LUCIUS
My blade was just inches away—no, barely an inch—from sinking into the Chimaera's exposed neck. Victory was within reach. True, absolute victory. It felt as though the world itself paused for a heartbeat, holding its breath to witness the fall of an apex predator at the hands of one who refused to give up. A moment suspended in time, a grand ending carved into the silence before the inevitable—
BBBOOOOOM!
That sound shattered everything. The pressure in my chest turned to dread as instinct overtook triumph. I turned mid-air, blade held firm but heart lurching, the kill forgotten. I didn't need to think. I already knew. That sound had come from one place—Forza's direction. And something in me screamed that she wasn't safe.
My gaze locked onto her location. Something was approaching—fast, unnaturally fast. A shadow blurred through the sky, small and narrow, diving toward her like a divine spear cast down from the heavens. Whatever it was, it was moving at speeds I could barely comprehend, breaking through the air with a sonic roar. It wasn't a spell. It wasn't natural. It was alive—and locked on.
Forza reacted with the kind of precision only a veteran could muster, but even she wasn't at her full strength. Her body twisted mid-air, a sharp evasive manoeuvre executed with barely a sliver of mana. She dodged, but not by much. The thing grazed past her, carving through where she'd been only a breath before. Her limbs remained intact, but I could see it—she was tired, exhausted, nearing her limit. The toll of her battle with the Chimaera had drained her, and this new threat wasn't giving either of us time to recover or replenish.
I tried to make sense of what I'd seen. Was it another beast? A high-ranking aerial predator, perhaps even higher than the Chimaera? I didn't recognise it, not by shape or movement, but it was fast. Too fast. And if Forza could barely evade it… We had a new problem.
That realisation struck hard, and not just because of the unknown enemy. I turned back to the Chimaera, and my stomach sank. I had let her live. My moment of hesitation, of distraction, which barely lasted less than five seconds, had cost us. She was stirring again, and the energy rising from her body was not just familiar—it was furious. A surge of lightning-infused mana burst outward in all directions, raw and wild, twisting the air around her like a growing storm.
I clenched my jaw and dashed forward, Crimson Ultima gripped tight in both hands. I didn't ignite the flame. I couldn't afford to waste that kind of mana right now. Instead, I poured raw essence into the blade, feeling its edges hum with dense energy. I wasn't done. Not yet.
Her eyes met mine as I closed the distance. Four intelligent, venomous eyes locked onto me with chilling clarity. There was no confusion in them—no panic and no fear. Only hatred. A deep, personal loathing that somehow spoke to me without words. It wasn't just anger at being struck down—it was rage born from the insult of mercy, or perhaps ignoring her, I don't know.
I could read it in her gaze. "You should have killed me when you had the chance. Now, I'll make you regret that weakness—even after death."
The look she gave me was more than animal. It was calculated. Malevolent. The type of hate that doesn't end, even after blood stops flowing.
I gritted my teeth and whispered, "We'll see about that."
I raised my weapon, aiming directly for the neck. This time, I wouldn't stop. I wouldn't hesitate. No more mistakes. No more distractions.
But then, another sound rolled across the battlefield.
A low, guttural rumble, not from the earth, but from above. The grey sky darkened further as a deep growl echoed through the clouds, like thunder being dragged across the heavens by something ancient and angry. The air pressure shifted, and my instincts warned me that something was descending. Something massive.
I refused to look. I forced myself not to. I couldn't afford to take my eyes off her again. Whatever was coming… it wasn't my concern. Not yet. The sky wasn't my battlefield. My enemy was right here in front of me, bleeding, breathing, smiling—wait.
Smiling?
Half a meter from my lead foot, the Chimaera's lips curled into a hideous grin. Twisted and bloodied, it stretched wider than it should've, revealing rows of jagged teeth still slick with gore. There was something unnatural about it—something wrong. That smile wasn't born from instinct or madness. It was something deeper. A knowing expression, steeped in malice.
She wasn't afraid.
She wasn't beaten.
That smile was a warning—an omen. A promise that this wasn't over, not even close. And in that moment, I understood something I hadn't before.
Whatever was in the sky… it was my problem.
And I was already too late to stop it.
The thunder struck—yes, the actual thunder, not just a sound but a punishment of the storm, came crashing down. It wasn't a flash, nor a rumble. It was massive. Far too massive for any natural lightning strike I'd ever witnessed. And its impact point? The Chimaera, the sole impact point.
The moment it hit, everything around her erupted. The strike didn't simply land—it detonated a hundred times over compared to the ones our combined bombardment had caused. A colossal explosion of blinding light and raw power consumed the air, shook the very foundation beneath my feet, and electricity burst in all directions, dancing like living threads of wrath. The resulting boom was deafening, an ungodly sound that shook the entire swamp. For a split second, the world blurred. I was far too close to avoid the shockwave completely—but for once, luck favoured me.
Crimson Ultima pulsed with instinctive defence, its body rising between me and the blast like a living wall. Even then, the force hurled me backwards like a leaf in a hurricane. I flew. Across the water, across the mud, the entire swamp lake became a blur beneath me—until I finally crashed down on the far side, coughing, rolling, and finally skidding to a stop.
My hands and feet throbbed with bruises, my body aching, but nothing serious. No broken bones. No lasting injuries. Using the last of my healing potions to heal myself nearly completely, I should've been grateful—but I wasn't. Because as I slowly lifted my head and dared to glance skyward, what I saw reminded me this was far from over.
Forza was already airborne, engaged in battle with that aerial predator. It darted around her with terrifying agility. Its shape was sleek, sharp, but still, no known species came to mind. Whatever it was, it was deadly. I could barely follow its movements even from this distance. But more importantly…
A spike of killing intent erupted behind, in front of me.
No… not just killing intent. Malicious. Sentient. Cold and deliberate. It came from the very spot where the lightning had landed.
I turned.
"What…?" I breathed. It didn't make sense. That thunder strike should've vaporised her. Nothing should have survived such a death-level discharge. And yet—she lived. Worse, she was moving. Worse still, her presence was growing.
The questions piled up like a collapsing mountain: How was she still alive? How could she emit such overwhelming mana right after being struck by thunder itself? What was she? No answer came to mind, but it didn't matter. Because the being that stepped forward from the smoke wasn't just a Chimaera anymore.
She felt like death reincarnated. Her eyes and tail were surprisingly calm...
I braced myself. Crimson Ultima hummed in my hands, its form shifting slightly as I instinctively shifted into a defensive stance. My mana surged outward, unfiltered, unchained, reacting to the monstrous presence before me. Two opposing forces clashed across the space between us. My aura, brimming with wariness, with protective instinct and survival. Hers… hers was pure hatred. Rage. Insult. It was darker than darkness, more still than the dead swamp water lying silently between us.
She stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately.
Every step she took was cold, wrong. Not wrong in form, but in intent. Each movement oozed unnatural malice, the kind that didn't belong in beasts. Not even in sentient ones. Her body still bore the damage Forza had inflicted—ripped flesh, torn muscles, cracked bones. And yet she moved like she didn't feel any of it. Like, pain no longer mattered.