46. Difference in Abilities

Chapter 46: Difference in Abilities

Neralia didn't waste a second. Her staff glowed with an intensity that made the air around her hum, and the magic circle that formed above her head was massive, easily the size of a small house. The runes inside it were so intricate they looked like a tangled web of light, pulsing with mana. She swung her staff downward, and the circle flared.

"Water Magic: Boulder Barrage!" she shouted, her voice strained but determined.

The spell erupted from the circle, and suddenly, the air was filled with water balls the size of boulders, hurtling toward Menato with terrifying speed. Each one was dense, shimmering with mana, and looked like it could crush a building on impact. The ground shook as they crashed into the ruins, sending debris flying in every direction.

But Menato? He didn't even flinch.

To me, it looked like he was teleporting. One second, he was standing there, smirking. The next, he was gone, reappearing a few feet away as a water boulder smashed into the ground where he'd just been. Then he was gone again, dodging another, and another, and another. His movements were so fast, so fluid, that it was like watching a ghost. No, not a ghost—a predator. A predator toying with its prey.

"Too slow," he taunted, his voice smooth and mocking. He dodged another boulder, his movements effortless, like he was dancing through the chaos. "Is this really the best you've got? I thought you were supposed to be a prodigy."

Neralia's face twisted in frustration, but she didn't stop. She swung her staff again, and another barrage of water boulders shot toward him. Menato just laughed, dodging them with ease, his movements so fast they were almost a blur.

Then, he took the initiative.

One second, he was dodging. The next, he was right in front of her, his fist slamming into her stomach with a sickening *thud*. The force of the blow sent her flying backward, her staff slipping from her grasp as she crashed into a pile of rubble. She coughed, blood spilling from her lips, but Menato didn't give her a chance to recover.

He was on her in an instant, his foot slamming into her side with enough force to crack the stone beneath her. She cried out, her body crumpling under the impact, but Menato wasn't done. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet, and punched her again, this time in the face. Blood sprayed from her mouth, and she stumbled backward, barely able to stay upright.

"You're losing your mind, Neralia," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "All that power, and you can't even land a single hit. Pathetic."

She swung at him, her fist glowing with mana, but he caught it effortlessly, his grip like iron. He twisted her arm, and I heard the sickening *crack* of bone before she cried out in pain. He kicked her again, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"You're not even a challenge," he said, his voice cold and cruel. "I expected more from someone who drank the entire vial. What a waste."

Neralia coughed, blood dripping from her lips, but she wasn't done yet. She pushed herself to her feet, her body trembling with effort, and raised her hands. The magic circle that formed this time was unlike anything I'd ever seen. It was massive, easily twice the size of the last one, and the runes inside it were so complex they looked like they were alive, pulsing and shifting with a life of their own.

"Water Magic: Water Dragon!" she shouted, her voice hoarse but filled with determination.

The circle flared, and a massive water dragon erupted from it, its body shimmering with mana, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. It roared, the sound echoing through the ruins, and lunged at Menato with terrifying speed.

But Menato just smirked.

He dodged the dragon's attacks with ease, his movements so fast they were almost a blur. The dragon lunged at him, its massive jaws snapping shut, but Menato was already gone, reappearing a few feet away. He led the dragon on a chase, dodging its attacks effortlessly, until finally, he led it right back toward Neralia.

She realized what was happening too late.

The dragon lunged at her, its massive jaws snapping shut, and she barely had time to release the spell before it hit her. The dragon dissolved into a massive wave of water that crashed over her, washing her away in a torrent of mana and debris.

When the water receded, Neralia was lying on the ground, drenched and coughing violently. Blood spilled from her lips, and her body trembled with each cough. The coughing got worse, so bad it sounded like she was going to cough up her lungs—or worse, her colon. Her body convulsed, and black smoke began to pour from her mouth, swirling around her like a dark aura.

She looked sickly, her skin pale and her eyes sunken, as the black smoke surrounded her. It was like the elixir was eating her from the inside out, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Finally, her body went limp, and she collapsed into unconsciousness, the black smoke still swirling around her.

I didn't think. I just moved.

Using the last of my strength, I stumbled over to her, my body screaming in protest with every step. I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands trembling as I checked for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. She was alive. Barely.

The black smoke swirled around us, thick and suffocating, but I didn't care. I just held her, my mind racing with thoughts of what the hell we were going to do next.

Menato stood a few feet away, watching us with that same damn smirk on his face.

"Pathetic," he said, his voice cold and cruel. "And here I thought you two might actually be a challenge."

I clenched my fists, my body trembling with rage and exhaustion, but there was nothing I could do. Not yet.

But I wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

***

Menato's smirk widened as he turned his attention to Kaizen, who was kneeling beside Neralia, his body trembling with exhaustion and rage. Kaizen looked up, his eyes burning with defiance, but he was in no condition to fight. Menato didn't waste time.

In a blur of motion, Menato closed the distance between them. Kaizen barely had time to raise his arms in a feeble attempt to block before Menato's fist connected with his jaw. The impact was brutal, sending Kaizen sprawling to the ground. His vision blurred, and he felt the world spin as he hit the stone floor. He tried to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. His limbs felt like lead, and his head throbbed with a dull, aching pain.

Menato stood over him, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "You're even weaker than I thought," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "And here I was hoping for a challenge."

Kaizen tried to speak, to spit some defiant retort, but the words caught in his throat. His vision darkened, and the last thing he saw before unconsciousness claimed him was Menato's cold, mocking smile.

Menato stood amidst the ruins, the air thick with the scent of blood and the lingering remnants of mana. The battlefield was a mess—crumbled stone, shattered walls, and the unconscious bodies of Kaizen, Neralia, and Lashley. He glanced down at them, his expression one of mild irritation. The fight had been entertaining, but it hadn't given him what he wanted.

He knelt beside Kaizen first, his clawed fingers rifling through the young man's leather armor. He checked every pocket, every hidden compartment, but found nothing. Frustration began to creep into his features as he moved on to Neralia. Her body was surrounded by a faint, swirling black smoke that seemed to pulse with a dark energy. Menato ignored it, his focus solely on finding the artifact. He searched her robes, her belt, even the folds of her sleeves, but still, nothing.

Finally, he turned to Lashley, who was sprawled on the ground, his face swollen and bloodied. Menato's movements were methodical, almost clinical, as he searched the man's body. He checked his coat, his boots, even the small pouch at his side, but the artifact was nowhere to be found.

Menato stood, his frustration boiling over. His golden eyes narrowed, and his sharp teeth clenched in anger. "Where is it?" he muttered under his breath, his voice low and dangerous. He turned, his gaze sweeping the ruins as if the artifact might suddenly reveal itself.

But there was nothing. Just the broken remains of the fortress and the unconscious bodies of his enemies.

With a growl of frustration, Menato slammed his fist into the nearest wall. The impact was deafening, the force of his blow shattering the meter-thick stone as if it were made of glass. Dust and debris rained down around him, but he didn't flinch. His fist remained embedded in the wall, his claws digging into the stone as he let out a low, guttural groan.

"The boss will not be happy about this," he muttered, his voice filled with irritation. He pulled his fist free, the stone crumbling around it, and turned to survey the ruins one last time. His golden eyes flicked to the unconscious forms of Kaizen, Neralia, and Lashley, but he didn't spare them another thought. They were no longer a threat, and he had no Interest in finishing them off. His mission had been clear: retrieve the artifact. And he had failed.

With a final, frustrated sigh, Menato turned and vanished into the shadows, his form dissolving into the air as if he had never been there at all. The ruins fell silent, the only sound the faint, labored breathing of the three unconscious figures lying amidst the rubble.

The artifact was still hidden, and Menato's failure would not go unnoticed. But for now, the battlefield was still, the echoes of the fight fading into the cold, oppressive silence of the ruins.