Watching Elijah tear through those dark spiders, I couldn't help asking myself a simple question.
How strong is Elijah?
Or… how weak are those spiders?
I wasn't sure which answer made more sense. Maybe neither did. In the end, it didn't matter. Not here. Not with how easily he handled them.
.
.
We kept moving through the narrow trails of Minnelet Woods. The deeper we went, the more the trees pressed in, their roots twisting like veins under the soil.
It didn't take long.
Another dark spider dropped from a branch with a sharp thkk! Elijah didn't even slow down. Slice! The creature hit the dirt before it fully realized it was dead.
Another two crawled out from under a fallen trunk. Elijah sighed, lifted his sword, and went to work.
Clash!
Crunch!
Shhk!
Three hits. Three bodies. He didn't bother gloating this time; the annoyance was starting to show on his face.
They kept coming in pairs, then in groups of three. Every few minutes, the skittering would start again, and Elijah would step forward like he'd been waiting for it.
At some point he muttered, "Dark spiders… the damn woods are full of them this year."
Even then, he carved through them like nothing. His mechanical arm cracked shells open with dull, heavy thuds, while his sword split whatever tried to slip past his guard.
But the spiders weren't the real threat.
We felt the presence first. Heavy. Slow. Confident.
A low growl rolled through the trees, followed by another and another. White shapes emerged between the trunks, their fur almost glowing in the dim light. Each one had a single curved horn jutting from its forehead like polished bone.
"Horned wolves."
Elijah's posture tightened. Even he didn't joke about these ones.
The pack fanned out. Five of them. Maybe six. Hard to tell with how they circled.
The first wolf lunged with a burst of speed that didn't match its size.
Bam! The impact rattled Elijah's metal arm as he blocked with the forearm plate. He slid half a step back in the dirt.
Another wolf came from the right. Snap! Its jaws clashed shut inches from his hip before he shoved it aside.
He was holding them back… barely. His swings weren't as clean. The wolves pushed him, forcing him to shift, adapt, respond on instinct.
"Tch… annoying bastards," he muttered, irritation rising.
Then he paused. Reached into his pocket.
I blinked.
He pulled out a hay toothpick, then popped it between his teeth like this was a break, not a life-or-death moment.
The change was instant.
His eyes narrowed. His stance settled. His breathing sharpened. It was like every loose thought in his head snapped into place.
The next wolf rushed him.
Clang! Elijah caught it by the horn with his metal hand, spun, and threw it straight into another charging wolf. Both bodies collapsed in a heap.
He stepped in. Shhhk! His blade carved a clean line across a throat.
A third wolf pounced. He ducked under it. Wham! His elbow—metal, of course—drove into its ribs, cracking something important.
The pack tried to regroup, but Elijah didn't give them the space.
Crack!
Shff!
Thud!
By the time he stopped, the forest went quiet again. The white fur of the wolves was stained with streaks of red, their bodies sprawled across the roots.
Elijah kept the toothpick in his mouth, flicked some blood from his sleeve, and tilted his head back with a calm, almost bored look.
"Well," he said, exhaling, "that's more like it."
....
Light started breaking through ahead, a quiet hint that we were finally nearing the edge of the forest. The path didn't let up, though. More monsters came at us—dark spiders, horned wolves, even some bat-like things I couldn't name, but Elijah cut them down as fast as they appeared.
Watching him move made one thing clear. His strength wasn't just for show. He was a formidable warrior.
I thought about using my domain, but honestly, there was no point. Elijah was handling everything without breaking a sweat.
.
.
The path ahead was finally visible, Seraphina made the forest sound deeper than it really was. A few more steps and we'd be out.
Then Elijah stopped and lifted a hand, telling us to hold.
His ears twitched as if he were sharpening his hearing. I didn't catch anything at first. But as the seconds dragged on, the sound reached me too, bushes rustling hard, growing louder, heavier. Whatever was coming wasn't small.
But why stop?
Why wait?
We were right at the exit. A little more walking and we'd be out.
Unless…
Seraphina gripped Elijah's shoulder, firm and impatient.
"Seriously? Why the sudden stop? We're damn near the end of this forest," she said.
He didn't answer. He didn't even look at her. He just stood there, still as anything.
That did it. Seraphina's patience snapped; I saw it in the way her face tightened.
"What the hell is the matter, Lijah? This isn't how you operate."
She stepped closer,
"You can be reckless, absolutely, but you are not dumb enough to just stand here and wait for something to flank us."
But still nothing.
He didn't say anything. He just stood there, waiting for whatever was about to break through the trees.
That's when Seraphina finally understood. That's when she caught the real reason behind his stop. I'd already figured it out, but her admiration for him slowed the truth from settling in.
"Wait, don't tell me," she began. "This whole disaster—this whole frantic race to the border regions—you lied about the reason, didn't you? You said it was about that healing mage, that you saw him near the Haldrin village. You said the mage was renowned, that he could heal the injuries Corny sustained... the injuries he got fighting for you, fighting for a cause we don't even know half the truth about! So, you brought us here to fight the Gross Wyrm? That gigantic serpent has been your target all this while. That's why you chose this forest route, and that's why you refused to wait even a minute longer in the village hoping to spot that mage… because you knew the mage was never there to begin with!"
"Fuck!"
"You're after its venom, aren't you?" she spat out, her eyes furious. "Fuck, you know damn well that no one here is a mage! I don't even have an awakened soul to begin with! You literally brought me right to my death!"
Then Elijah finally spoke, and the words cut deeper than anything in those bushes,
"I never asked you to follow me."
Seraphina's eyes widened in shock. She slowly took a few steps back, her expression one of absolute regret for every decision she had ever made.
"No, fuck you. Fuck this whole miserable shit show. I'm leaving right now, and I'm done with this."
Full of rage, Seraphina turned her back on us and headed straight for the exit.
That's when it crawled out.
A massive green-brown serpent slid from the underbrush, its scales scraping against the earth. It could only be one thing. The Gross Wyrm. A creature so deadly it didn't need to roar or threaten; the air around it felt poisonous enough.
And the worst part?
It must've heard the argument. That silence we took for nothing was it listening, slipping closer, hiding its presence until the moment it could strike.
Then it moved.
FWOOOM—!
Its tail cracked through the air like a whip, smashing straight into Seraphina's side.
CRASH—!
She hit a tree so hard the bark split.
Her body went limp.
Out cold.
"SERAPHINA!" Elijah roared, reaching out like he could catch her from twenty meters away.
His voice shook something inside the forest.
Then everything snapped.
He tore his blade free. He didn't hesitate, no sign of fear in his gaze, only fueled by rage.
And then he charged.
"RRRAAAHH—!"
His first strike came fast—
SLASH!
But the Wyrm's body twisted, scales ringing like iron as they deflected the blow.
It slammed its tail again.
WHUMP—!
Elijah blocked with his mechanical arm, but the force still sent him sliding back, boots carving trenches in the dirt.
"Tch…"
He lunged again.
Slash.
SLASH.
SLLAASH—!
The Wyrm coiled and struck low.
BAM—!
Its head smashed him in the ribs, as he gasped, breath knocked out.
Then its tail whipped around like a hammer.
THWACK—!
Elijah flew sideways, crashing through a bush and rolling across the ground.
"Damn… you…" he growled, dragging himself back up.
He barely got his footing before the Wyrm rushed him again, its coils sweeping like a tidal wave.
WHOOOSH—!
He tried to dodge—
But the tail caught him across the back.
SMASH—!
He hit the dirt hard, metal arm scraping, the impact echoing through the clearing.
The Wyrm loomed over him, massive body shifting, venom dripping from its fangs, the earth itself trembling beneath its weight.
Elijah spat blood, wiped his mouth, and lifted his blade again, panting but unbroken.
Couldn't have asked for a better moment to use it.
My mana domain was right there, coiled under my skin, ready to snap open.
But before I could take a step, something caught my eye.
Elijah reached into his coat.
Slow. Deliberate.
Like he'd been saving this for when things got truly desperate.
He pulled out a pearl.
Just a small white sphere at first glance.
Then he tossed it into the air.
The moment it left his hand, it split with a sharp crack.
FWIP—!
Light burst out, curling and folding like a flower blooming in reverse.
And from that light came a weapon.
Not just any weapon.
A spear.
A long, elegant spear with golden patterns etched along the shaft, lines that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
The kind of design that didn't look forged.
I didn't need anyone to tell me what it was. One look—and the way my body reacted—told me everything. This thing was a soul weapon.
A soul weapon.
Elijah has… a soul weapon.
Of course.
That confidence he carried walking straight into monster territory.
That reckless certainty he had when choosing the forest path over a soldier-patrolled road.
He caught the descending spear with one hand, spun it like he'd been born with it, and set his stance as if the world had finally lined up beneath him.
Then the Gross Wyrm lunged first, as the ground shook under its weight. The air snapped like something alive.
Elijah didn't flinch, as he swung the spear in a clean arc.
SWISH—THNK!
A streak of white light tore through the air and carved a line across the Wyrm's scales.
Not deep enough to kill.
But enough to make the monster recoil with a violent hiss.
Elijah didn't stop there.
He stepped in, quick and sharp, spear tip flashing.
THRUST—CLANG—SLASH—
Every movement looked drilled into his bones.
The spear spun in his grip, darting, each strike forcing the Wyrm back inch by inch.
For a moment—
Just a breath—
It looked like he had it.
Like this monster was finally meeting someone it couldn't just swallow whole.
Elijah kicked off a root, lunging again, the spear aimed straight for the Wyrm's eye.
But the Wyrm reared back and roared. A pulse of force rolled off its body, bending branches, shaking dirt loose from the trees, flattening the grass around it.
Suddenly the world froze for half a second, even the birds went silent.
And in that stillness—
it moved.
FWIP—WHAMMMMM!
The Wyrm's tail swung out hitting Elijah square in the torso.
The impact was so brutal the entire forest seemed to gasp.
His mechanical arm tore free with a sickening wrench of metal, as It spun through the air, hitting the ground with a heavy clatter.
Elijah wasn't so lucky.
His body slammed into a tree with a sound that felt like it could crack my ribs just hearing it.
CRACK—!
Blood burst from his mouth, splattering across the bark.
He slid down and hit the ground hard, barely conscious.
Seraphina was still out cold.
Then the Wyrm turned, Its massive head swung in my direction, tongue flicking out, tasting the air. Its eyes locked onto me with that cold, animal certainty.
Of course it left Elijah, and now it's targeting me, the typical causality trope.
Leon was just a character whose sole purpose was to serve as a life-shaking realization moment for Elijah.
It was so clear.
But the joke's on you, Fate. I have already decided the end.
The Inertia Precept.
My understanding of gravity is beyond the bounds of your reach. I can feel it; I already know how to wield it—my mana domain.
I muttered, "Domain Release."
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[A/N:] A long chapter for you guys, enjoy the fight and blood pumping