The momentary silence of my thoughts was gone. The creature, which had been in the air, fell with a dry thud and howled in pain. A pure, desperate call cut through the dust haze.

  "Mio!"

  Did those blue fragments... Did Katia’s arrow collide with one of the creature’s shots? — My memories blurred from the previous seconds.

  Katia descended from the elevation where she was, sliding down the stone pillar toward my direction.

  "Are you okay?" Her voice came out hoarse, almost broken, laden with an urgency that made me stop a few steps from her.

  "Yes." I turned my eyes to the creature, which was howling on the ground. "We can't stay here, we need to go back immediately."

  Elian emerged from the haze to our right, sword in hand, uniform torn and stained. Descending from the same platform as Katia, he stopped abruptly a few meters away, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. For an instant that seemed to stretch, he simply stood there, sword lowered, as if seeing something beyond what was before his eyes.

  Then he moved, determined, taking a firm step toward the writhing creature.

  My arm reacted before his movement was complete. My hand closed around his wrist, holding it with a force that stopped him mid-motion.

  "No."

  He turned to me, eyebrows furrowed. "It's half-dead. If we attack now, together, we can end this."

  "The flesh around the neck is hard," I retorted, keeping my voice low but clear. "And we have no guarantee it can't shoot again. One last desperate strike is all it needs."

  Elian opened his mouth to protest, but then his eyes fixed on my face. His expression changed—determination gave way to genuine confusion. Beside me, Katia also stopped, her lavender eyes widening.

  "You..." Elian's voice came out oddly restrained. "Were you hit in the head?"

  "No," I replied, confused by the question.

  "Your nose is bleeding," Katia interrupted, her tone a mix of concern and alarm.

  I brought a hand to my nose and wiped the blood with the back of my hand, feeling the warm moisture against my skin. Is this a result of being hit in the ribs and slamming hard into the wall? The thought came quickly, followed by a more troubling doubt: Then why only now, so late?

  That shouldn't be the focus right now. — "Let's go back, now."

  Elian still hesitated, his gaze alternating between the writhing creature and my face. "That thing is vulnerable. It's the moment to attack."

  He won't give up that easily. Maybe I should… — It was Katia who interrupted, her voice more controlled than before, but with a seriousness that brooked no argument:

  "Elian, I understand what you're suggesting, but she was holding that thing off alone. If she's saying to retreat, she surely has a reason." Her lavender eyes fixed on him, intense. "And you saw that final attack. If we attack and fail, and that thing reaches the group... you already know the outcome, right?"

  Elian seemed to swallow dryly, his fist clenched around his sword trembling slightly. He looked at the creature still writhing in the rubble, then at the path leading back to the group.

  "Alright. We will go back." His voice was resigned but firm. "Do you have any suggestions on where to go now? Any route, any idea?"

  "Nothing concrete," I replied, already moving toward the path we had come from. The pain in my ribs persisted, but I ignored it. "But we can discuss it as we head back. Every second we stay here is another risk."

  We began to move away, our quick steps echoing on the damp stone. The haze still hung, but the path back to the main square was etched in my memory.

  It was then that Elian stopped for a fraction of a second. He turned his head to me, opened his mouth as if to say something—but then closed it again, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

  "Forget it," he murmured, more to himself than to us. "This isn't the time for that."

  We began to move at an accelerated pace. Some ideas began to take shape during the walk.

  "When we get to the group," I said, lowering my voice while keeping pace, "I think the best is to split into one smaller group. Go back the way we came and try to locate another exit. Staying put in that square makes us easy targets."

  Elian shot me a glance, his expression worried.

  "Split the group? Wouldn't that be too dangerous for those exploring?" he questioned. "No It makes sense, if it's to avoid fights and focus on finding the exit. You can count on me for the exploration group," he said, but a wrinkle of concern appeared on his forehead. "But I'm worried about the group that will be waiting. If that thing or others show up..."

  "I'll stay with the waiting group," Katia said, her voice decided. "It's better if you and Mio go together to look for the exit."

  My stride faltered for a moment. Maybe I won't be able to concentrate leaving Katia behind.

  Katia seemed to read my thoughts from my faltering stride.

  "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I want to ensure the rest of the group stays together. Besides, we can ask Elian to block the entrance; when you come back, we just need to undo the wall."

  "By the way... why didn't you want to let me land the final blow?" Elian's voice wasn't accusatory, but genuinely curious. "The reward of finishing it off was worth the risk, wasn't it? Eliminating the biggest threat at once."

  "Certainly, if we had managed to eliminate it, one of our biggest problems would now be gone." — The ceiling of the chamber indicated we were approaching the group.

  "Then why?"

  "I believe it had some level of intelligence, or something close to it," I explained, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. "At some point, it started copying and adapting my movements against me."

  Elian slowed his pace for an instant, looking at me. "What do you mean?"

  "That final attack, in the air. It was right after I executed an aerial maneuver to reach a higher position. And the ranged projectiles started exactly after I threw a bone fragment at it."

  As we ran, Katia and Elian exchanged glances for a moment.

  "It makes sense not to attack," Katia said, her tone now more reflective. "Intelligent monsters aren't exactly new; I've heard stories about them. But one that regenerates like that..."

  The entrance to the main square opened before us. The bluish light was more intense here, revealing the familiar shape of the stone platform at the center.

  "And the rest of the group?" I asked, my eyes scanning the area for movement.

  Elian and Katia exchanged a quick glance before answering in unison, with a strange synchrony:

  "You'd better see for yourself."

  I took the last few steps and stopped at the edge of the square.

  The air left my lungs.

  The scene was not the same we had left. On the chamber's ceiling, above the platform where the group should have been protected, there was a huge fissure—not a natural crack, but something that seemed to have been torn out by force, as if a gigantic stone had been violently removed. The edges of the opening were irregular and sharp, and from it seeped a faint light different from the blue glow of the fungi, perhaps coming from an upper layer.

  A pile of corpses—of the lean, burnt monsters—was scattered in grotesque positions, crushed, flattened as if a colossal weight had fallen on them. Among the bodies, enormous stones, some the size of a person, were scattered across the ground, as if thrown with unimaginable force.

  There stood a small structure resembling a platform, encircled by a wall of stone.

  "What…" my voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "did you do?"

  From within the stone circle of the platform, a figure moved. Hadrian appeared from behind one of the low walls. As his gaze swept over me, his expression changed for an instant—a flash of surprise, perhaps, but he quickly recomposed himself.

  "The number of monsters has dropped," he replied, his voice practical, almost professional. "But it's not safe yet. Some retreated, others were left… well, you can see." He made a vague gesture toward the crushed bodies. "What do we do now?"

  Elian stepped forward, assuming a natural command posture.

  "I'll gather the group and explain the plan," he said, looking at Hadrian. "We need everyone on board and alert. Can you help me organize them?"

  Hadrian nodded, a short, efficient movement.

  "Of course. Most are shaken but intact. Pedro's leg is still immobilized, but now he's conscious." He cast another look at me, this time more lingering. "And you three? Can you fight if needed?"

  The question hung in the air for a tense moment. I felt the weight of Katia and Elian's gazes turning to me.

  "I'm fine," I replied, keeping my posture firm.

  Their concern is understandable, given the situation. — "If necessary, I can stay at the back of the formation and rest while we move, but I'm ready to fight."

  Katia let out a sigh that seemed to carry half the tension in the chamber.

  "That's probably best," she agreed, her tone a mix of relief and pragmatism. "But you tell us if you feel anything strange."

  Satisfied—or at least willing to accept that answer—Elian and Hadrian exchanged a last glance before turning and heading toward the platform where the rest of the group was huddled. Their low voices began to echo, calling for attention, organizing the frightened students.

  "Katia, if we manage to form an exploration group, I think it's better if the two of us form the vanguard."

  "We've trained together," I continued. "We already know the basic protocols, how to cover each other, and communicate without words in certain situations. And… you did well not to follow me toward the monster. It was the right decision."

  Katia seemed to ponder for a moment, her eyes scanning my face as if searching for any hesitation.

  "It's a solid idea," she admitted, finally. "But in case of a direct attack… I'm reluctant to leave the main group without the two of us. And speaking of that…" She paused, her tone growing more serious. "If we find that thing again, do you think we could defeat it?"

  "No. The problem is that no one here has enough firepower to inflict a grave enough wound to kill. And on top of that, there’s regeneration." I made a brief pause, considering. "It must have some limit or some cost. Otherwise, it would have followed us here already."

  "We managed to drop a huge stone on that group of smaller monsters. It was with Lira's help," she explained, a touch of pride in her voice. "If we could do the same to the larger creature… do you think it wouldn't work?"

  "A stone? That explains why the chamber is completely destroyed."

  "It made a loud noise, you didn't hear it?"

  "Noise? No. Anyway, it's too fast for that," I replied, shaking my head. "And it learns. If we try an obvious tactic like that, it will be anticipated." I changed the subject, a secondary concern arising in my thoughts. "Speaking of her… how is Lira? I threw her with quite some force."

  "Lira is fine," Katia answered, a slight smile touching her lips. "And it was mostly because of her that we managed to eliminate most of the monsters. Her wind magic… was a big help."

  I was thoughtful for a moment. "During the exam, she could barely manifest her affinity. It's a surprise she can use magic on such a scale now."

  "Yeah," Katia agreed, her tone becoming more strategic. "Do you think we can formulate some strategy around that? Something that uses her ability in another way?"

  "It's unlikely," I admitted, but didn't completely discard it. "At least, nothing we can plan in such little time. But… I'll think about it. Maybe there's an angle."

  Our discussion was cut off by Elian's voice, firm and clear, coming from the platform:

  "Mio! Katia! Come here, please. The group is gathered."

  He was standing beside Hadrian, with the rest of the students forming a semicircle around him.

  "The plan is as follows," he began, his gaze sweeping over each face in the semicircle. "We'll split into two groups. An exploration group, smaller and more agile, will retrace our path back and try to locate another exit. The other group will stay here, in a defensive position, keeping this place as safe as possible. The objective is to avoid confrontations and find a route upward."

  The students listened, most nodding in silence, accepting the logic. But then Dennar raised his hand, his expression worried.

  "And if the exploration group can't find an exit?" he questioned, his voice echoing slightly in the silent chamber. "What do we do then? Come back here and wait until… until what, exactly?"

  Elian didn't hesitate.

  "That possibility exists," he admitted, his tone serious but not hopeless. "But staying put here, waiting for that creature to fully recover and find us again, is not an option."

  It was then that Pedro, still seated with his immobilized leg propped against the stone wall, raised his voice.

  "Two more things," he said, panting but determined. "First: what if Professor Varis finds us? If we're separated, how will she know where everyone is? And second…" He paused, swallowing dryly. "How do we not get completely lost in these ruins? We don't know their extent, nor what else might be hidden here."

  "We'll use earth magic to mark the path," I said, stepping forward. "Small alterations in the terrain, on the walls. An arrow, a carving. Something we can follow back and that, if Professor Varis finds the larger group, she just needs to follow the trail to us."

  I saw Elian nodding in silent agreement beside me.

  "It's a good plan," Dennar murmured, more to himself, but several other students nodded, a sense of clear direction seeming to solidify among them. "We just need to decide who stays."

  "Yes, but we can do that once we're safe," Elian concluded, taking command again. "Let's get ready."

  The semicircle began to dissolve into contained movement. Katia approached, her steps silent on the stone. Before she could speak, I asked:

  "Are you coming with us on the exploration?"

  She made a thoughtful expression, her lavender eyes observing the group organizing itself.

  "I don't know," she admitted, lowering her voice. "When Dennar said 'we just need to decide who stays'… I realized some students won't agree to send me to the front line of the exploration group."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "I understand." I said, lowering my head "Since Elian will come with me, they want a guarantee of protection."

  She nodded, a small gesture, and together we began moving toward the dark entrance of the tunnel—the same narrow, damp passage through which we had arrived at this devastated chamber.

  While the rest of the group began to organize and enter the tunnel, Elian and Hadrian stayed behind, lingering at the entrance like sentinels. Hadrian, with his hands already shimmering with a soft earthen light, ready to start marking the path. Elian, standing firm, his sword lowered but alert, watching each student pass.

  When the last of them disappeared into the tunnel's darkness, Hadrian cast a last look at the three of us, lingering a bit longer on me.

  "Phoenicis." Hadrian's voice made me stop mid-motion. He was still at the entrance, his face partially illuminated by the earthen light in his hands. "Don't you want to trade places with me? Regarding the exploration group? You must be exhausted after that fight. You should stay with the larger group, recover."

  Elian turned, a wrinkle of impatience on his forehead.

  "Hadrian, it's not the time. We can discuss divisions after we're all moving. Every second—"

  "Elian..."

  I didn't let him finish. My hand closed around Katia's uniform. A quick, firm pull, and I yanked her back, away from the entrance.

  "Get away from the entrance," I ordered, my voice leaving no room for discussion.

  Elian reacted at the same moment. His arm extended, pushing Hadrian—who was still half his body in the entrance—into the darkness of the tunnel, with enough force to make the boy stumble and fall backward.

  And then the wall exploded.

  The wall above the entrance collapsed with a roar of shattered stone, completely sealing the passage with an avalanche of rubble. Dust rose like a thick curtain, but through it, the creature's silhouette was unmistakable.

  It might have closed the path on purpose.

  Elian took a firm step forward, his sword rising, the muscles in his arms tensing for the attack.

  I extended an arm to block his path. "Wait."

  "Do you have a plan?" he asked, skepticism and urgency fighting in his tone.

  "Its legs," I said, my eyes straining to see through the brown haze. "They're not completely regenerated. It's leaning more on the right side. Depending on what we do, we might have a chance."

  "How do you know, in all this dust?" Elian questioned, but his posture was already less offensive and more expectant.

  Beside me, Katia raised her bow. The subtle sound of ice crystallizing in the air was a familiar melody in the chaos.

  "The objective is elimination?" she asked, her voice low and focused, her eyes already calculating the distance through the dust.

  "No," I answered quickly. "Injuries can be prevented from regenerating if something stops the flesh from closing. Katia, aim for the eyes. Elian, wait for the right opening. Don't aim for the neck, try to tear off the lower limbs, as many as possible."

  The dust is settling, any direction results in a direct shot. To our right, there are houses for cover.

  "Katia, shoot an arrow into the ground, there." I quickly pointed to a spot on the stone, about three meters to the left of the creature's position.

  Without questioning or hesitating. The sound of the released bowstring was a cold, precise snap. The ice arrow flew, embedding itself in the indicated stone with a crystalline impact that echoed in the chamber.

  It was the distraction I needed. That single second when the creature's eyes blinked toward the sound and Katia's movement.

  I dashed to the right of the chamber, seeking semi-structural cover. I felt the air change behind me, a sudden pressure followed by the sharp hiss of the bony projectile being fired.

  Somehow I managed to reach the structure and hide behind one of the walls.

  The accuracy of the shots is now perfect.; in little time it adjusted its aim. It's possible the close-quarters attacks have also changed. It's coming, the arm will pierce the wall in 1.5 seconds.

  The mental count ended the same instant the stone wall to my right shattered. One of the creature's left arms, but now with sharp, irregular tips like stone claws, burst through the masonry as if it were paper.

  A backward rotation that let the claws pass centimeters from my torso. Before I could fully recover my balance. Its right arm, thicker and heavier, came in a horizontal swing that passed just above my head. And then, its mouth opened.

  Seriously? — The thought was followed by the burning sensation scoring my cheek, followed by the warm wetness of blood flowing. From inside its mouth, it had fired a bone fragment that grazed my cheek.

  The neck movement was enough to avoid the worst, but not to completely negate the damage.

  As soon as I regained my balance, the chance came—Ankle grab, not enough foresight for the outcome, but if I delay any longer, there will be no turning back.

  The arm came, low and fast. Instead of retreating, I threw the dagger. It struck the creature’s head with a sharp crack and ricocheted upward. Just a distraction. I stepped onto the arm that was still advancing to grab me, feeling the rough, unstable surface under my boot, and propelled myself forward. As I leapt, I caught the dagger midair, using its misshapen neck as a springboard and projecting myself in a high arc toward the open center of the square.

  The air hissed in my ears. And then, mid-leap, my vision went dark.

  Fatal cut from stomach to neck, zero futures where the strike can be completely avoided.

  The creature spun with a speed that defied its size, its body a whirling mass of flesh and bone. A bony blade it held came toward me.

  I twisted my body on its axis, turning away from the center of my mass. The landing was executed five meters from the creature, one hand going instinctively to the cut.

  Tricks are over; from here on, I'll have to improvise.

  Where 's the angle? — My feet moved silently over the rough stone, circling the periphery of the square like a lavender shadow.

  I slid behind a partially destroyed column. Raised the bow, aligned my breathing. It has its back to me; amidst these structures, there's no way to hit. I just need a pause...

  The creature spun again, its massive body a blur of movement against the blue light of the fungi. One of its hands stretched quickly toward Mio. She retreated, but not enough. The tip of one of the blades seemed to have grazed her uniform on the shoulder, tearing the fabric.

  My fingers trembled, almost firing, and my eyes quickly darted to the blood splattering on the ground.

  Calm down, she's giving me an angle; the jump under the creature was to make it turn this way.

  The breathing aligned. The fingers on the bowstring stopped trembling. I watched, a spectator forced into an audience of horrors, as Mio exchanged a few more quick blows with the creature. A dodge of a grab, a block with the forearm that sounded like cracking wood, a leap backward that avoided a low thrust by centimeters.

  Each of her movements was familiar. Each dodge, each spin, each decision of when to retreat and when to press. And then, like lightning cutting through the fog of memory, I saw myself back in the village.

  Under a cloudy sky. The smell of pine and damp earth, the sound of wolf howls. And Mio, moving the same way. Predictable only in her unpredictability. Creating openings where none seemed to exist.

  In the village, I was the one with the bow. I was the one who stayed back, looking for the angle, waiting for the moment. And she was the one who ran forward, drawing attention, creating the chaos from which I could work.

  Nothing had changed.

  In the square, the creature advanced with a heavy downward strike. Mio didn't retreat. She advanced, closing the distance, passing inside the strike's range before it gained full force. Her body twisted, and for an instant—a single, precious instant—her head completely overlapped the creature's misshapen head in my field of vision.

  The line of fire became clear.

  Two centimeters to the right of the center of her head. — Done.

  As soon as the arrow left the string, Mio's neck moved—a minimal, almost imperceptible tilt that took her head out of the line of fire. The arrow passed where her temple had been an instant before and found its true target.

  The impact was silent and horrifying. The ice arrow embedded itself deep into one of the creature's black "eyes." A roar came from it, purely pain and violence—a sound that made the stone under my feet vibrate.

  In the same instant, the creature raised its body and threw itself down, slamming its entire massive body onto the square's floor. The shockwave raised a curtain of dust and stone fragments.

  Mio wasn't there when the body fell. In the brief moment it hovered over the creature's body, her dagger carved a deep groove into the side of its torso.

  She moved to the creature's left; it will spin again. My next position is the left.

  From the pores of the flesh Mio had just cut. Dozens of small, sharp bones, like needles, exploded in a deadly cone. My feet stopped for a few milliseconds, until Mio emerged from within the dust, untouched.

  She used the blind spot to attack. — A blink was enough for the scene to change completely. Mio was with her dagger embedded in the creature's tongue, who was pushing her backward.

  I stopped at the expected position, with a line of sight to the creature's face. It roared again, against all expected logic for something its size and injuries, it leaped.

  It's now; when it lands on the ground, it will be the most vulnerable moment. — I took a deep breath, the air entering cold and heavy into my lungs. The world reduced to the tense bowstring, the ice arrow ready, and the massive silhouette of the creature beginning its fall.

  It hit the ground with an impact that echoed like a muffled thunderclap, raising more dust. My fingers opened. The arrow flew, but it made a different sound, this time, a harder sound, as if the arrow had collided with metal.

  Another blink.

  Time seemed to have skipped a frame. When my vision recomposed, the positions had completely inverted. Mio was in the air, and the creature was on the ground.

  My line of sight followed from Mio to the creature. I caught a small glimpse—a flash of icy comprehension.

  The creature's head was no longer atop its disproportionate shoulders. It had relocated the head to its back, protected by the thick spine and broad shoulders. The remaining eyes now looked up, fixed on Mio as she descended toward it.

  It repositioned its head on its back to avoid the shot and take away my line of fire. — The world slowed down as I noticed tremors running through the creature's flesh; it was only a matter of time until it fired at Mio, this time, with no basis for dodging or cover.

  No… The most I can do from this angle is hit the nose; I would need a position higher than five meters for this shot. What can I do? The thought spun, desperate, empty. Should I try to curve the arrow? I don't have enough control for that.

  I heard my own heart beating—a rapid, dull drum against my ears. The blue light of the fungi, once so vivid and ghostly, now seemed opaque, faded, as if the color were being sucked from the world along with my hope.

  Another blink.

  She was still hovering in the air, her leap keeping her suspended for that impossible fraction of a second. The tremors in the creature's flesh seemed to gain more strength, and yet, there was something irregular in that scene. Mio and a hand that was open.

  Not clenched or holding her dagger, it was just open. The fingers extended, the palm facing down, in a pose I knew as well as the sound of my own breathing during training.

  My body reacted before my mind could doubt. The feet adjusted, the weight shifted. The bow, already drawn, rose not toward the creature, but at a steep angle, almost vertical.

  I took one last deep breath, the world reducing to the point where the trajectory of my arrow would intercept the arc of Mio's open hand.

  Please, let it reach…

  I watched, paralyzed behind the rubble I used as cover, feeling the helplessness corroding every fiber of my being.

  The creature trembled with accumulated power. Mio, a white, fast blur against the ghostly blue, was trapped in the air, in the wrong place at the worst time. And Katia, distant, her lavender silhouette rigid with her bow raised at an angle that made no sense—not to hit the monster, but toward the sky.

  This shouldn't be possible.

  The thought barely formed when the arrow flew.

  A bolt. A turquoise-blue flash that streaked through the air in a straight, steep line, so fast it seemed to leave a trail of frozen crystals behind it, toward Mio.

  Midway through her seemingly irreversible fall, the hand that had been stretched into emptiness closed. A perfect, smooth, almost gentle capture. Her empty hands found the arrow's shaft the exact moment it arrived, cushioning the impact with a rotation of her wrists that transformed brute force into controlled momentum.

  It was so perfect it seemed choreographed. As if the arrow were an extension of her that was returning home.

  Without losing a microsecond, in the same continuous flow of movement, her body completed the spin. The arm that captured now launched forward, and the arrow—the same arrow—flew from her hands.

  The arrow flew in a descending trajectory, fueled by the weight of her fall and the absolute precision of her throw. This time, its target was clear.

  The creature, distracted by the charging of its own fatal attack, by the sudden movement in the air, didn't even see it coming.

  The ice arrow embedded itself with a dry crack right in the center of the remaining eye it had tried to hide on its back. The impact of the arrow echoed in the silent chamber, but inside my head, the noise was of questions colliding.

  How? How exactly does she plan to dodge the shots the creature will fire? She's mid-air, and the shots will happen everywhere above. Did she jump without intending to dodge? Just to catch the arrow and throw it back? As if that were the plan from the start?

  An intense discomfort, cold as deep water, settled in my chest. Because the thought that came next was worse: I was included in that abominable calculation.

  My hands, almost of their own volition, went to the ground. The palms pressed against the cold, damp stone. The mana, familiar and dense, responded instantly, flowing from my roots into the rock below.

  The stone under my fingers trembled, compacted. A platform. Wide, flat, with irregular edges as if torn from the very ground—because it had been.

  I took a deep breath, feeling the colossal weight of the construct, the cost in mana pulling like a drain at my center. And then, following in Katia's footsteps—the arrow launched into the impossible—I concentrated all my strength.

  With a grunt of effort that tore from my throat, I threw.

  The stone platform lifted from the ground directly into my hands, and from my hands into the air. It was a block of rock flying in a heavy, direct arc, crossing the chamber's distance, straight to the point in space where Mio hovered.

  A volley of bony projectiles was fired from the creature's flesh, smashing against the chamber's vaulted ceiling with a series of dry, cracking snaps. Fragments of stone and dust began to rain.

  Is this the opening she asked us to wait for? — The sword materialized in my hand in a flash of intent. My feet were already moving before the hilt grew cold to the touch.

  I ran toward the writhing mass. The creature roared upon seeing me approach, a sound that transformed into a deep gurgle. Its flesh began to tremble again, no longer to attack the ceiling, but to reorient, to defend itself. A new amber light, weak and irregular, began to pulse in several open wounds.

  I bit my lip until I tasted blood. There's no going back now.

  I accelerated, mana burning in my legs, transforming each step into a burst of pure force. My target wasn't the torso, nor the hidden head. It was the base. The five disproportionate legs that still kept it semi-upright. If I could completely knock it down…

  And then, the impossible materialized beside me.

  Mio emerged from the haze of falling dust and debris as if she had always been there, running in perfect sync with me. There was no signal, no glance. Just the instant understanding that, in this moment, we were a unit. The plan that was never verbalized was in execution.

  The first desperate projectiles came—jagged, irregular bones fired from its open wounds. We dodged without breaking rhythm. I took a step to the left, a spin that let a bone pass centimeters from my chest. She simply tilted her torso to the right, and another whistled over her shoulder.

  We arrived.

  My sword drew a wide, low arc, fueled by all the momentum of my run. The first cut found the joint of the front left leg, cleanly separating it from the pelvis with a wet snap. Without stopping, I used my shoulders to power the second cut into the hind leg on the same side. Two snaps. Two limbs on the ground.

  Mio was a whirlwind of precision beside me. While I dealt with the legs, she focused on the creature's right flank. They weren't killing blows. They were surgical amputations. Her dagger—when had she gotten it back?—cut through the air in short, devastating motions. One, two, three, four… all the arms on the right side, from the thickest to the smallest and most agile, were severed from the torso in a cascade of clean, silent cuts.

  The creature no longer roared. It simply collapsed, its massive body losing all supporting structure at once. It fell on its side with a thud that made the ground tremble, a mountain of mutilated, trembling flesh, unable to rise, unable to grab, almost unable to move.

  We stood over the creature's trembling flesh, panting breaths echoing in the sudden silence. The air still carried dust and the acidic smell of black blood.

  Mio was the first to move. She stepped away from the inert mass, her steps firm on the broken stone, direction clear: Katia, who was still at the periphery of the square, slowly lowering her bow.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice sounding hoarse and strange to my own ears.

  She paused for a moment, without turning completely.

  "I am. But now it's time to prepare to get out of here." Her tone was practical, urgent, as if the battle that had just happened were merely an obstacle overcome on the way to a greater task. She looked toward the chamber's main entrance—or what remained of it: a pile of stones and rubble completely sealing the tunnel through which the main group had fled.

  "Can you undo this cave-in? Open a way back?" she questioned in sequence.

  I followed her gaze. The pile of rubble was considerable, but not insurmountable for my affinity. The problem was stability. Digging carelessly could cause another cave-in, perhaps larger.

  "I can," I replied, feeling the weariness in my bones, the spent mana, but knowing there was no choice. "But it will take time. Elemental deconstruction takes time."

  We began walking toward what remained of the entrance, our steps echoing in the silent chamber, except for the wet, faint sounds coming from the mass of mutilated flesh we had left behind.

  "I don't think it will regenerate that quickly," Mio commented, her voice low but clear. "If it had the capacity to recover instantly, it wouldn't have taken so long to get here after the first time."

  She has a point. The complete regeneration of so many limbs should require colossal energy.

  The creature emitted another sound—a low gurgle, almost a liquid sigh. We ignored it, focusing on the pile of stones before us. Each step brought us closer to the exit, to the reunion with the group, to the possibility of escape from this nightmare chamber.

  I kept walking, until I realized Katia was standing near the entrance.

  "Katia?" I called, but she didn't react.

  Analyzing her posture closely, something seemed off. Despite the victory, her expression seemed downcast. She remained completely immobile. Her bow was lowered, but her posture was rigid, her eyes fixed on the trembling mass of flesh as if seeing a ghost.

  It was then that I turned to the side, to say something to Mio, to share the concern. The space to my right, where she had been walking in sync with me seconds before, was empty.

  A chill took over my body, a sudden cold that had nothing to do with the chamber's temperature.

  The creature wasn't getting up. Its remaining limbs—the few left arms Mio hadn't amputated and a newly regenerated right arm—thrashed slowly. A sphere of black mass began to hover above the creature.

  Against all that, the white figure, small compared to the creature. Lay atop the body, holding a broken dagger, which she had tried to drive into the creature's forehead.

  I was paralyzed, the vision of the dagger breaking repeating in my mind. My own sword, still materialized in my hand, suddenly seemed a ridiculous toy.

  All of this converged into a single thought, a regret if I could call it that:

  I should have landed the final blow.

  A blink was enough to change everything. A part of the chamber's ceiling, right above the creature, was no longer the pale blue of the fungi or the gray of the stone. It was orange. An intense, bright orange that seemed to come from within the rock itself, as if it were beginning to melt, to soften under impossible heat.

  A line descended. It had no color, the sound was fast enough to create only a short buzz in the ear. There was nothing more, that line had swallowed the black sphere, the creature, and Mio.

  Regret and anguish grew. The trauma I carried seemed to grow heavier—where would I find the strength to deal with all of it?