From above the forest, it would have looked like nothing more than shadows slipping through leaves. Two fast-moving shapes cutting across the canopy, branches shaking in their wake as they pushed forward without slowing. But ahead of them, planted in their path, a massive figure stood waiting. Still. Silent. A spear raised and already aimed, like it had been expecting them all along.
Zephyr saw it.
Too clearly.
He didn't know when it happened. Didn't know how his escape had curved back into danger. One moment he was running from Rhyssa, the next he had flown straight into the territory of the same Anakim they had barely escaped earlier.
Bad luck. Or something worse.
Still, he didn't turn.
There was no point.
The Anakim had already locked onto them. Any sudden shift now would only make things worse, not better.
'I just need… one thing to go right,' Zephyr thought, forcing his wings to hold steady despite the pressure building on his body.
'If its attention shifts… even for a second…'
That was all he needed.
Behind him, the cable remained tight. Rhyssa was still being pulled closer, still tracking him, still ready to fire the moment she had the chance. And now ahead… the Anakim.
Then the Anakim moved.
Its arm swung forward with brutal force, and the spear left its hand.
It didn't fly.
It tore through the air.
The sheer size of it made the movement look slow, but the speed told a different story. Wind split around it. The tip cut forward, aimed straight at them, carrying enough force to rip through anything in its path.
Zephyr saw it coming.
His body reacted.
Too slow.
Not enough space.
He forced himself down, pushing his wings hard as his body dipped just below the spear's path. The movement was rough, unbalanced, almost desperate.
The underside of it scraped across his back, dragging along his feathers and skin. The force alone made his body jolt mid-air.
Zephyr slipped under it by the smallest margin possible.
Barely. By a hair.
And somehow… still alive.
Rhyssa didn't dodge.
Her suit reacted first. Warning lights flashed across her interface even before the spear left the Anakim's hand. Signals. Alerts. Calculations running at full speed. But for a split second, she didn't piece it together.
Then Zephyr dropped.
That sudden movement cleared her view.
And she saw it.
The spear.
Too close. Too fast.
Her thrusters fired instantly. Air burst from her back, her sides, her palms, trying to push her out of the line. But it wasn't enough. Not this time. Not at this distance.
Bang!
The spear crashed straight into the center of her suit. The force didn't just hit, it carried her. Her body snapped backward, dragged by the momentum like she weighed nothing.
The cable between her and Zephyr went tight.
Violently.
"Ahr!!" Zephyr cried out as the pull hit him.
One moment he was flying forward. The next, his entire body jerked back. Hard.
He was ripped out of his path and thrown backward along with her. Lennox and Isla held on, but they felt it too, the sudden shift tearing through their bodies.
They crashed through the trees.
One after another.
Crack!
Snap!
Boom!
Branches shattered. Trunks split. Leaves exploded into the air. The cable sliced through anything that stood in its way, cutting through thick wood as if it were nothing.
From above, the forest didn't just shake.
It broke.
A clear path carved straight through it in seconds, like something massive had dragged a blade across the land.
Still, the force didn't stop.
The spear kept driving forward, its power only slowly bleeding out as it tore through the ground ahead.
Then—
Boom!
It struck deep into the earth.
The impact shook the area, carving a long trench across the forest floor. Dirt burst upward. Roots tore loose. The ground itself split under the pressure.
Finally, the motion died.
Everything stopped.
For a moment… silence.
No movement.
No voices.
Only the aftermath.
Broken trees lay scattered. The once dense forest now had a wide, open scar running through it. Dust hung in the air, drifting slowly as the sky above became visible through the destruction.
And in that sudden stillness…
Nothing moved.
Even after everything settled, the damage told its own story.
Broken trees were piled over each other in a messy heap. Thick trunks snapped in half. Branches twisted and scattered everywhere. Bits of earth were torn open, and even small creatures had been caught in it, crushed or thrown aside without a chance.
All of it…
From one attack.
Just one.
The Anakim didn't need a second.
For a few seconds, nothing moved. No one spoke. The forest, once loud and alive, stayed quiet like it was holding its breath.
"mhre…!"
A low, painful sound broke through.
It came again. Weak. Strained.
Something shifted inside the pile.
Wood creaked as a few broken branches lifted slightly, then dropped. Not enough strength. Not yet.
Then again.
This time, a bit more force.
Slowly, piece by piece, something underneath began pushing up. It wasn't fast. It wasn't clean. It was the kind of movement that came from pure effort, not strength.
Then a figure rose.
Unsteady. Shaking. Standing.
At first, it didn't even look human.
Its body was large, but shrinking. The golden surface that once looked like a mix of feathers and fur began to fade, pulling back, dissolving. The wings were gone. The beast shape collapsed inward, returning to something smaller, weaker, more fragile.
It was return to a Human, to Zephyr.
He stood there, hunched forward at first, breathing hard. His body trembled as the transformation continued to break apart. The last traces of the Griffin form peeled away from him like it had never belonged.
His skin returned to its pale human tone.
His body was bare, covered in scratches, bruises, and streaks of blood. Some fresh. Some already drying. It was clear he hadn't come out clean.
Still…
He stood.
For a moment, it almost looked like he had escaped with just exhaustion. As he had somehow taken the hit and walked it off.
But that illusion didn't last.
As the transformation fully ended, the truth showed itself.
His legs were the last to revert. They shifted slowly, painfully, until they finally returned to normal. And when they did, his stance faltered slightly, like his body was only barely holding itself together.
The moment his legs fully turned human, everything changed.
The numbness vanished.
Pain rushed in.
"Ahhr!"
It wasn't a grunt this time. It tore out of him, sharp and loud. His body gave out and he dropped back, only then realizing what had been hidden from him the whole time.
His legs.
They were still trapped.
Thick, broken trunks had fallen over them, pressing down hard, locking them in place. The wood creaked under its own weight, threatening to crush even further with the slightest movement.
Before, he hadn't felt it.
The transformation had dulled it. The beast form. The ring. The strength.
Now?
All of it was gone.
No transformation.
No extra strength.
No qi.
Just him.
And pain.
"Ahr…!"
He tried to pull free.
The moment he moved, the trees shifted slightly and pressed down harder. The weight settled deeper onto his legs, squeezing, grinding.
His body shook.
Every small movement sent another wave of pain through him, sharper than the last.
[Your health is running and approaching critically low. Do you want to exit the tournament]
[Yes/No]
The prompt appeared clean and cold, like it didn't care what state he was in.
"No… No… no, you're fucking psycho!" Zephyr snapped, the words slipping out without thought.
His voice was rough, half pain, half anger.
But shouting didn't change anything.
The pressure on his legs didn't ease.
The pain didn't stop.
And then—
It got worse.
The air shifted.
A heavy presence pressed down around him, sudden and suffocating. The space itself felt thicker, heavier, like something massive had stepped into range.
The weight increased.
Not just on his legs.
On his entire body.
Zephyr froze.
His breathing hitched as the pressure pinned him down even more. Moving was already hard before. Now it felt impossible.
But strangely…
The pain faded into the background.
Not gone.
Just… no longer the focus.
Because he knew this feeling.
He recognized it.
Slowly, with effort, Zephyr lifted his head.
His eyes locked onto the source of that pressure.
And just like that…
He understood exactly what had found him again.
High above, cutting through the air in a single, powerful leap, the Anakim descended.
He dropped fast.
Too fast for something that large.
But when he landed, there was no explosion of force. No shockwave. No tremor. The moment his feet touched the ground, the fall softened unnaturally, like the weight had been absorbed before it could break anything.
His gravity.
Controlled.
Even so, the pressure around him stayed heavy. It pressed into the ground, into the broken trees, into everything within range.
Zephyr didn't move.
Not a single inch.
He stayed exactly where he was, body still, breathing shallow, eyes fixed on the towering figure ahead.
'I… I hope he doesn't notice me,' he thought, forcing even his instincts to stay quiet.
Right now, survival wasn't about fighting.
It was about not existing.
For a moment, luck stayed on his side.
The Anakim didn't look his way.
Instead, he stretched out his hand toward his spear.
It stood where it had landed, buried deep into the ground. The earth around it was torn apart, cracked open like something had punched through from the sky. The angle it sat at made it look even worse, tilted, half-sunken, like a marker of destruction.
The Anakim grabbed it.
The spear came free from the earth with ease, dragging loose chunks of soil and stone along with it. The hole left behind was massive, wide enough to swallow a large vehicle whole, and deep enough that darkness swallowed the bottom.
Smoke curled up from inside it, thin but constant, like the ground itself hadn't settled yet.
He spun the spear once.
Just once.
But that was enough.
The air roared.
A sharp gust burst out from the movement, strong enough to push aside broken branches and shift parts of the piled-up trees. Leaves and dust scattered again, caught in the sudden wind.
Then he stopped.
And slammed the base of the spear into the ground.
Boom!
The sound was heavy. Not loud in a sharp way, but deep, like something had pressed down on the world itself.
The gravity increased.
Again.
Everything sank a little more.
The broken trees settled deeper. The ground creaked. Even the air felt thicker.
Zephyr felt it.
But he didn't move.
Didn't dare.
The Anakim stood still after that, his attention shifting forward, locked onto something else entirely.
Not Zephyr.
Something ahead.
Movement. From the hole. Slow but steady.
A figure stepped out.
Rhyssa.
Her armor was damaged, badly. Cracks spread across the surface like broken glass. The glow that once ran through it was gone, leaving it dull and lifeless in places.
But she walked.
Unaffected in the way that mattered.
Alive.
She had taken that hit.
And still came out of it.