was a confirmation that the person inside it was finally granted the mercy of death.

The massacre inside the palace continued, while other lives were being extinguished in the streets outside. Water was filling the roads, eager to accompany other elements. The wind picked up and was now so strong at certain parts that it eroded the buildings.

"Come on! Grab the edge, I got you!" a woman was encouraging her friend, who fell into a deep, flooded crack in the earth. He could not swim. It was as if the elements knew exactly where to strike and against who. But the woman was not willing to let him drown. She was desperately holding his hand and was pulling him back up to dry land. For a moment, in order to fully focus on her strength, she braced her legs against the rocks beside her and closed her eyes. With all her might, she was determined to save him. But the wind could not leave the water hanging. Suddenly, the man became almost weightless to her. She fell backward to the ground, still clutching his arm. Unfortunately, it was the only part of him she managed to pull out. Her scream came at the same time as his. When the wind magic cut off his arm, he barely registered it at first. The pain came a few seconds later. He screamed out, letting far too much water enter his lungs. Desperately did he try swimming up to the surface, only to be claimed by the deep.

The inside of the throne room was finally quiet, even though the elements were still raging outside, shaking up even the palace itself. The soldiers were dead. Not all of them, but those left were either too afraid to fight or were trying to find some miraculous solution. The other Golem was, just like its colleague, lying on the floor with no life to sustain it. Glavas was finally prepared to go through with the final stage of his plan when he saw one more person enter the room. The way they carried themselves invoked respect. They walked slowly, with their arms raised in front of them and ready for defense. What was more upsetting, however, were the person's robes. Long, purple, with golden edges. The pointy hat on their head was just the tip of the iceberg. The man wore the garments of an archmage. For a brief moment, both Glavas and the wizard eyed one another. This was it. The final hurdle standing between Glavas and Rotler. The city's final protector.