IS 89
Chapter 436: My, my....youngsters these days
"My, my… youngsters these days…"
A shiver ran down Cedric's spine, sharp and immediate. That voice—he knew it all too well.
"Ah..."
Elara reacted just the same, her breath hitching, her body tensing instinctively.
Both of them snapped their gazes to the window.
There, perched casually on the sill, leaning against the wooden frame with a knowing smile, was a woman clad in deep indigo robes. A pointy wizard's hat sat atop her head, the brim casting a faint shadow over her piercing, unreadable eyes.
Elara's heartbeat quickened, her throat tightening.
"Master?"
The woman smirked, tilting her head slightly, her hat shifting just enough to reveal more of her face.
"Well, well," she mused, her gaze flickering between the two of them. "What a fiery little spat. I do hope I'm not interrupting something… personal?"
Cedric exhaled sharply, taking a step back instinctively. He had faced monsters, criminals, and beasts beyond reason, but this woman—she was something else entirely.
She had a presence, an undeniable weight to her being that made the air around her feel thinner, as if reality itself adjusted to accommodate her.
Elara swallowed, steadying herself. "Master," she repeated, her voice quieter this time, the sharpness from before entirely gone. "Why… are you here?"
Elara's breath hitched as she stared at the woman before her—the woman who had shaped her, broken her down, built her back up, and molded her into the mage she was today. Eveline Draycott. Archmage. Enigma. The one person Elara still couldn't fully understand, no matter how many years she spent under her tutelage.
The very air in the room seemed to shift around her presence, crackling with something unseen yet undeniable.
"My, my… youngsters these days," Eveline mused, her tone laced with amusement. She leaned casually against the window frame, her indigo robes swaying lightly in the ocean breeze. The shadow of her wide-brimmed hat cast an angular veil over her sharp, knowing eyes, but the smirk on her lips was unmistakable.
Elara took an unconscious step forward, her hands tightening at her sides. "Master?" she breathed.
Eveline's smirk widened. "Why the hesitation, little apprentice? Surely, you didn't forget about me already?"
Elara opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her mind was racing. Why was Eveline here? She had sent Elara on this test—this grueling, unforgiving test of survival. Wasn't she supposed to see it through? To learn whatever lesson her master had intended?
So why was she here now?
As if sensing the turmoil in her apprentice's mind, Eveline hummed and flicked her wrist dismissively. "Oh, don't look at me like that," she teased. "Can't I come check on my precious student? After all, I was the one who sent you here. Surely, I should see how you're holding up."
Elara stiffened, unable to argue with the logic but also unable to accept it. This wasn't just her master stopping by out of curiosity. There was something more, something that didn't sit right.
Cedric, who had remained unnervingly silent up until now, exhaled sharply. He was tense, but he knew better than to speak against someone like Eveline. Even he, with all his training, knew that the woman before them was beyond reason if she chose to be.
Elara finally found her voice. "You gave me this test," she said, her words more stable than she felt. "A test I haven't completed yet. Why are you here now?"
Eveline's gaze flickered toward her, sharp and searching. Then she sighed dramatically, adjusting her hat. "Fine, fine. If you want the short version—I came to pick you up."
Elara blinked. "…Pick me up?"
Her master's smile softened slightly, though the glint in her eyes remained unreadable. "Your test is over."
Elara's breath hitched. "But I—"
"You've already surpassed my expectations," Eveline continued, tilting her head slightly. "I knew you were talented. I knew you'd hold your own. But even I didn't expect this level of performance. For someone who had never stepped onto a battlefield before, you did… quite well."
Elara's fingers curled into fists. "You were watching."
Eveline chuckled. "Oh, my dear Elara. I always have my eyes everywhere."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Of course. Of course her master had been keeping tabs on her. It was just like her—watching from afar, letting things unfold, but only stepping in when she deemed necessary.
Then, as the realization set in, something in Elara hardened.
"No," she said firmly.
Eveline arched a brow. "No?"
Elara squared her shoulders, meeting her master's gaze directly. "You must have seen what happened to Luca."
Eveline's smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second. It was barely perceptible, but Elara caught it.
She did know.
"Then you should know why I can't leave yet," Elara continued. "I owe him. If you were watching, then you know that. I can't just—"
Eveline lifted a hand, cutting her off. "I understand," she said smoothly. "Truly, I do."
Elara stilled.
For the first time since this conversation started, Eveline's voice lacked
For the first time since this conversation started, Eveline's voice lacked its usual teasing edge. There was something weightier beneath her words, something final.
"But our time here is over."
Elara's heartbeat quickened. "I don't under—"
"You don't need to understand," Eveline said simply, her gaze steady, unwavering. "You just need to come with me."
Elara took a step back, shaking her head. "No. I can't just leave. Master, please—just give me time. If you know what happened, then you must have a way to—"
Eveline sighed, as if she had expected this reaction. Without a word, she flicked her wrist. The air crackled, a ripple of energy spreading outward as a soft hum of magic filled the room.
The space behind Eveline shimmered, and in an instant, a portal began to form—a swirling vortex of deep indigo, rimmed with intricate runes that pulsed like the heartbeat of the arcane itself.
Elara's breath hitched. "No! You can't just—"
"Enough, little apprentice," Eveline said, her voice still calm but undeniably firm. "I don't have time to argue. You're coming with me."
Elara felt her body stiffen, magic coiling around her limbs like invisible chains. She struggled, but it was futile. The air around Eveline was absolute. The authority of a true Archmage left no room for rebellion.
"Why?" Elara whispered, frustration and desperation bleeding into her voice. "Why are you doing this? You know what happened. Can't you find him?"
For the first time, Eveline hesitated.
Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze to the sky beyond the open window. Her eyes, usually filled with wry amusement, suddenly gleamed—not with power, but with something vast, something distant.
It was as if stars had settled in her irises.
"Not yet," she murmured. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that sent a chill down Elara's spine. "Not yet, yet."
Elara froze, her lips parting, but before she could demand an explanation, before she could even process what those words meant, the magic of the portal surged forward.
Just as the swirling energy began to engulf them, Eveline's gaze flicked to Cedric.
"Little knight," she mused, almost absently. "It appears that you need some more training."
Cedric tensed. A shiver ran down his spine, not from fear, but from the truth embedded in those words. He didn't argue. He didn't even move.
Because she was right.
The last thing Elara saw before the portal consumed her was the unreadable expression on Cedric's face, the glow of magic swallowing the room whole.
And then—nothing.
Just like that, Stormhaven disappeared.
Chapter 437: Rumble
The winds howled against the deck, sharp and bitter as the salt spray that lashed across the wooden planks. The vast, endless sea stretched before them, dark and unyielding, rolling beneath the overcast sky like a beast breathing in its sleep.
Duke Duke Thaddeus stood at the bow of the ship, his cloak billowing in the restless wind. His eyes, sharp and relentless, bore into the horizon, but there was nothing.
No wreckage.
No remains.
No trace of the vortex that had swallowed his daughter whole.
Nothing.
A full week.
It had been nearly a full week since she was taken.
A week since he had given the order.
Since he had summoned scholars, mages, navigators—anyone who had ever dared to study the abyss. Since he had demanded answers. Since he had dragged his fleet out into these accursed waters in search of a sign, a clue, anything.
But the sea gave nothing back.
The expedition had searched tirelessly. Sailors, mercenaries, knights—they had scoured the waters, dived into the depths, tested every known method of scrying and divination.
And yet, no matter how far they went—there was nothing.
It was as if the ocean had simply erased her.
Duke Duke Thaddeus' fingers curled into a fist, his nails biting into his palm as his jaw tightened. A deep, slow breath rattled in his chest, but it did nothing to temper the storm within him.
This wasn't natural.
It wasn't just that they couldn't find a body. It was that the sea itself had gone silent.
The waters here had been wrong ever since the battle. The currents were still strange, unnatural. The winds were colder, the pressure in the air different, thick with something unseen.
But there was no sign of a vortex.
No trail.
No clues.
Not even the Kraken had reappeared.
The beast that had obliterated his fleet, that had reduced proud warriors to trembling wrecks—it was gone.
Not lurking. Not hunting.
Simply gone.
It was infuriating.
Duke Thaddeus exhaled sharply through his nose, his shoulders rigid, his breath slow and deliberate—a thin, fragile barrier between control and something else.
Something darker.
The ocean had already taken from him once.
It had stolen his wife.
Now, it had stolen his daughter.
And yet, even as fury boiled beneath his skin, a more insidious emotion was creeping in.
Doubt.
Duke Thaddeus did not entertain doubt.
Doubt was for weaker men, for those who hesitated, who allowed their convictions to waver.
Yet—what if she truly was gone?
The thought twisted deep inside him, colder than the wind, heavier than the weight pressing against his chest.
Aeliana was sickly. Fragile. A girl who had spent more of her life within the confines of her chambers than in the world outside.
How long could she have survived out here?
Even if by some miracle she had survived the vortex—where would she be now?
The sea left no survivors.
It had been a week.
A week.
Wouldn't she have resurfaced by now? Wouldn't someone have found her?
Wouldn't there be some kind of sign?
His grip on the ship's railing tightened. His knuckles turned white beneath his gloves.
No.
He would not—could not—accept that.
Even if there were no traces, no wreckage, no evidence—she was still his daughter.
And he would not let her go.
Not yet.
A gust of wind tore through the deck, and a voice broke through the storm of his thoughts.
"Your Grace."
Duke Thaddeus did not turn.
Edran stood a few feet behind him, his armor dulled with salt and wear, his face grim.
"We've searched the entire perimeter again," he continued, his voice steady, though there was something careful in his tone. "The scouts found no new disturbances. No anomalies in the currents. Nothing in the waters below."
Nothing.
The same nothing he had been hearing for days now.
The same nothing that clawed at the edges of his mind, whispering, urging, telling him that this was pointless.
That she was gone.
Duke Thaddeus' fingers twitched against the wood.
Edran hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Your Grace… perhaps we should consider—"
A sharp crack split the air.
The railing beneath Duke Thaddeus' hand fractured.
The sudden sound….
The crack in the railing echoed through the deck, sharp and absolute.
The crew froze.
The knights stiffened.
Even the howling winds seemed to quiet, as if sensing the storm that was far greater than anything the sea could summon.
Duke Thaddeus did not move.
His mana seeped into the air, thick and oppressive, pressing against every soul aboard the ship like the weight of a tidal wave held in suspension. The very wood beneath his feet creaked under the force of it.
No one dared to move.
No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Except for one.
The steady sound of boots against the deck cut through the suffocating silence.
Through the haze of his fury, Duke Thaddeus recognized the footsteps immediately.
Reinhardt Valsteyn.
His Knight Commander.
The man who had led his forces for over a decade. The one who stood beside him in war, who had held the line when others fell. The one whose presence, unyielding and immovable, had been a pillar of strength in times of strife.
Reinhardt came to a stop a few paces away from the Duke, his broad frame casting a shadow against the salt-worn wood. He was clad in his full armor, dulled by the sea air, the deep crimson cloak of his station heavy on his shoulders.
Behind him, Edran followed, lingering just at his back—watchful, hesitant.
Reinhardt alone stepped forward.
And when he spoke, his voice was steady.
"Your Grace."
Duke Thaddeus did not respond.
Reinhardt didn't waver.
"We've searched again." His tone was firm, methodical—deliberate in its calm. "The fleet has covered every route, every depth we can reach. The scouts have checked the currents, the tides, the depths where the vortex formed."
A pause.
And then—
"We have found nothing."
The words felt heavier than the waves crashing against the ship's hull.
Duke Thaddeus inhaled slowly, his breath deep, slow, measured—forced into control.
Another nothing.
Just like every other report.
Just like every other time they had failed.
The railing beneath his fingers splintered further, the wood cracking under the sheer force of his grip.
His head tilted slightly, just enough to glance at Reinhardt from the corner of his eye. His gaze was like steel, like the blade of a sword drawn at the throat of an enemy.
Reinhardt did not flinch.
His own expression remained unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes saw through him.
And that alone was enough to make something inside the Duke coil with irritation.
The air around them grew heavier.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Because no one could.
Except him.
Reinhardt took one more step forward, his armored boots scraping against the deck.
"We will keep searching," he said, his tone unwavering. "As long as you give the order, we will not stop."
The words were firm. Unshaken.
But then—
"…But how long will you do this, Your Grace?"
The deck creaked beneath Duke Thaddeus' stance.
The wind howled.
And Reinhardt held his ground.
Duke Thaddeus slowly turned his head, fully facing him now, his eyes cold as the abyss that had swallowed Aeliana.
There was no hesitation in the Knight Commander's gaze.
No fear.
No submission.
And that…
That infuriated him.
A flash of anger rippled through him, his mana surging for a brief, lethal second. The very air seemed to warp around him, distorting beneath the sheer force of his presence.
The knights stationed along the deck tensed. A few of the sailors stepped back.
Even Edran looked uneasy, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his blade.
But Reinhardt didn't move.
Didn't even blink.
Because he had stood before this wrath before.
And he knew that someone had to.
Duke Thaddeus' voice, when he finally spoke, was deathly quiet.
"Watch your tongue, Reinhardt."
The weight behind his words was lethal.
But Reinhardt's face remained as still as stone.
"I will not," the Knight Commander said, his voice just as firm.
Duke Thaddeus' fingers twitched.
A breath of raw fury shuddered through him, his muscles taut with restraint.
Reinhardt's jaw clenched—but still, he did not move.
"You have led us for years, Your Grace," he said. "I have followed your orders without hesitation. I have fought beside you. I have seen the weight you carry."
His fists curled at his sides.
"But I will not stand here and watch you drown in it."
A ripple of tension coiled through the air.
Duke Thaddeus' expression darkened.
"Are you questioning me, Reinhardt?"
The words were not a threat.
They were a warning.
And still, Reinhardt did not back down.
"I am reminding you, Your Grace." His voice was steady. "That you are still needed."
The silence that followed was razor-sharp.
Duke Thaddeus' gaze bore into him, his body seething with unspent fury, his wrath unchecked.
And yet—beneath the surface, beneath the raging fire inside him—
There was something else.
A crack.
A flicker of something deeper, something more painful than rage.
Loss.
But just then something happened.
RUMBLE!
The sky rumbled.
Chapter 438: Void
"Void."
The word slipped from my lips, barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of everything I had been missing.
The battlefield, the searing heat of the Kraken's cosmic beam, the molten scars left in its wake—none of it mattered for that single moment.
Because now, I understood.
My grip tightened around my estoc as the realization settled into my bones, threading itself through my thoughts with unshakable clarity.
[Void Starfall Blade.]
The technique my master had taught me. The technique I had spent years perfecting. The foundation of my swordsmanship.
And yet, I had never questioned it.
"Master," I had once asked, turning to Gerald in the middle of training, sweat dripping down my brow. "Why did you give the technique that name?"
It had been an idle question at the time. A curiosity, nothing more.
Gerald's response, however, had been strange.
"I felt like it," he had said simply, his tone casual, as if the answer was obvious.
I had frowned. "You felt like it?"
"Yes," Gerald had nodded, his gaze distant. "Even though I don't know why, the moment I formed my core, and understood how to cultivate, a sword technique took shape in my mind. And the name of the technique followed just like that."
Those were his words.
One of the strongest in the world.
Perhaps the greatest genius this world had ever seen.
Starscourge Gerald.
A man who had created his own cultivation, who had forged his own path without guidance, without lineage, without the privilege of noble blood. A man who had rewritten the very principles of power itself.
And yet, even he had said it simply came to him.
'Then that means…'
My eyes flickered back to the Kraken.
To the starlight energy pulsing through its monstrous form. To the way it resonated with me, with my Devourer of Stars core.
To the way it regenerated, endlessly consuming energy, refusing to die.
I exhaled slowly.
"I see now…"
The connection that had eluded me. The missing piece.
Gerald never taught me the higher-ranked techniques of the [Void Starfall Blade]. Whether it was because he believed my body couldn't handle it, or because he himself didn't know, I had never been certain.
But now—
"I understand why you gave it that name, Master."
I rolled my wrist, my estoc humming with energy, but this time, I didn't force Starlight Energy into it.
This time, I let go.
Because [Void Starfall Blade] wasn't just a technique.
It was a principle.
I had been relying on Starlight.
"But does the name of my cultivation technique say anything about Starlight?"
The thought struck me like a blade to the gut.
I had always assumed—no, I had always focused on the Starlight aspect of my abilities. I had drawn my strength from it, molded my techniques around it, refined it into something lethal, something unstoppable.
But…
[Devourer of Stars.]
That was my core.
That was my foundation.
And nowhere in that name did it say anything about Starlight.
I inhaled sharply, my gaze locking onto the monstrous form of the Kraken once more. The foreign energy coursing through it flickered in my vision, pulsing between its grotesque limbs, surging along its regenerating flesh.
Not just Starlight.
Not just Void.
But a mixture of both.
My mind reeled back, reaching for something—a memory.
The vision.
I had seen it countless times before.
That vast, endless expanse.
The cosmos stretching infinitely, stars burning with celestial brilliance.
And among them—
That one star.
The black star.
The one that had called to me. The one that had chosen me. The one that had been the source of my very core.
What had that meant?
Was [Devourer of Stars] something as simple as Starlight?
Or—
"Was it the fusion of Starlight and Void?"
Just like the name of my sword technique.
Just like the power the Kraken was wielding right now.
I exhaled, my lips curling into something close to a laugh.
"Haha… How funny is that?"
I had been fighting the answer this entire time. Searching for something that had been right in front of me from the very beginning.
I could sense it now.
The breakthrough was near.
My core trembled, energy surging in my veins like a wildfire barely contained.
The Kraken shrieked, its abyssal cry reverberating through the cavern, its wounds sealing faster, its body adapting.
It was waiting for me.
It was daring me to step forward.
To accept what I had been denying.
To become what I was meant to be.
I grinned, rolling my shoulders, the energy in my core shifting—changing—awakening.
"Alright then," I murmured, stepping forward.
BOOM!
I shot forward, my body blurring into motion.
Pain no longer mattered. The gashes along my ribs, the taste of iron in my mouth, the steady drip of blood down my fingers—none of it registered anymore. The only thing that existed was the thrill.
The rush of battle.
The exhilaration of stepping into the unknown.
SWOOSH!
The Kraken's limbs came down like falling mountains. A blur of grotesque flesh, thick and unyielding, carving through the battlefield with monstrous force.
I twisted, evading with a step so light it barely disturbed the broken stone beneath me.
SLASH.
My estoc carved through the air, its edge wreathed in a pulse of void-starlight. The attack tore through one of the beast's tendrils, severing it in a single fluid motion.
Schlrkkk—
Regeneration.
Instant.
A snarl of abyssal energy crackled through the Kraken's form as it stitched itself back together.
I laughed.
Not out of mockery. Not out of frustration.
But because this—this—was fun.
I had fought countless battles. Stood on the precipice of life and death more times than I could count. But this—fighting on the edge, pushing past my limits, discovering something new—this was what I lived for.
"Come on!" I grinned, my breath ragged but my energy surging. "Is that all you've got?"
The Kraken shrieked, its abyssal form shifting, twisting.
A barrage of obsidian spikes erupted from its body, raining down upon me in a storm of lethal precision.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
I wove through them, my estoc dancing, flicking the projectiles aside mid-motion. My body moved on instinct—no, beyond instinct. It felt as if I had already seen these attacks a hundred times over, as if my movements were merely a natural response to what I already knew was coming.
The rhythm of battle was intoxicating.
The pain in my body no longer felt like a burden.
It was fuel.
And then—
Something within me shifted.
Not just my movements. Not just my sword.
My core.
I could feel it—the trembling, the pull, the very structure of my energy changing as I continued to fight.
Because this wasn't just about reaching the next step.
This was about breaking through.
'Previously, when I reached the Fourth Star…'
I had connected the three stars that I had formed in each breakthrough.
First star. Second star. Third star.
Each step had created a new star, forming them one by one as I advanced.
But this time—
This time, that wasn't what I needed.
I could feel it in my very core.
The next step wasn't about forming another star.
It wasn't about strengthening the bonds by creating a new connection.
It was about something more.
"Bending the space, like a void."
The realization struck me mid-motion, my estoc gleaming as I slashed through another tentacle, my body twisting past the monstrous retaliation.
It was about the pull.
Not outward.
Not forward.
Inward.
The three stars that I had formed—each a stepping stone to my growth—were already connected by the Void between them.
And now, the next step…
Was to pull them together.
Not into a fourth star.
But into a center.
Like the heart of a galaxy.
Like the singularity that everything revolved around.
The Void in my core trembled.
It called.
It demanded.
I grinned.
"Ah… so that's it."
I finally understood.
And then—
Everything collapsed.
The world around me blurred—no, it folded.
The three stars within my core, once scattered, were dragged inward.
Not into destruction.
Not into chaos.
But into balance.
Into the Void.
BOOOOOOOOM!
The battlefield erupted in a wave of abyssal force as my breakthrough ignited, my energy surging, my entire being shifting.
And for the first time—
I was stepping into something entirely new.
Chapter 439: Void (2)
Everything shifted.
The battlefield, the shrieking of the Kraken, the molten scars left in the wake of its cosmic destruction—it all felt distant. As if I had taken a step beyond the physical world.
Because something inside me had changed.
I could feel it.
The Void.
The stars in my core were no longer separate, no longer scattered fragments of power held together by tenuous connections. They had been pulled inward, drawn into something new—something denser, heavier, more absolute.
Not another star.
Not a chain of lights connected by thin threads of energy.
But a center.
A singularity.
A gravity unlike anything I had ever felt before.
I inhaled.
And when I did, the very air around me responded.
Energy coiled around my form, thick and weightless at the same time. My senses expanded, sharpened, stretched out into something wider, something deeper.
And then—
I felt it.
A pull.
A presence.
My sword.
It was calling to me.
My grip tightened instinctively, my fingers pressing against the hilt of my estoc. The void-light that had always flickered along its edge was no longer just a simple energy coating the blade—it was alive.
It was resonating.
I exhaled slowly, lifting my weapon, my vision locking onto the Kraken's towering form as it writhed in the distance.
'Ah…'
I finally understood.
This blade, this technique—this power.
It was never just about Starlight.
It was never just about cutting through my enemies.
It was about devouring.
About consuming, bending, collapsing everything into itself.
Just like my core.
Just like the Void.
A slow smirk spread across my lips.
"So this is what you were trying to show me," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, my estoc humming in response, the energy crackling along its length in a way that felt different.
Stronger.
Darker.
Hungrier.
I rolled my wrist, the blade gleaming as I took a single step forward.
"Alright then."
My pulse steadied.
My breath leveled.
The resonance between my core and my sword deepened.
"Let's test it out."
SHRRRRRRIIIIIEEEEEKKKKKKK!
The Kraken's monstrous wail tore through the battlefield, the very air distorting under the weight of its abyssal cry. The cavern trembled, debris crumbling from above as the force of its rage reverberated through the stone.
It knew.
It could feel it—the shift.
The change in me.
And it was afraid.
My smirk widened. I lifted my blade, the energy in my core surging in response to my will.
"Devourer of Stars. Manifest."
WHOOOOOOOM!
A pulse erupted from my estoc, sending ripples of pure blackened starlight surging outward. It coiled and twisted through the air, tendrils of void-energy shifting like something alive, as if the very laws of this world struggled to define what it had become.
The energy wasn't just flickering anymore.
It was solidifying.
It was becoming.
The Kraken shrieked again, its form distorting, writhing—reacting.
And then—
BOOOOOOOOM!
A beam of pure abyssal energy ripped through the cavern, spiraling toward me with devastating force.
It wasn't just raw destruction.
It was corruption.
Something twisted, something foreign, something wrong surged within the attack, the same alien presence I had sensed earlier—the same presence buried deep inside this monster.
I inhaled sharply, shifting my stance.
This time, I wouldn't dodge.
I raised my estoc, the void-starlight along its length pulsing in time with my core.
CLANG!
The beam collided.
A deafening shockwave exploded outward as I braced against the impact, my blade locking against the torrent of abyssal energy. The force behind it was immense, crashing against me like a tidal wave, pushing me back inch by inch as I dug my heels into the shattered ground.
I gritted my teeth, exhaling through clenched jaws.
Tsk.
I could feel it.
The technique wasn't complete yet.
The starlight was there. The void was there. But the balance—the true fusion—was still just out of reach.
I was deflecting the beam.
But I wasn't devouring it.
Not yet.
The Kraken shrieked, pressing harder, its abyssal power raging against me.
I clicked my tongue, my fingers tightening around my hilt.
'So it's like this, huh?'
Fine.
I wasn't quite there yet.
BOOOOM!
The force of the Kraken's beam didn't stop.
It pressed.
It crushed.
It consumed.
I gritted my teeth, pushing back against it with everything I had, my estoc locked in place as void-starlight crackled along its edge. The energy around me was shifting—changing—but it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
I wasn't there yet.
SHRRRRRRIIIIIEEEEEKKKKKKK!
The Kraken shrieked, sensing my struggle, its grotesque form twisting as its abyssal energy pushed harder.
BOOOM!
Another tentacle lashed out.
SWOOSH!
I barely twisted my body in time, the monstrous limb slicing past me with enough force to send a shockwave through the cavern. The air burned from the sheer pressure, but before I could reset my stance—
BOOM!
Another.
Then another.
I moved—too slow.
CRACK!
Pain exploded through my ribs as a tentacle slammed into my side, hurling me across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
CRASH!
I hit the stone with a sickening thud, my body bouncing once, twice, before I crashed into a jagged wall, ribs shattering on impact.
GHHHKK—!
Blood filled my mouth instantly, thick and suffocating, the sharp agony of bone piercing lung screaming through my nerves.
But I wasn't given time to recover.
BOOOOM!
Another strike—this time from above.
I forced my body to move, twisting midair just as the monstrous limb obliterated the space I had been in. The sheer force of it sent tremors through the entire cavern, massive chunks of debris falling from the ceiling.
Tsk.
Even with the concept in my grasp, I couldn't master it in an instant.
I needed time.
Time the Kraken had no intention of giving me.
SWOOSH!
Another attack—too fast.
I raised my estoc—too slow.
CRACK!
A direct hit.
Pain ripped through my skull as something slammed into my face, my vision whiting out for a fraction of a second. My head snapped back violently, my entire body whipping through the air before slamming into the cavern floor.
My right eye—
I couldn't see out of it.
Blood streamed down my face, warm and sticky, soaking into my collar as I forced myself up with a trembling arm.
'Tch… How annoying.'
I swayed. My vision blurred, my breath wheezing through punctured lungs. My right side refused to move properly, the weight of my injuries dragging me down.
And yet—
I laughed.
"Ha… Haha… Ah…"
I wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my wrist, exhaling through my nose as I staggered back to my feet.
The Kraken wasn't stopping.
It pressed forward, its abyssal presence bearing down on me, its grotesque form shuddering, adapting, learning.
I met its abyssal gaze.
Even now, I could feel it—the pull.
The Void wasn't rejecting me.
It was waiting.
I just had to take that final step.
I rolled my shoulders, ignoring the fractured bones shifting beneath my skin, the sharp sting of open wounds, the way my breath rattled in my chest.
Because I wasn't done yet.
"I am reaching my limit."
That was right.
Probably, if this went on, I would be dying here.
"Different."
I needed something different.
"AAAAAH!"
Yet just then a scream echoed in my head.
My body moved before my thoughts caught up, my gaze snapping to the side—
And there she was.
Aeliana.
Collapsing. Convulsing.
Her body twisted unnaturally, her back arching against the stone, fingers clawing into the ground as if she were trying to anchor herself against something unseen.
Blood streamed from her eyes, from her lips, from the cracks forming along her cursed veins. The marks pulsing across her body glowed with an unnatural, sickly radiance—not just light, but distortion.
It was tearing at her.
Trying to consume her.
But—
She was still fighting.
Even as her body was writhing, even as her own existence trembled on the edge of collapse, even as the pain she was enduring went far beyond anything I had ever experienced.
She didn't stop.
She refused to break.
My breath came out slow, steady, my pain momentarily forgotten as I took in the sight before me.
And then, I grinned.
"Faced with such a sight, how can I stop?"
The words left me effortlessly, my amusement bubbling up despite everything. Despite my fractured ribs, my bleeding eye, my shredded lungs.
Because seeing her—seeing her like this—
It reminded me of something simple.
Strength wasn't just power.
It was the refusal to fall.
I wiped the blood from my lips, rolling my shoulders despite the searing pain that shot through my body.
"Let's move forward."
Because when it came to a battle of egos—
I wasn't going to lose.