CALAMITY : Legends Of The Chosen

Chapter 52: Chapter 43 - Then You’ll Face Me.



Location: Pyramid Core – Throne Chamber

The room trembled beneath golden pressure — sand rising like breath, forming twisted clones of each Chosen.

At first, hesitation.

But then…

The seven locked eyes — and moved.

Shojiro Momo

With a deep breath, Shojiro cracked his knuckles. His right arm dislocated with a pop — then shot forward like a spring-loaded battering ram.

Ligament Drift.

He clotheslined his clone through two stone pillars and drop-kicked another before it could reform.

"Try mimicking this, weakling."

Leone Shizuku

Her body shuddered, shifting into Ghoul Form — veins pulsing dark violet, eyes glowing, her speed erupting like a ghost unbound.

She blurred forward in flickers, her fists smashing through her clone's jaw, then its ribs, then its spine — all before the sand could harden again.

"Don't ever wear my face."

Morgz Ryuuga

The air snapped into tension as water droplets swirled around Morgz — orbiting faster and faster until they turned into pressurized rounds.

One.

Two.

Five.

Ten.

Each shot nailed his clone with sniper precision, blowing holes clean through the chest and limbs.

"You mock us with copies? Then drown in my name."

Karl Mitsubishi

Nanites slid across Karl's arms like liquid armor, forming dual shoulder cannons and a floating turret behind his back.

"Core charge: 80%. Let's clean up."

He unleashed a cascade of laser fire, blowing apart his sand clone in synchronized bursts — tracking its reforms mid-air and vaporizing them.

"I don't need to copy myself. I already perfected it."

Zans Keifer

Zans exhaled slowly, stepping into his own shadow.

The room dimmed.

His clone leapt — only to freeze mid-strike, trapped in a pool of living blackness.

"Paralyzed."

Kuro's claw erupted from the floor behind it — slicing upward, bisecting the doppelgänger with one clean strike before vanishing.

"You blinked."

Enme Seiko

Enme's hands glowed as she drew glowing barrier glyphs mid-air. Instead of defense, she sent them exploding outward, shattering sand clones with rhythmic blasts.

Glyphs spun like chakrams, slicing through their limbs.

Then a palm strike — and a sigil exploded from under her feet, launching her clone skyward.

"I write my fate — not you."

Max Conrad

Max hovered above them all — Indra Arrows glowing on both arms, black lightning dancing from fingertip to fingertip.

He fired in a full spin — a tornado of supercharged bolts that tore through his clone before it could breathe.

"I'm the lightning.

You're the storm-chaser."

Aftermath

The dust settled.

The battlefield cleared.

The sand-clones?

Destroyed.

The Chosen stood — breath heavy but defiant — seven against the storm.

Saria Reacts

Atop her throne of ancient gold, Saria rose slowly.

Golden particles danced around her as her armor shifted — tighter, sleeker, forming into something divine yet battle-worn.

She stepped forward, each footstep echoing like a war drum in a tomb.

Then — she raised one hand.

The remaining clones disintegrated into golden powder and vanished.

She smiled.

Not mocking.

Not cruel.

Just… intrigued.

"So… this generation does have fire."

"No Eidolons. No sacred weapons. And yet… you broke through. All seven of you."

She pointed toward them — slow, deliberate.

"I'll test you myself."

Max drew both crossbows.

Shojiro cracked his knuckles.

Leone crouched into a ready stance.

Morgz's water spun faster.

Karl's shoulder turrets locked in.

Zans melted into shadow.

Enme's glyphs began to glow.

Saria lifted both arms — the air around her condensing into spiraling gold and sand, forming swords, spears, whips, and chains — a symphony of ancient warfare.

"Come. Let me see if you are warriors… or just children playing in a grave."

The True Battle Begins

Scene: The First Sacrifice

The tension snapped.

Before a single Chosen could move, before the sparks or glyphs could flare—

Saria vanished.

One blink.

One flash of golden light.

One breath too late.

Enme's eyes widened.

She had just begun forming a barrier glyph beneath her palm when—

A golden hand wrapped around her wrist.

Contact.

The effect was instant.

Gold surged from Saria's fingers like molten fire, crawling across Enme's arm, shoulder, chest—

"AH—!!"

The glyph shattered.

Enme's voice cut off.

Her body stiffened mid-motion, one foot still raised in a half-step. Her mouth frozen half-open. One last breath still trapped in her lungs.

She didn't fall.

She didn't cry.

She turned into a perfect statue of gold, etched with fear and fury.

A memory preserved.

Shojiro: "ENME?!"

Leone: "NO—!"

Morgz, furious: "She didn't even flinch—!"

Max took a step forward, lightning surging violently from his arms.

"You touched her—"

Saria raised her hand calmly, gold dust flowing from her fingertips like sand through an hourglass.

"She would've sealed me mid-battle. I removed the threat. Strategically."

Her eyes narrowed — half-apology, half-challenge.

"This is not a sparring match. This is survival."

"Fight like Chosen… or join her in stillness."

Silence.

The seven were now six.

The gold statue of Enme shimmered behind them, still warm from life just moments ago.

And Saria stood alone — gleaming, deadly, beautiful.

Max lowered his head.

"…No holding back."

His Indra Arrows snapped fully into place, black lightning exploding across his back.

Shojiro stepped forward, ligaments snapping.

Zans vanished into smoke.

Karl's visor pulsed red.

Leone shifted mid-sprint.

Morgz's water ring surged like a typhoon.

The battle had begun.

This time, someone already lost.

Perfect. Time to turn up the stakes.

Morgz—emotional, loyal, and always the heart of the team—makes the ultimate decision in a moment of pure instinct. He doesn't hesitate. He sees the threat, sees Leone in danger, and throws himself between her and Saria's killing touch.

And just like that, another Chosen falls—not with a scream, but with a selfless act of love and protectiveness.

Let's deliver this beat like a gut punch. No time to mourn. Only time to feel.

Scene: "You Moved."

Sand howled through the chamber like an ancient scream.

The fight had begun.

It was chaos—VYTHRA flaring, lightning crashing, shadows streaking across walls.

Leone blurred around Saria's flank, aiming a savage strike to her spine—her Ghoul Form pulsing with raw aggression.

But Saria turned.

And her hand shot forward—coated in golden radiance.

"Too slow."

The Midas Touch was aimed for Leone's chest.

Time slowed.

"MOVE!!" Shojiro shouted.

Max turned—but too late.

The world became noise—

—and then silence.

Morgz appeared in front of her.

Just appeared.

Not with a teleport.

Not with power.

Just… speed.

Desperation.

He didn't hesitate.

He stepped between Saria and Leone.

Her hand struck his chest.

Contact.

A horrible crackle of cursed gold spread from the point of impact, racing across his ribcage, his arms, his throat.

"No…!" Leone screamed, catching him by the shoulders.

Morgz smiled — faintly, a little sadly.

"Had to protect you."

His legs buckled.

Leone gripped him, trying to hold him up—but it was too fast. Too cruel.

His face began to solidify.

Gold etched his features like tears.

"It's okay," he whispered.

"You're still here."

Then… nothing.

He became a statue, arms wide, like he was still shielding her.

Golden.

Still.

Gone.

Leone collapsed to her knees.

Shojiro froze.

Zans didn't speak.

Karl's drones trembled mid-air.

Max's eye twitched.

"Saria…" he growled.

"You better be ready to die."

Saria tilted her head, lowering her arm. Not smug. Not even cruel.

Just calm.

"He moved. I respected that."

"Perhaps… more than I expected."

She raised both arms.

"Let's see if the rest of you can keep up."

Six became five.

And the Chosen charged.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.