The wrong way to win

Suddenly, Trent grunted.

"Urgh…"

He clutched his head as an intense pressure surged through his skull, pounding like war drums echoing through his brain.

The tentacle wrapped around Bonny's limp body loosened, and the unconscious Elementalist dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, the dirt beneath his broken frame puffing outward in a cloud of dust.

Trent's knees buckled, and he slowly lowered himself to the ground, one palm pressed against the hard floor as he grit his teeth.

His breathing was shallow, and each breath felt like a chore.

The water tentacles around him slowly started to waver, drops of water falling from them as their size rapidly reduced.

Then… they started to dissolve.

One by one, they vanished, evaporating into faint streams of water and mist that scattered into the air like ghostly whispers.

And when they were gone, a crushing exhaustion slammed into him like a mountain dropped on his back.