Arin's body fell from the cracked stone.
Whatever had happened was already beyond questioning.
His eyes flickered.
As awareness crept back in—
a fish lay in front of him.
Still alive.
Still struggling.
His body moved before his mind could react.
In a flash, it was gone.
Then another appeared.
And another.
His thoughts did not follow.
His body simply ate.
By the time fullness settled in, his consciousness had returned.
Arin lifted his head.
And froze.
At a distance stood four figures.
The one-eyed serpent stared at him, unblinking.
Behind it lingered the one with bulging veins, its body taut.
Next came the discolored one.
And finally, the wide-jawed serpent.
They were arranged deliberately.
All expressionless.
Arin didn't understand what he was seeing.
"Is this… my ability?" he thought, dismayed.
"No. It's not strong enough."
His brow furrowed.
They were predators.
"System," he asked quietly, "what just happened?"
No response came.
He slithered forward.
They retreated.
"They're afraid of me," he realized.
"But they didn't let me die."
Confusion deepened.
Was it survival?
He had fed them. Sheltered them.
That logic made sense—
but something felt off.
He studied them again.
No.
They weren't intelligent enough for intent.
They weren't sympathetic.
Then was it instinct?
The thought circled uselessly.
After a long moment, he exhaled.
"…What the hell. I don't need to dissect their behavior."
He turned away.
As he moved, his gaze drifted to the pond.
It was empty.
Not a single fish remained.
They had crossed the line he had drawn—
thoroughly.
Something snapped.
Arin shot upright in a sudden burst.
Anger flared through him—hot, sharp, uncontrollable.
—
Elsewhere.
Negi's grip tightened around his spear until his knuckles burned.
He stepped in and thrust.
Gio, on the other hand, was struggling to keep pace with the Horned Gale Bat.
Its movements were too fast—too erratic.
He swung in haste.
Missed.
Claws flashed.
Just inches from his eyes.
Then—
The bat shrieked.
Its body jerked midair, wings spasming as momentum died.
From behind—
Negi's spear had pierced straight through its flank.
The beast convulsed once.
It fell.
The massive body slammed into the stone.
Then—
Gio screamed.
—crack—
The Horned Gale Bat went still.
Its head rolled across the ground, severed by Gio's greatsword.
Both of them stood there, chests heaving.
Breath burned in their lungs.
Negi let out a shaky laugh.
"You nearly lost your head," he said.
Gio wiped blood from his face. "So did you."
Ren pushed himself upright, pain etched deep into his expression.
"The ability it used," he said quietly, "was Gale Reversal."
His gaze swept over them.
"Remember it. Beasts don't fight like humans."
He exhaled slowly.
"We rest. Now."
…
Fire crackled softly.
Ren sat near the flames, carefully applying ointment to his arm. Leia and Sol hovered close, helping where they could.
Gio and Negi remained seated a little apart, silent, eyes fixed on the fire.
The air felt heavy.
"Don't worry," Ren said at last, forcing a faint smile. "It'll take time, but it'll heal."
"Still…" Leia murmured.
Ren's expression hardened.
"There's something else we should be worried about," he said.
The group looked up.
"Beasts like that don't appear this early."
"So?" Gio asked.
Ren hesitated, just for a moment.
"It means one of two things," he said quietly.
"Either there's nothing else alive nearby…"
He paused.
"Or something far stronger forced it to flee."
...
Arin froze.
The pond was dead.
No movement.
No life.
His chest tightened.
There's nothing left.
He knew what that meant.
His gaze drifted through the cavern, lingering on the thick, nourishing qi that clung to the stone like mist.
Leaving this place would be madness.
Staying would be death.
His jaw clenched.
"We can't stay," he said hoarsely.
The words scraped out of him.
His coils trembled, anger surging — sharp, directionless — but there was nowhere to throw it.
Not at the serpents.
Not at the empty pond.
Not even at himself.
Arin lowered his head.
"We move."