The night sky envies the beauty of the stars and devours their lights one after another. Without the silver glow of moonlight, darkness also threatens to consume me. Tall trees like towers stretch out before the face of the gloom, their dense canopies blocking the impact of lightning and muffling the roar of thunder.

  Cold. I can see my breath. I intensify my vision and notice the flowers and fungi that glow iridescent on the uneven terrain. The natural glow of the fairy world is confused with the supernatural, aura flows through everything that resides in it.

  But all the lights went out, reduced to mere sparks.

  A presence. In the midst of blindness, something is watching me. I feel your sis, trying to hide from me. She is the one who conjures the ritual that will take away all our senses when it is finished.

  Wet steps. Moisture forms in rain droplets as a result of the storm to the West. The strength of the spell increases, and I use mine to counter the illusion. If it were not for my eye manifestation, I would already be blind.

  “Morgana is taking care of the friend you tried to hide. If you surrender, I can convince you to have mercy.”

  I watch the silent surroundings.

  “It's better to be quick. She doesn't care as much as I do.”

  A voice creeps up my back, then down my left. Shrill, high-pitched, something between a woman's voice and a dog's growl. She floats through the woods, surrounding me.

  “Y-You k-killed him.” She says. “M-my A-A-Aldwyn… You…”

  “… How do you know that name?”

  A laugh.

  Sis.

  I fall into my shadow and am transported to a nearby tree, then advance against the creature that cuts the wind. I cast aura in my hand, the red illuminates the surroundings and takes the shape of a blade. Tear horizontally, but nothing is hit.

  I frown.

  An illusion?

  No, I would have understood.

  I look at the floor. Below my foot, a mushroom releases spores into the air. I cough and recoil. All around me, flowers and vegetables that I once thought were harmless turn against me, putrid and corrupted by the witch's spells.

  Something is spreading inside my body, growing. Roots, mushrooms, vines.

  No.

  It is impossible for her to beat me in a tug of war within my own body. There is nothing growing in my stomach, but in my brain. The spore toxin spreads, without needing magic to cause hallucinations. My vision blurs. Figures run out of the corner of my eyes.

  I raise a shield of aura, black petals rise to defend me from an attack that never comes. My mana reading gets distorted. One witch becomes three, which becomes ten. They hide in the woods now lilac, then red, then blue.

  The poison camouflages itself in the Green of the forest and flies through the air, carried by the current like pollen. My nose burns, and then bleeds. I can not fight the effect of the toxin, only with intensification. The forest seems to stretch infinitely upwards, the terrain coalesces and makes the madness of the fairy world's greatest weapon.

  Tinnitus spreads through my ears, then stops.

  I spin on my own axis and move the aura shield to defend myself at the last second. The attack throws me against half a dozen trees, a trail of death and destruction streaks through the wind-torn forest. The shield that surrounds me shatters as I save my back from being broken on impact against a rock. The ground shakes beneath my feet, but I can't hear it.

  I'm deaf.

  I cough.

  Using illusion and my technical proficiency to counter the darkness that blinds me. Defending my brain with intensification, preventing the toxin from uprooting other senses. Deaf, weak and feverish.

  Aura leaks from the pores of my skin, red. Chaos distorts the environment. The air warms up. Green spores clump together and serve as food for warmth, black flowers cling to my body to protect me.

  “Don't run.”

  The witch moves forward, crossing a hundred meters in a single second, her aura multiplies tens of times and becomes untraceable. I can't tell which one is the real one, or the intent of his attack. Trapped away from my bodily senses, I decide to target something close to me:

  My own body.

  “Immolate.”

  The world seems to freeze the minute we see each other, but everything is forgotten the next. A column of fire explodes and consumes the area destroyed by the wind; it advances in waves, looming over the forest, and narrowly misses burning kilometers. The red consumes the atmosphere and outshines the brightness of the stars, the black flowers that surround my body peel off one by one until they give way.

  There is no smoke, no consequence. The darkness swallows orange-white as soon as the spell loses its strength.

  A laugh. Not the witch.

  The woman leans to the ground, shaking and tangled in her black, parched hair. Its teeth are yellow and rotten, its skin is gray and scaly like that of a fish. Blood marks spread, embedded in the flesh to increase its emission. Most importantly, she bleeds, burned by magic.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The witch stares at me, her teeth chattering in hatred. She screams, even though she knows I can't hear her.

  No. Something's up. Chaos affects it, deconstructing part of its power. Even a little, I can hear if I concentrate. I wish I couldn't.

  I slap my shoulders. “It was my first time blowing myself up. Good to know it works.”I breathe in. “It makes me tired, you know? I feel soft. I'm in a cold sweat. Or maybe it's part of the fever. Anyway, you must be pretty weak too, right?”

  “YOU KILLED HIM!” The shrill voice spreads and commands the world around it. Mushrooms grow around and react to heat.

  I cannot be transported by what does not exist. Therefore, I am unable to use the darkness created by the witch's illusion. The torrents of flames lit up the surrounding forest enough that I could see the shadows for real.

  Not only that, but the explosion injured her and spent her mana. My reservation remains full. I can fight the toxin. With these eyes, at least a little, I can see its true location.

  “You told me not to run. Come on, then.”

  But she doesn't react. His hand is still pointed at me, ready to conjure, but with no intention of doing so. It's subtle. I can see in the trembling of his hand, in the hesitation of the look, more horrendous than any troll.

  “Ah. There you go. You're scared.”

  “…!”

  In my dreams, demons chased me through the forest while shouting my name. Against Aldwyn, the forest itself was my enemy. Even with fear, my only option was to give in to the desire to kill and fight. So I did it. Again and again.

  It was when I learned that the Demon King is scarier than any coward who hides in the dark that I stopped caring.

  “Run.”

  I step forward.

  The witch retreats.

  She uses her twisted limbs to run into the woods, singing through her despair about her macabre rites. The vines become my enemy, but they are unable to catch me. Yellow spores pulsate like air cannons. I intensify speed and throw myself backwards, create red aura platforms to sustain my steps and jump up, then take a breath of air with my own.

  Why run?

  My voice echoes through the woods as I circle it.

  You weren't there, were you?

  I ionize the air, concentrated gases expand into plasma. Red projectiles tear through the wind and explode like cannonballs, pierce the defenses of the witch, who runs for her life.

  You weren't there for him when I burned his flesh. You weren't there when I froze him.

  Heat and light form around me, small spheres into small suns. I manipulate the wind and feed the spheres with the spores of the environment. The temperature makes the ambient moisture evaporate, mist spreads and replaces the green toxin. The darkness of illusion does not exist outside my mind, but by increasing the amount of natural shadows with the light of the flames, I can move freely.

  You know what I did to him?

  Red eyes traverse the multitude of glints that stretch before the horizon at the speed of an arrow. I feel my brain pulse as it tries to process all the sensations and understand the lack of the others.

  It's not important.

  I devoured him. Organ by organ.

  I burn a monster made by vines and propel myself to the other side, ionize the gas in the air and launch red plasma against the soil that roars as it becomes water and dust. The effect of chaos spreads, the already imaginary dimension is distorted. Trees melt into each other as my footsteps send waves of mana across the ground, the night sky shattering with each spell. I can't set the whole forest on fire, but I hope the fairies have no problem making it even crazier.

  He tore off my arm. I took what he took from me.

  I set sail behind a tree.

  I can see you.

  I grab the woman by her long, parched hair so hard I make her head bleed; I put the weight of my body on the trunk, turn my body and smash his head against the cold rock. A wet noise invades the threshold of my hearing. With them, a cry of pain.

  They had no mercy on me. It's funny when they find out I can do the same.

  I punch his face against the floor and feel his chin snap against my fist. My hearing returns. I hit his jaw with my knee and break it. The taste of blood spreads across my tongue.

  “Get out!”

  The inhuman scream echoes through the air, as deformed as the woman's jaw. The ground trembles, blood flies from her head, the wind obeys her and drags me.

  But it's not enough.

  I fix my feet on the ground. His spell is counter-attacked by mine, gusts of wind collide with enough pressure to crush a stone wall.

  Chaos contaminates it. Its power dilutes. Slowly, the Witch is pressed against the stone, her angry cries become pleas for help.

  One step. Two. Three. I get closer through your spell. I push against the pressure, my body presses the power next to the spell. Four. Five.

  I face her. Ruddy eyes defile her mind with the previous existence of the one who once swore to make the corrupt world in his image.

  Six. Seven. Eight. Finally,

  Pop.

  The spell fails, and the witch's body explodes against the pressure. Some organs fly away, others are sunk into the stone. The remains fall to the ground, with empty eyes. The tinnitus fades, my senses return. Without magical intensification, the natural toxin is the only one left, easily overcome by intensification. Night becomes day, and the rays of light pass through the canopies and illuminate my body.

  Victory.

  I open and close my hands, watching the woman's corpse.

  Adrenaline stops. I inhale, my body cools.

  The corpse of a woman.

  She was human, wasn't she? As bad as she was, still human, still conscious like me. I shouldn't feel good about killing her. It is a death, even if by self-defense. I should feel bad.

  “…”

  But I don't feel it. I couldn't feel myself, even if I wanted to. A cultist who sacrificed her victims for Aldwyn dies in an attack. If I didn't hold back, I'd be laughing. The fact is that he deserved a much worse death, and that justice well executed is a cause for joy.

  “…”

  That's not why I don't feel anything. It is not the reason I rejoice, much less the reason I am shocked by my apathy. But just as I do with the other monsters, I will let the excuse serve as justification for now; and I will follow Hoffstein's advice not to take the rest seriously.

  Something's missing.

  “… Ah. The group.”

  I should go to them. I speed up and set sail for the destroyed place, afraid I've attracted some unwanted attention.

  Through destruction, I capture your manas. Cloud finishes Verg off with a blow that goes through his neck, Nia rests while leaning against a rock.

  No sign of the other Elf, and no sign of Wander.

  I land next to the group and see the light go away from the Archer's eyes. Morgana lays flat behind the foot of the mountain and carries the discordant witch on her shoulder.

  Approaching, the fairy throws the woman at my feet.

  “… You brought her alive?” I say.

  “I thought you'd like to question her.”

  “Firebol”.”I conjure and throw a sphere of heat through the witch's head. She dies.

  Morgana stares at me, but says nothing.

  “Where is Wander?”

  Cloud turns to me, taking a deep breath. “You took too long!"He staggers, then leans on a stone and inspires not to fall. “What I was doing...?!”

  “Where?”

  “And...” Nia breathes “He separated the other guard from us. They got lost in the forest...”

  “...It's fine. Morgana will protect you both until you reach Vanusia. Hoffstein should be finishing his fight by now. I'll find Wander.”

  The fairy approaches, runs her cold fingers across my face, grabs my cheek and stares at me with a sharp look.

  “...Be careful.” She says, restraining herself so as not to tear off my skin.

  Having to use her power and take over the group must have frustrated her. Just like my decision to go to Solace, or our detour to Vanusia, or all the other choices I've made.

  I breathe in. “Thank you. I will.”

  The fairy settles. She faces the other two adventurers. “Come on. I'm not carrying you.”

  While they complain of their exhaustion, I propel myself to the other side, towards the foot of the mountain, and land in the forest that stretches uphill.

  A signal at the limit of what I can pick up. Weak, still and dying.

  Among the two elves, only one survived.