The hush broke.
“By the way,” Noll said, holding out his gloved left hand. A shimmering pink goo dripped from his palm, coalescing and solidifying into a wickedly pointed spear. “I hope you didn’t forget about our game…”
He pointed. The spear shot forward, a pink blur moving so fast she barely had time to throw herself aside. A second strike was already coming; a downward thrust aimed directly at her face. She flinched, bracing for impact—
It stopped.
The tip hovered, a single, deadly point of light less than an inch from her pupil.
“And you’re dead.” Noll was grinning—terrible, triumphant, humorless. The spear disappeared. “I have a question, Yumaki. Mind answering?”
She could only stare, the ghost of the spear's tip still cold against her skin.
He didn't wait. “Was it worth it?” he asked, his voice returning to that flat, analytical tone. “Learning to fight at the Academy?”
The question was disorienting. How did he know I studied at the Academy?
“Because they are sloppy,” he continued, as if she’d spoken. “Your movements, I mean.”
Did I say that out loud?
“No, you didn’t.”
Her blood ran cold. Can he read my mind?
“No, I can’t read minds.”
A dizzying wave of relief washed over her. Her hand flew to her hat. Oh, thank the Goddess he can’t.
“Yes,” Noll said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You are that predictable.”
The pattern broke. The relief curdled into a new kind of horror. He hadn't heard her last thought. He had simply moved on to his final, damning judgment.
“I didn’t think that,” she said, the words a desperate, factually true statement—her only foothold.
Noll gave a dismissive shrug. "Well, then you’re not that predictable." He paused, letting her savor the hollow victory for a second. "But you’re stupid."
"Say what now?" she breathed, the fury in her voice brittle and thin.
He began to speak, his voice shifting to that of a scholar delivering a damning dissertation. “The Yumaki family is famous for its ability to connect with the wild and draw on its strengths,” Noll said, ticking off points with a cold, academic precision.
No. Don't. The thought was a raw plea inside her own head.
“Yet you chose not to learn their ways, instead learning from some comfortable old men who’ve never seen a real war."
The memory of her masters rose—their kind faces. But his words had poisoned it. For the first time, she saw them not as mentors, but as an escape. An excuse.
"I’d go as far as to say you’d have a better chance against me if you’d learned from your own family. But you didn’t." His eyes scanned her, a quick, contemptuous appraisal. "And now your stance is awful. You leak so much magic power with every movement; it would be better if you just donated it."
Her muscles tensed. She had always felt powerful. Now, she just felt… wasteful. A leaky bucket pretending to be a storm.
"Not to mention, you probably haven’t even learned the core technique of your own clan yet. Where is your soulmate spirit, Mizuki Yumaki? Or did you trade it for a Nexus-Blade, thinking it will make you stronger? At least your brother was smart enough to put his soulmate spirit inside a Nexus-Blade, to make it stronger—even though the process is very dangerous. But you? You didn’t even want to try."
A hot, searing shame, more painful than any wound, flooded her chest. He sees everything. He saw the core of her failure; the secret inadequacy she had built her entire life around hiding.
"Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been sent here—as a ‘final assignment’.” He leaned in, the terrible grin returning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Say, am I right?”
There was no defense left. He hadn't just beaten her. He had taken the story she told herself, the very architecture of her pride, and proven it was a lie. There was nothing left to hide behind. The shield was gone. The anger was gone. There was only the hollow, echoing truth.
The last of her strength gave out. Not her muscles, but her will. Her knees hit the stone floor with a dull thud. She looked up at him, her eyes vacant, the fire of those golden eyes extinguished.
"Yes," she whispered, the word a ragged exhalation of surrender. "You’ve won, after all."
Noll tilted his head, his terrible grin fading into a look of genuine confusion. He looked at her kneeling form as if she were a piece of lab equipment that had suddenly started behaving illogically.
"Huh?"
The disorientation lasted only a moment before a flicker of weary understanding crossed his face. He sighed, a sound of pure intellectual exhaustion, and rubbed his temples.
"Ah… right. Your people have that stupid rule…"
The condescension was no longer sharp; it was just tired. Profoundly tired of explaining the obvious to the willfully ignorant.
“Mizuki, I am going to say this once.” His voice was flat, final. “There are no gods in this world, especially no gods who determine the result of a battle based on who is more ‘right’. Fights are won through strategy, patience, skill, and power. Precisely in that order.”
He looked at her, really looked at her for what she was: a broken product of a flawed system.
“X’s injury is the result of your impatience—of your fear and inability to trust.”
The words were not an accusation. They were a diagnosis. A simple, clinical statement of fact. And in the hollowed-out ruin of her pride, she found she had no strength left to deny them.
It was, after all, the truth.
Noll limped past her, his voice a final, dismissive flick. “The backpack has wood inside. Make a fire. Probably the only thing you're good for anyway.”
Mizuki’s eyes were hollow as she stared at the floor. The backpack… X’s backpack. She hadn't even realized it was there.
Her hands moved on their own, her mind a cavern. She gathered the wood, arranging it into a primitive pile. The fire was a simple thing, and for the first time, she felt like she was too. She could do this, at least.
She sat there, hugging her knees, the small fire casting flickering shadows. She stared into the flames, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if the answers to questions she didn't know how to ask were dancing in the heat.
Her mind drifted, a desperate search for a single good memory to cling to, something to prove he was wrong. But the archives of her past offered only judgment, each memory another piece of evidence for his case.
The voices of her old classmates swirled in the smoke, calling her unstable, dangerous, a bull who charges without caring who is friend or foe.
She saw her brother's face, the polite, firm refusal when she asked to join him on the battlefield against the Krinden Alliance. He probably thought I would be a nuisance too.
A single, hot tear escaped, then another. A final, quiet surrender she couldn't control. She pulled her hat down to hide her face, clinging to the last, tattered remnant of her pride.
A soft thud on the stone in front of her. Noll had placed a neatly packaged box by the fire, a sweet, warm aroma drifting up from it.
“You need to rest,” he said, his voice flat but without its earlier cruelty. “This will help.”
He turned and limped back to X, opening a similar box and helping his leader take a bite. And Mizuki could only watch—a hollowed-out thing by a small, lonely fire, more lost and broken than she had ever been in her entire life.
***
X grunted, the word muffled by the mouthful Noll coaxed between his teeth. Simple chicken and rice, but indecently good—the salt and fat from the meat bled into the warm grains, steam carrying a clean, savory heat that cut through the cave’s cold. The sharp, biting pain from the ice spear had faded to a dull, grinding ache. He watched the boy, who was pointedly staring at the new patch on his shoulder, avoiding the broken girl by the fire. Noll looked exhausted, strung taut as a bowstring.
“You were too harsh on her,” X said, a gentle reprimand.
Noll's shoulders slumped a fraction—a confession of guilt more honest than words.
“I know,” he answered, his voice a husk. “I am sorry.”
“To her,” X said simply. “Not me.”
Noll didn't look at Mizuki. He stared at the patch on X’s shoulder. “I don’t like telling,” he rasped, the words sounding like they were pulled from his throat. “I like doing.”
A weary, knowing smirk touched X’s lips. “Is that why you gave her your lunchbox?” He eyed Noll, a hint of concern in his gaze. “What about you? You’re always hungry.”
“It’s fine,” Noll said, shaking his head. “I am not that important.”
As if on cue, a loud, gurgling howl erupted from Noll’s midsection—a traitorous, biological protest. X ignored it; the sound was its own answer.
“Is this also why you’re doing nothing about your bleeding leg?” He pointed at the boy’s knee, where he'd fallen rushing to his side. “That fall must have fractured a bone, considering how frail you are.”
“It is nothing.” Noll didn’t look down. He just looked at X, and X knew what that look meant. He didn't like it.
He looked from the boy who believed he was worthless to the girl who believed her worth was everything—two sides of the same broken coin. He was so tired.
“That philosophy of yours, Noll,” X said, his voice low and heavy, “is just as stupid and just as dangerous as hers.”
He watched Mizuki for a moment, her shoulders shaking with each sob as she ate. A soft, awkward chuckle escaped him, a fragile attempt to mend the shattered air.
“I think she likes your cooking,” he said, letting out a small, awkward laugh. “Still… ice and lightning?”
“She was probably born gifted…” Noll said, using a wooden stick to hold his leg straight. “…explains the attitude.” He grunted, securing the splint.
“Is that even possible, though? Wielding two elements without a clan technique?”
“Two very unstable elements she has no control over.” Noll sat back, relaxed.
“Yet…” X grinned. “You can teach her,” he whispered.
“Only if she asks…” Noll looked down. “You can’t force help on someone who is too proud to take it. It doesn’t stick. Just makes them hate you.”
Mizuki’s head slumped forward, a soft snore escaping her lips. The empty food box slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the stone. Both men looked at her.
X’s gaze shifted to Noll, his expression unreadable in the firelight. “She fell asleep a bit too fast, don’t you think?”
Noll didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. He just stared into the fire. “I forgot about the sleeping drug.” A dry, brittle chuckle, devoid of humor. “…So much for the manners of a noble.”
“Ask next time,” X said, his voice gone flat.
“…If next time allows asking,” Noll murmured. “That was an accident.” He turned to X. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
He slid closer to the fire and began worrying the embers with a twig, movements repetitive and mechanical.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
X trusted him. He let the heavy exhaustion finally take him.
When his eyes opened again, the fire had burned down to glowing coals. Noll was sitting in the same spot, unnervingly motionless. His eyes were hollow, fixed on something in the darkness beyond the cave wall, a thousand-yard stare into a place only he could see.
“Noll?” X called out, his voice raspy.
The boy sprang back as if struck, a hand flying up to rub his eyes. In the dim light, X could see dark, bruised-looking bags under them.
“Oh, you’re finally awake,” Noll managed, his voice weak and thin. He gestured with his thumb toward Mizuki. “It’s only been thirty minutes. She should be up soon.”
“You sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” X asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“No, thanks. I’ll be okay.” Noll’s gaze drifted toward the deeper darkness. His movements seemed surprisingly normal, considering his injury. Did he take the other potion? No. He wouldn’t; there’s only one left. Did he use something else?
“Besides,” Noll added, “someone is still down there.”
The thought struck X with a jolt of guilt. Under all the drama, he had almost forgotten their mission. Well, he’s okay, and that’s the most important.
“You are right. We need to go,” X said, standing up.
***
Mizuki’s eyes snapped open. The fire had burned down to glowing coals. She pushed herself up in a single, fluid motion, feeling… refreshed. Unnaturally so.
“That was good, I feel so refreshed!” she said, beaming. The energy felt brittle, fake, a desperate attempt to plaster over the gaping hole of her earlier humiliation.
Noll and X exchanged a silent, loaded glance. A shared secret.
“Then I guess we can go,” X said, pushing himself to his feet. “Noll, any news?”
Noll opened his notebook; his whole bearing sharpened, his voice suddenly crisp, all traces of exhaustion gone. “Yes, a lot. Firstly, we are near the bottom. Our target is nearby. Second—and more importantly…” He paused. “I examined the beasts. The crystals are from the deposit below, and they were implanted. Artificially. Which means…”
"Someone is committing a heresy," Mizuki said. The artificial cheer vanished from her voice, replaced by a cold focus.
“Don’t like the analogy, but exactly,” Noll said, his eyes darting across his notes.
“You think our guy is behind this?” X asked. “Experimented, lost control, and now has to be saved?”
“Highly probable,” Noll said, chewing the end of his pencil. “But let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“And the only way to find out…” X started.
“Is to venture deeper,” Mizuki finished, her gaze locked on the darkness ahead.
The exhaustion was gone from Noll’s face. The remorse was gone. In its place was a look of pure, unadulterated, and terrifying enthusiasm. He was beaming, but it wasn't her vacant cheer; it was the sharp, hungry grin of a predator who had just caught the scent of truly interesting prey.
“I really want to meet this person.”
“Lead the way,” X commanded, his voice echoing with renewed authority.
Noll needed no encouragement. He was already moving, a shadow detaching itself from the firelight, his every step filled with a new, predatory purpose. X followed, the leader falling into place behind his scout. Mizuki watched them for a heartbeat, then took her place, a silent, uncertain warrior with a heavy debt to pay, following two monsters deeper into the dark.
Mizuki was last in line. She glanced back at the five bodies. The crystals were gone.
“Where did the crystals go?”
“I removed them,” Noll’s voice came from ahead. “For analysis.”
She moved on.
The cavern opened into a grotesque cathedral of pulsing, chromatic crystals, their beauty desecrated by dozens of beast corpses. All of them bore the same crystalline growths.
“Host bodies likely expired due to the trauma of implantation,” Noll said, his voice a flat, academic drone.
“And no one bothered to clear them out,” X muttered, his mouth a grim line.
A dry, humorless chuckle from Noll. “It’s not like we’ll be the first ones to step over them.”
“We have to move forward,” X said, tearing his gaze away from the bodies. He paused. “Hey, is it just me, or did the air suddenly get colder?”
“Guys…” Mizuki’s voice was a ragged whisper. “You don’t feel that?”
X turned. She was trembling violently, a fine mist of frost clinging to her lips. Her sweat was freezing on her temples. A visible aura of cold radiated from her skin. Her hand twitched toward the brim—she forced it down. Her body was betraying her again.
“You feel something?” X asked, his voice low and urgent.
“Something… terrifying is in there.” Her voice trembled, but her finger was steady as she pointed toward a massive, arching hole in the far wall.
Noll scratched his chin. “A Chief, most likely. A pack this size would have an alpha.” He glanced at her shaking form. “If you’re too scared, you can stay here.”
The casual dismissal was a sharp, familiar jab. The old Mizuki would have roared. The old Mizuki would have charged. But the old Mizuki was a ruin.
“No… he’s right.” Her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white. The words were a desperate mantra. “I’m not scared. I will fight.” She forced herself to meet Noll’s gaze, her own stripped of its usual fire. “Knowing you, you have a plan. Just tell me what it is. I’ll cooperate.”
X’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her quiet submission, but he gave a single, almost imperceptible nod of approval before turning his attention back to the path ahead.
A slow, predatory smirk spread across Noll’s face. “I’m flattered, but no. I don’t have a plan.”
“Wha—?” She could only gape at him. He let out a jaw-cracking yawn, the picture of detached boredom.
“I see no reason to formulate a new plan,” he said, stretching his spine until it cracked. “Instead, I want you to make one.”
A strangled noise caught in her throat.
“Come on,” he said, his grin widening. “Make that brain work. I’m genuinely interested to see your thought process.”
She took a shuddering breath, pressing a finger to her forehead as if to physically force the thoughts into place. She squeezed her eyes shut. For a terrifying moment, there was nothing. Her mind, usually a storm of rage, was a dead calm. A blank slate. And the Chief was coming.
Think. Think like him. He didn’t feel; he calculated. She pictured the cavern not as a battlefield, but as a chessboard. The beasts were pawns. X was a rook, a wall of defense. Noll was the queen, striking from anywhere. And she was… a knight? A chaotic, unpredictable piece.
An old lesson from one of the “comfortable old men” at the Academy surfaced: When facing a superior foe, you do not engage directly. You isolate the weakest link.
The thought solidified. It was a textbook answer. Not brilliant. Probably not even good. But it was a plan. A foothold.
Her eyes snapped open, a spark of her old fire returning as she struck her fist into her palm. “I’ve got it. X and I will draw its attention—keep it busy. You stay back, find its weak spot, and deliver the final blow.” She looked at him, a fragile, hard-won pride on her face.
X managed a confused but encouraging smile, turning to Noll for final approval.
The curiosity on Noll’s face curdled into an expression of profound, undisguised disgust. “After all that,” he said, his voice dripping with disappointment, “is that the best you could come up with? You’re still thinking like an Academy student. Most of what they taught you is garbage.”
“Give me a break—it’s my first time!” Her voice cracked, a mix of fury and humiliation. Noll just rolled his eyes, turning away as if the conversation was already over.
“Well, it’s better than nothing,” X said, stepping between them, the weary mediator. He offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s go. I want this to be over.”
They went closer. The hole was now a grand, arching gateway. The air grew still and heavy, humming with a low, resonant energy that vibrated in her bones.
X took the lead. The tunnel opened into a vast, cathedral-like cavern, illuminated by a single, terrifying source: a throne of black rock and pulsating crystal. Upon it sat the Chief.
It was larger than the others, its hide scarred and thick, but it was the intelligence in its eyes that froze her in place. The crystal on its back was the size of a man’s torso, glowing with a malevolent crimson. This wasn’t a beast. The way it sat, the way its eyes tracked them… it was a king.
Slowly, deliberately, the Chief rose to its full, towering height. It took a step down from its throne, and when it spoke, the sound was a low, gravelly rumble, a horrifying mimicry of human speech.
“You… come far,” it rasped, the words broken, as if learned from dying screams. “Past my children. Past… the weak.”
The Chief pointed a massive claw at the glowing crystal embedded in its own chest.
“God… give crystal. Give… power.”
A cruel, knowing smile stretched across its maw. “You are not weak. You are strong.” It took another heavy step, claws scraping stone. “Now… I test. My… new power. Against… your power.”
It was Noll who stepped forward, a single, defiant figure who looked impossibly small before the monstrous king.
“Is god here?” he asked, his voice calm, almost conversational.
She saw his hand move behind his back, his fingers a blur of subtle, complex signals she couldn’t decipher. But X’s eyes were locked onto the movement, his lips moving silently. A secret language. Right in front of her. For the first time, she realized she wasn’t just on a team; she was an outsider.
The tapping stopped. The Chief was listening, its massive head tilted. X turned to her, his expression a mask of concentration. He raised a single finger, pointing up, then jabbed it down toward the ground. The message was brutally simple: Go high, strike low.
“If you use magic,” X whispered, “don’t hit the crystals.”
A final, unheard phrase passed Noll’s lips: “…meet god.”
The Chief flinched. A flicker of something that looked like superstitious fear in its intelligent eyes. It hesitated.
Then the hesitation broke. With a roar of pure rage, it lunged, not at the group, but directly at Noll.
X was already there, a wall of steel intercepting the massive claw with a deafening shriek that sent sparks flying.
Mizuki was already in the air, a comet of fury. She launched herself from the cavern wall, her bat crackling to life, a conduit of pure, destructive energy that filled the room with a strobing blue light.
The Chief’s attention snapped to her. Its crimson eyes narrowed, not in fear, but in recognition. It saw the crackling blue energy and classified it instantly: magic.
It didn’t brace. It waited, tracking her descent with a chilling calm, letting her commit to the strike. Only at the last possible second did it act. With impossible agility, it rotated, deliberately presenting the crystals on its back to her. It wasn’t a shield; it was a perfect counter.
A spike of cold dread hit her. He read me. I’m about to waste the strike. But just as the blow was about to connect, a shimmering pink ribbon of light materialized midair beneath her.
No time to question it. Instinct screamed at her to trust it. She didn’t pull the blow; she poured the raw lightning into the strange new channel. The energy followed the ribbon, a spiraling serpent of blue light that bypassed the crystal armor and struck the Chief directly in its unprotected eyes.
A shriek of pure, agonized pain tore through the cavern. The pink path vanished.
Blinded, the Chief thrashed wildly.
Her magic hadn’t touched the crystals, yet she saw them flare. What the hell? Why?
Down at the Chief’s legs, X pressed the advantage, his blade biting deep into the creature’s limb. The sound was not of tearing flesh, but of a pickaxe striking granite. He recoiled, his arms vibrating.
The roar of the blinded Chief filled the cavern. Mizuki landed, her gaze sweeping the area, looking for their strategist, for the next phase.
But he was gone. Not retreating. Not repositioning.
Noll had simply vanished.
“We are going through with your plan.” X’s voice was a low growl under the Chief’s screams.
Her head snapped toward him. My plan? The simple, stupid plan she’d made in a panic? The one Noll had looked at with such profound disgust?
He is probably somewhere nearby, beyond even our sight, trying to find the monster’s weak point
The battle was a blur of steel and thunder. Every time her bat connected, a crackle of lightning discharged into the Chief’s hide. Every time X’s blade found a gap, sparks flew. And with every blow, the crimson crystals on the monster's chest and back pulsed, drinking in the kinetic energy. A sickening lattice of red light climbed its torso, slow and steady.
Noll rose on a shimmering pink disk, his strange, crude weapon in hand. He knifed toward the Chief’s neck, ready to fire.
Smart, but risky move, she thought, her breath ragged. He’s aiming for the back of the neck. No crystals there. But he has to get close so the crystals won’t drink the strike.
The Chief stilled. It raised its head, and a low, gravelly sound rumbled from its chest. “I see you.”
Mizuki’s blood ran cold. The Chief’s intelligent, crimson eyes weren’t looking at Noll. They were gazing past him.
With a roar, the monster swiped at Noll.
Block it! Mizuki screamed internally. Use the pink shield!
But the shield, the infallible defense that had stopped everything, never appeared. Why isn’t it working? A horrifying realization hit her. The disk! He’s standing on the pink disk! Can he only make one thing at a time?
“NO!” X was already there, a blur of steel. Instead of blocking, X slammed his sword into Noll’s pink disk, hurling him clear of the claw’s devastating arc. X took the full, unmitigated impact himself. His armor screamed as he was thrown back, skidding across the stone.
The lattice on the Chief’s back brightened; one-fifth of it sputtered to life. A wave of dull crimson energy pulsed outward.
Mizuki felt it wash over her. Her muscles seized, locking rigid. It was as if every fiber of her being had been instantly turned to stone. She couldn't move. Couldn't even blink. X, a few yards away, was frozen in the same state, his face a mask of straining fury.
No. No! Move! Her mind screamed, but her body was a useless statue. I’m a burden. A worthless, paralyzed burden! She was forced to watch, trapped in her own armor.
Noll landed hard near the tunnel entrance, clear of the spell’s radius. He scrambled to his feet, saw their frozen forms, and his face twisted into a look of cold, raw desperation. He ripped the glove from his left hand.
It wasn't a hand. It was a dark, metallic prosthetic. A Nexus-Blade.
What…? Why does he have it?! Why does a Krinden heretic have Altavia’s most sacred weapon?!
He whispered a guttural phrase—she heard only “Awaken,” followed by a word she couldn’t comprehend.
A shriek of pure, inhuman agony tore from Noll’s throat. It was a sound that made her teeth ache. His skin ripped and tore. Bones snapped and reformed with wet, sickening cracks. The prosthetic detached, clattering to the cavern floor. In its place, a new, biological arm burst from the stump, scaled and clawed. He collapsed to his knees, head thrown back, his body convulsing as a monstrous, crystalline hide erupted from his own skin.
This is the heresy—true horror. Not just a heretic, but an abomination.
When the screaming stopped, Noll rose. He was a nightmare, a perfect fusion of his own intellect and the beast’s raw power. He moved; the Chief met him.
The cavern became a blur of two beasts locked in a fatal dance. Noll was faster, smarter, using his strange handheld weapon with feral precision. But the pink substance, Mizuki noted, was gone.
Why doesn’t he use it? Does that power come from his prosthetic?
And she could only watch. A spectator to her own fate, protected by the very "heresy" she despised, while she remained a useless, frozen liability.
The Chief was learning. It began to mirror Noll's feints, to anticipate his strikes. It was adapting. It found an opening, swatted Noll’s weapon from his hand—sending it skittering into the shadows—and slammed him against the cavern wall, a massive claw pinning him by the throat.
Its broken voice was clearer now, smoother. “You are not of this world. Are you… related to God?” Noll just glared, blood trickling from his lips.
“I never fight alone.”
The prosthetic, lying forgotten on the floor twenty feet away, sprang to life. A single, blinding blue shot erupted from its palm, striking the Chief directly in the spine. It roared in pure shock, its grip slackening. Noll dropped to the floor and lunged, not for his lost weapon, but for the Chief's legs. He tore into them with a feral fury, ripping away a massive chunk of flesh and sinew. The monster collapsed, its lower body ruined.
Noll staggered back. He looked at the Chief’s back. The blast had shattered some crystals, but the rest were now blazing with catastrophic power. The captured energy surged toward its jaw. It had to be released.
The Chief turned its head. It aimed at Noll, but he was already moving. So it swiveled, its crimson eyes finding the two statues in the back of the room. It leveled its maw at them.
Noll didn’t run. He sprinted toward them, turning his back to the Chief as the monster’s mouth gaped open. He shielded them with his own body.
The world went white.
When the blast faded, Noll stood, smoking, his own crystalline hide now glowing with the same unbearable light. He was a vessel filled to bursting. He turned, looked at the crippled, helpless form of the Chief, and unleashed the borrowed power. Its upper body simply ceased to exist.
Aftershock hung in the room. Noll stood, unmoving. Then the transformation began to reverse. The beast-hide cracked and fell away from his body like dried mud. The newly grown arm dissolved into black dust, leaving an empty sleeve. He swayed, and then he fell.
The spell broke. Air hit like a slap. Knees, mine again. She moved without thinking, lurching forward, catching him before he hit the ground. He was terrifyingly light… too light for someone who fought like that.
He began to cough, a wet, rattling sound. Blood bubbled at his lips. He wasn't breathing. What do I do? He’s dying!
Then she saw it. The prosthetic. It was crawling, dragging itself across the stone toward its master like a loyal, dying hound. Suppressing a wave of revulsion, Mizuki scrambled toward it, scooped up the cold metal, and jammed it into place. There was a soft click. Noll took a ragged, shuddering, desperate breath.
“Backpack…” X rasped weakly. He was moving, his armor groaning. “Check for… red liquid.”
She found the vial, poured the crimson contents into Noll’s mouth. His breathing steadied. She stood—the only one still on her feet. Noll was unconscious.
X was conscious but wounded. The cost of victory was absolute. That’s when she heard the scrape of stone.
Behind the Chief’s obliterated throne, the cavern wall had been shattered. And from the new, dark passage revealed behind it, a human figure stepped out into the light.
"I never fight alone."
-
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Nexus-Blade (Altavia’s sacred weapon) as a prosthetic arm. That is major heresy.
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Question of the Chapter: Noll calls Mizuki "useless" and "stupid," but then nearly dies protecting her. Is he a hero with zero social skills, or is he just protecting his "investments"?
Let me know what you think of the transformation in the comments!
Next Chapter: We meet the person behind the curtain. And if you think the Chief was bad… just wait.
If you enjoyed the boss fight: Please consider dropping a Rating or a Review. It helps more than you know!