The two maintained distance, weaving in and out like twin flames in a deadly dance. Ronan darted to the side, unleashing a trio of compact fireballs—Flare Burst—that seared into the beast's hide, leaving molten scars. As the creature swiped, he responded with Blazing Strike, a horizontal arc of crimson fire cleaving through the air and forcing the monster back.
The monster retaliated with a wide stomp that shattered the ground, but Ronan reacted swiftly, slamming his hand into the earth. Molten Shield erupted—a wall of lava that rose just in time to absorb the shockwave.
Kael seized the moment, his fingers dancing as he conjured Mirage Prison. A veil of mist exploded outward, refracting light and twisting sound, disorienting the beast. Then came Phantom Mirage—a dozen shifting clones of Kael spiralling around the monster, some flickering out, others passing through attacks, keeping the creature guessing.
Above, Ronan chanted again, eyes glowing fiercely. "Firestorm Barrage!" he roared. From the air above the beast, a rain of flaming meteors poured down, hammering the stunned monster in a cascade of explosions that lit up the entire cavern in flashes of red and gold.
The battle dragged on for over an hour. Exhaustion etched deep into their features, bodies battered, mana nearly drained. Still, Ronan pushed on, activating his perception skill, Keen Eyes, scanning the monster for the smallest sign of vulnerability.
Kael shouted over the chaos, panic creeping into his voice. "Ronan, we're not getting anywhere! At this rate, we'll run out of mana. And stop using Keen Eyes—your eyes are turning red!"
Blood trickled from Ronan's left eye. He blinked hard, breathing heavily. "I think... I found a way to kill it. Can you hold it for a few seconds?"
Kael didn't hesitate. "Not sure... but I'll try my best. Just don't die on me."
Both were soaked in blood, their clothes torn and scorched. Still, Kael took a deep breath and raised his hand. "Steam Torrent!"
A roaring wave of superheated mist erupted from Kael's palm, flooding the battlefield. The monster shrieked as the boiling vapour singed its flesh, trying to retreat—but Kael guided the mist with precision, keeping the pressure on.
They began a deadly game of cat and mouse. Kael's legs buckled slightly, but he refused to let the torrent falter. "Ronan, hurry! I can't keep this up! This skill drains my mana like a damn waterfall!"
Ronan stepped forward, forming a hand seal. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Void Overdrive... output fifty-five per cent."
Crimson cracks laced his arms, neck, and face. His veins bulged, glowing faintly with unstable energy. The air around him shimmered and warped, heat radiating off his body like a rising sun.
"Kael," he shouted, his voice suddenly filled with power. "Stand down."
Kael gasped, stopping the torrent. The steam vanished instantly. As he turned to Ronan, his eyes widened. "What the hell...? Is that really Void Overdrive? I've seen it before—but this... this is different. It's like... the air around him is boiling."
Before Kael could say more, Ronan vanished. A blink—and he was in front of the monster.
A single punch to its chin launched the beast skyward, its chest exposed. The moment of vulnerability Ronan had been waiting for.
Concentrating all his mana into his palm, flames swirled violently. His skin began to blister, the sheer heat scorching even him. He leapt, chasing the airborne monster.
"Flame Fist!" he roared.
His open palm slammed into the monster's chest with explosive force. A shockwave rippled outward as the monster let out its final, soul-wrenching cry. The impact hurled the creature into the cave wall, cracking stone and shaking the entire cavern.
Silence followed.
Ronan stood before the smouldering body, chest heaving, skin charred, arm trembling. Kael stumbled forward to stand beside him.
Ronan stared at his scorched hand. "Did I... accidentally use Ghost Flame? Or... did it choose to act on its own?"
Kael glanced at him, eyes filled with both awe and fear. "You okay?"
Ronan gave a tired smile. "Barely."
They stood in silence, surrounded by ruin and fire, their breaths slow and ragged—but they were alive.
Ronan's strike landed cleanly, his hand imprint seared into the monster's manubrium—the central part of its bony chest. For a moment, all was still.
Then, a strange, glowing mark bloomed where his hand had struck, spiralling with ancient, broken runes.
Kael stepped forward, his brows furrowed. "Is this... some kind of cursed mark?"
Ronan narrowed his eyes, breathing heavily. "I don't know," he muttered.
Before they could speculate further, the glowing mark cracked like glass—and shattered. In the silence that followed, a faint shimmer rose from the monster's chest. A soul emerged, ethereal and translucent, drifting into the air with an unnatural grace.
Kael's eyes widened. "A soul... but why does it look like a human?"
Ronan stood frozen, silently watching as the soul took the shape of a man—young, humble in appearance, yet strangely dignified. The soul turned to them, his expression filled with quiet gratitude. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his lips. Still, the gesture was clear. He bowed deeply before Ronan and Kael, a satisfied smile on his face, like a prisoner finally freed after an eternity of torment.
Then, he began to fade.
Kael clenched his fists, a storm of thoughts whirling in his mind. "Did he want to say something?"
Ronan's heart sank. A surge of energy burst around Ronan as he deactivated his Void Overdrive. His body returned to normal—almost. His right hand was scorched and trembling, and his left eye had turned an eerie crimson. The pain pulsed through him like fire beneath the skin.
Both he and Kael bowed their heads, their voices quiet. "Rest in peace."
Ronan then looked up, a sudden realisation striking him. "Kael, something's wrong. I lost connection with my clone—the one I sent to the small pond."
Kael turned sharply. "The memory won't return to you?"
Ronan shook his head and made a hand seal. Two more clones appeared beside him. "There's one reason this happens. He must've been severely injured. If he came back, I'd experience the same pain he felt. So... he broke the connection between me and himself. He was protecting me."
Silently, Ronan removed his shirt, revealing burns and bruises across his chest and arms. He gestured to his clones.
"You tend to Kael's wounds. You treat mine."
Kael watched in quiet awe. "This PhantomClone technique... It's more complex than I thought. By the way, how did you even notice that cursed mark on the monster?"
Ronan nodded toward the monster's remains. "Something felt off the moment I saw it. So I observed it closely during our fight. And I noticed—the monster's mana wasn't depleting like ours. Every time it took damage, it absorbed mana to recover. I traced the mana flow back to its source... the manubrium. That's where it all began."
His gaze turned to his bandaged hand. He clenched it slowly. "I only used fifty-five per cent of Void Overdrive... and it almost tore my body apart. I need to get stronger—physically. I won't survive the next time otherwise."
Kael nodded, concern written across his face. "How's your hand?"
Ronan exhaled slowly, staring down at it. "I need to figure something out. Especially when using Void Overdrive."
They wrapped their wounds with clean white bandages. Then, Ronan handed two pickaxes to his clones, who immediately began digging around the area.
Ronan and Kael stood silently before the monster's corpse.
Ronan asked, "What do we do with the body?"
Kael looked around the cave cautiously. "Let's wait a bit. This thing was already injured when we fought it. That means someone else is here—or was. If they show up now, we're in no shape to fight. And honestly, I'd rather avoid a confrontation."
Ronan nodded. "Agreed."
But the quiet didn't last.
A cold, arrogant voice echoed through the cavern. "Why did you kill the monster I was hunting? You won't gain anything from it, even if you defeat it."
Both Ronan and Kael turned sharply, immediately going on guard. A figure stood at the cave's entrance, framed in the faint light—slender, with sharp features and a spear in hand. He looked to be about Kael's age.
Kael stepped forward cautiously. "We had no intention of killing your prey. It attacked us. We had to defend ourselves."
But the boy didn't hear. His eyes gleamed with superiority, and his tone dripped with disdain. "Excuses. Weak ones at that."
"He's not human... What race is he?" Kael thought.
The boy raised his spear and pointed it directly at Ronan. "Sorry. You need to die here. Let's start with the weak one."
He lunged.
In a blur, another figure appeared—a middle-aged man, stern and composed, vanishing from sight and reappearing between Ronan and the attacker. With a swift movement, he caught the spear mid-thrust, stopping it inches from Ronan's chest.
Simultaneously, three flying daggers zipped through the air and halted at the throat of the young attacker.
The boy's eyes widened. He froze.
The middle-aged man glanced at Ronan, then at Kael. "You two alright?"
Kael nodded slowly, still stunned. Ronan exhaled. "Yeah... for now."
The man turned to the boy, voice like steel. "You're not ready for this world if you let pride blind you. Stand down."
And for a moment, the cave was still again—until the tension in the air began to slowly fade.