Raven stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the empty space where the cloaked man had vanished. The man’s concealment of energy was so refined and deliberate that it left him breathless.

  He exhaled shakily. “Who the hell was that?”

  The ground beneath him trembled faintly, an aftershock from Rhodes’ outburst. The once-dense forest now lay in ruins: trees splintered, soil upheaved, and the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of mana discharge. Somewhere in that chaos, his companions were either buried or barely clinging to life.

  He tightened his grip on his sword. I can’t stop now.

  A low groaning of stone caught his attention. From the crater’s edge, the golem Gerald had piloted earlier rose unsteadily, its left arm shattered, its chest cavity flickering with faint light.

  “It’s the leader of those weird elves,” Raven muttered, staring at the wounded human. “Figures I’d have to meet one of them.”

  The golem’s front cracked open, and Gerald stumbled out, coughing and clutching his shoulder. His armor was scorched, but his eyes still burned with stubborn defiance. When he noticed Raven, his brow furrowed.

  “The stickman’s unscathed? How’d he pull that off?” Gerald muttered, surprised.

  “Hey, stickman!” he called out. “Let’s put our differences aside and beat that monster!”

  Raven was startled at first, but the surprise quickly turned into a frown. He knew well enough that Rhodes’ rampage had started because of them.

  Mystic Beasts and Megafauna were notoriously territorial; they often fought others to expand their domains. Rhodes must have sensed intruders in her territory and gone to investigate, only to encounter the “weird elves.” When they defeated her, she went on a rampage to grow stronger and take revenge. That rampage led her to Jake’s party. Now that she had gathered enough strength, she had come back to finish what she started.

  Raven clenched his fists, fury tightening his jaw. Before he could respond, the ground shook again. A monstrous roar echoed from the crater. Rhodes snarled, her massive body steaming violently, the purple glow of her tattoos pulsing erratically. Her breaths came ragged and hot with rage.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Damn it… she’s regenerating,” Gerald muttered. “That pulse drained half the forest, and she’s still not done.”

  Raven’s eyes narrowed. “This is your damned people’s fault. Tch. I guess we end it before she recovers.”

  Raven moved. Gerald could only watch, still wondering how the stickman had survived unscathed. Even with the protection of his golem and armor, he himself had been wounded.

  “How do you plan to end it?” Gerald called. “You’ll get yourself killed if you go solo!”

  But Raven didn’t answer. The cloaked man’s words echoed in his mind: Try attacking visible holes… if you can reach them.

  He scanned Rhodes carefully. The purple markings along her chest and shoulders flickered in rhythm with her breathing. Then he saw it, a faint gap, a small patch of dim light beneath her ribs where the glow faltered.

  “There.”

  Raven raised his sword, mana flaring through his veins and igniting crimson flames along the blade. His aura distorted the air around him.

  “I thought the ‘visible holes’ the man mentioned were the ones on her head,” he murmured, “but it’s the wound Wolfton, that weird elf, and I inflicted earlier. This should be easy.”

  He directed mana to his feet; the ground cracked beneath him. He leapt explosively, moving at supernormal speed. Gerald could only gape as the stickman became a red blur.

  From the crater, Rhodes spotted the blur racing toward her. She roared, swung her massive arm, and gouged deep trenches into the ground, but her target was gone.

  Raven had sunk into his shadows and reappeared at her blind spot —her back. Without slowing, he charged toward her chest.

  Raaawr!

  Rhodes whipped her tail around, lashing at him, but Raven kept diving and resurfacing from his shadows to avoid the hits. Finally, he reached the open crack beneath her ribs.

  He steadied his breath, focusing.

  “First stance: Crescent Strike!”

  His crimson sword flared. But just as he swung, Rhodes intercepted, her arm swiping across in a blur.

  Raven dodged at the last second; his strike went wide. He lost his balance midair, and Rhodes opened her jaws, ready to bite down.

  A sudden gust of wind swept him away from her maw. Instead of crashing to the ground, the wind balanced his body and hurled him back toward the wound.

  Raven glanced sideways and saw Helga clutching her staff, bloodied, trembling, but still fighting. Beside her stood Tiana, surprisingly unharmed yet shaking with anxiety. Wolfton, wounded but glowing with a fiery orange aura, stood protectively beside them. Helga and Tiana shared his glow.

  Raven smirked faintly.

  Without wasting another breath, he adjusted his stance and lunged for the gap.

  “First stance: Crescent Strike!”

  His blade struck true, dead center on the dim patch beneath her ribs. The force cleaved through the corrupted flesh, a blinding crimson arc erupting from the wound.

  Rhodes let out a deafening scream. The glow of her markings flickered wildly, unstable and chaotic. She stumbled backward into the crater, the light in her eyes dimming.

  The explosion that followed wasn’t as wide as before, but the burst of energy still threw Raven across the field. He crashed into the dirt hard, his vision swimming.

  As darkness crept into his sight, his body began to glow faintly orange. A familiar system prompt appeared before his fading eyes.

  “Wolfton…” he muttered weakly.

  Not far away, Gerald stood frozen, staring in

  disbelief. Then he muttered under his breath:

  “Stickmen really are battle maniacs…”