The paralysis spread fast.
Veins bloomed black beneath my skin. Every pulse dragged shadow deeper—into my leg, my spine, my chest.
Breathing grew harder. Focus slipped. The connection to my limbs began to flicker.
And I let it.
Let it drown me—at least on the outside.
Because inside, where mana flowed, I wasn't still.
I was active. Sharp. Ready.
I killed the current.
In one breath, I cut the flow. Mana severed—shut off like a guillotine snapping closed.
The poison halted.
It needed movement. Circulation. But I gave it nothing.
The elf took the bait.
He moved fast—rushing at me. He saw the chance and wanted to take it.
His expression remained the same—detached curiosity.
Like a predator studying its prey before the final strike.
His bow lowered.
"You fought well, human," he said, voice quiet. Almost respectful. "But you should have run."
He stepped within reach.
That was his mistake.
My fingers snapped upward—faster than thought—and clamped around his skull.
His eyes widened. Too late.
I drove my forehead into his face.
Bone cracked. Cartilage collapsed. Blood splattered.
His body rocked back, but I didn't let go.
I held on. Pulled him close.
And I remembered the Alpha Hound.
The way it had swelled. Turned itself into a furnace of raw mana. Detonated to kill.
I wasn't going to explode—this wasn't a detonation. I wasn't using my core as a fuse. I was releasing everything. All at once.
I opened the floodgates.
Let go of everything I had—every drop.
Mana erupted outward—not wild, not chaotic.
Directed.
A surge of pressure ripped through every node, every circuit. A roar of energy crashing down my veins.
My body became the weapon.
And the target? Still in my grip.
The elf's mouth opened—maybe to scream.
But he had no time.
The mana struck like a star collapsing inward.
Pure force. Pure resonance.
His body was obliterated..
Flesh peeled away. Bone dissolved. Shadows screamed as light tore them apart.
Then—
Silence.
The world snapped back. I fell.
Legs collapsed. Breath shallow. Chest heaving.
I hit the moss with a dull thud, heart hammering in my ears.
Everything burned. My head rang.
My vision blurred.
The world was slowly spinning.
But I was alive.
I couldn't black out here.
Gritting my teeth, I dragged myself upright.
Muscles screamed, nerves frayed—but I forced my body into motion.
I knew exactly what had to come next.
No hesitation.
Activate the Sacrificial Technique: Blood Cell Expansion.
Heart pain surged anew, sharp and hot, but I pressed forward. Time was short.
I moved swiftly, desperately, and found it—the Solmon Tree.
With trembling hands, I extracted the poison, filling the makeshift vial carved from its bark the day before.
It was time to return to the south of the forest.
I could only hope that I do not meet anything as dangerous as the elf.
Halfway through the return—
Branches snapped.
Not animal. Too careful. Too aware.
I crouched low, breath tight, fingers grazing the inside of my coat where the Solmon vial pulsed with faint warmth.
Still intact. Still hidden.
More steps now—closer. Voices.
Calixtus. Thalia. Eleanor.
They came.
I stood before they saw me.
Thalia spotted me first. "Kaelen!"
She moved fast—then slowed when she saw the state of me. Clothes shredded. Face pale. Eyes hollow.
The others emerged behind her, ready to attack if something was close, but not openly hostile.
Even Marcus and his team—unexpected—stood at the edge, jaw set, silent.
None of them should've come. They knew that.
The Institution made sure of it. Trained it into us from the first year.
Never go back. No one is worth compromising the mission. Survival is loyalty.
And still... they came.
I didn't speak.
Just stared, slow and silent, before walking forward. Step by step. My legs nearly gave out twice, but I didn't let them.
When I reached them, I stopped. Looked each one in the eye.
I didn't offer details. Didn't tell them what I'd done, or what I'd taken.
Didn't tell them about the elf, or the way his body had been erased.
Didn't tell them I was carrying a weapon in my pocket that could shatter Lukas from the inside out.
Because this wasn't about trust. This was about control.
And yet—when they stepped in to steady me, when Thalia pressed her hand lightly to my shoulder, when Marcus said, "Took us a while to track you, but figured you'd survive"—
—I felt it.
The gap between us.
Because they'd come back. For me.
And if it were reversed?
I wouldn't have. I wouldn't even have thought about it.
I would've cut the losses. Rebalanced the mission.
Let them die.
They're better than me.
But that metric didn't matter to me.
Being better than someone—if it meant risking yourself—was useless.
"I ran into some trouble. Let's head south," I said, tone kept firm.
"Some trouble, yeah right. What were you fighting? A dragon?" Calixtus asked, voice light but eyes sharp.
Humorous—on the surface. But I sensed the seriousness beneath it.
"Some creature," I said. "Not in the databooks. Looked like a malformed warbeast. Extra limbs. Blind in one eye."
I left out the part where it spoke. The bow. The words. The fact that I'd erased it.
"The forest was shifting," I added. "Landmarks moved. Had to circle twice before I found stable ground."
That part was true. Mostly.
I saw the flicker of unease in Thalia's face. The slight narrowing of Eleanor's eyes.
Good. Let them think it was the forest. Let them think the danger was environmental.
The elf mentioned something—at the beginning of our interaction.
"Our hunting grounds."
Plural. Not mine. Our.
There were more.
I didn't have confirmation. But the implication sat like a weight at the back of my mind.
He wasn't some lone anomaly twisted by the Veiled Forest.
He was experienced. Precise. Controlled.
A hunter.
Which meant there was a pack. Maybe even a society of theirs.
No one here could handle one of them. Marcus had a chance, the rest, I doubt it.
They would come—for me. For us.
And I could use that.
If timed right, their arrival could fracture the group—draw attention away. Create noise. A crack in the plan. A way out.
But I couldn't reveal it. Not yet. They couldn't be ready.
For now I had to hold out until we were south enough.
And as that thought settled—cold and precise—Thalia spoke.
"Let's get some rest for now," she said. "Kaelen's not in a state where he can walk."
She didn't look at me. Just said it like it was truth. Like she'd measured it already.
Then, softer—almost to herself:
"I can hear his heartbeat. It's not well."
I met her eyes. Just for a second.
I couldn't protest.
Pushing it now would only make me look suspicious.
So I stayed quiet. Let them think I was just too tired to argue.
Hopefully, the elves wouldn't notice one of them was gone too soon.