The Golem Mage Chapter 1089: Chaotic Countdown.

Right then, the War God Mage Team's score hovered just shy of 300, teetering on the brink of triumph with everyone fully aware, yet suddenly, a formidable burst of aura exploded from the Bloodline Academy's ranks as their mages soared into the air, heading directly for the central rune.

Their purpose this time was unmistakable.

They aimed not only to seize back the central spot but to do so while making sure no War God Mage Team members escaped like Pale and Endrick had managed before.

Upon arrival, they discovered the War God team positioned and ready around the central rune area.

“You tricked us back there... but it won't repeat,” Damien declared, his stare fixed on Alec, who remained composed at the rune's heart, while Alec’s teammates had assumed tactical spots across the field.

Endrick perched on the rooftop of a ruined structure, Lucas held position on the ground level below the hovering central platform, Pale steadied atop a close stone column, and Brandon lingered nearby, appearing casual but oddly inscrutable.

Damien’s eyes naturally drifted to Brandon.

The creeping doubt in his mind was hard to suppress, having felt the quicksand trap's potency up close, he refused to fall into another such snare.

Nevertheless, their slight delay in arriving bothered him deeply, convinced that in those fleeting seconds, Brandon might have set up yet another trap.

“You'll need to battle us to see if that's the case,” Alec answered Damien steadily, then gestured skyward at the hovering projection array showing the live scores.

“Oh, and... playtime's done. Starting now, go full throttle or risk defeat.”

Alec seemed to taunt them with how mere minutes stood between his team and victory, but rather than cow them, his words—particularly that motion—stoked the Bloodline team's fury even more.

Tension shattered in an instant, and immediately after, thunderous cheers exploded as spectators anticipated the battle's savage climax that would drive them wild, already envisioning its chaos.

“All members, hold nothing back. Transform. We can't afford another loss this round; excuses won't fly if we do,” Dragov ordered, his form already starting to alter.

[> Bloodline Transformation – Stage 2 <]

In that instant, a brief wooden horn resembling a dragon's sprouted from the left of his forehead, though that marked just the start.

A sleek, lengthy tail unfurled behind him, paired with a lone wing on his left, his features encased in crystalline dragon scales, his stature grew taller, muscles swelling massively.

Now gripping his enormous greatsword single-handedly, he appeared anything but diminutive.

“Fuck me...” Alec whispered upon witnessing the shift, knowing Dragov had grown immensely tougher to handle.

Simultaneously, Carmilla and Damien shuddered faintly, their pallid skin paling further as nails extended— not overly lengthy, yet razor-sharp to rip a human throat with precise force.

Yet the standout shift was their blood-red eyes and protruding fangs, fully unveiling their vampiric heritage; meanwhile, Kira and Connor lagged slightly in transforming.

Connor’s frame contorted savagely, bones snapping and reforming as his body rebuilt itself during the change. Though pain was evident, it pressed on relentlessly until he emerged as a full werewolf, promptly tilting his head back to unleash a skyward howl.

Kira Nightfang’s shift varied. Brown fur coated her form, crafting a demi-human look linked evidently to a cat-like bloodline.

Bloodline Academy supporters burst into rapture; by now, divisions among Northern Kingdom fans meant nothing—everyone had craved this spectacle.

Bang!

Alec unleashed a shot to ignite the clash, yet as the bullet approached Dragov, a wind barrier materialized ahead, repelling it and flinging it aside.

Alec managed only a strained, worried grin.

Understanding that piercing Dragov’s innate wind shield demanded far greater force than his prior shot, Alec’s eyes tightened.

“Attack them!” Dragov bellowed.

Carmilla lunged first, unhesitatingly charging ahead, her grudge against Endrick still burning strong.

Her figure blurred into crimson streaks, bypassing the central rune entirely as she rocketed toward Endrick’s rooftop perch, weaving smoothly between two buildings' walls to launch herself skyward accurately.

Watching her rush bare-handed, Endrick furrowed his brow.

“You think so little of me?” he questioned, extending his right hand; with a swift flick, thorny vines erupted from above, targeting her trajectory directly.

“Quite the opposite... I don't,” Carmilla shot back coolly, vaulting airborne to alter her course and dodge the jagged thorns.

Concurrently, Damien thrust his right arm out from elsewhere, propelling a huge chunk of his encircling blood pool forward as a high-pressure jet toward Carmilla.

Seconds shy of impact, she extended her left hand, reshaping the airborne blood swiftly into a spinning blood scythe that fitted seamlessly into her grasp.

Weapon secured, her velocity spiked anew; in a flash, she closed in on Endrick for the strike.

To onlookers, it was merely a scarlet streak, followed by Endrick grasping his throat—already neatly decapitated—his form starting to fade.

The arena plunged into shocked quiet, then roared to life.

Carmilla had transformed utterly, donned in blood-red spirit gear evoking a savage Amazon fighter—

A brief combat skirt, sturdy forearm protectors, boots reaching the knees, and an exquisite long scythe.

Her scarlet eyes blazed fiercely, locks whipping in the wind, exuding a mesmerizing, lethal aura.

And thus, the ultimate showdown ignited.

Through death.

Swift, ruthless, unyielding.

For the first time, viewers beheld the full Bloodline Academy squad in transformed glory, unleashing a horrifying leap in raw strength.