The ground trembled.
Not violently, not explosively—but with the subtle, sickening vibration of something trying to escape.
The massive scorpion, its obsidian carapace cracked and leaking viscous green ichor, twisted its segmented body and began sinking. The earth beneath it softened unnaturally, pulled downward as if opening its mouth.
It was retreating.
"It's going underground," Kian said immediately, sword still dripping with residue. His breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling as mana exhaustion crept in. "Ren—don't tell me you're thinking what I think you are."
Ren's eyes had already sharpened.
The moment the scorpion's movements changed, his instincts screamed danger—not for them, but for their opportunity.
If it escaped now, it would recover. Worse, it would remember.
"Lira," Ren said calmly, already raising his hand. "Anchor point. Now."
"What?" Lira snapped, eyes widening. "Ren, are you insane? That thing's still alive and trying to flee! We're almost empty!"
Kian took half a step back. "Ren. This isn't bravery. This is suicide."
The scorpion's tail slammed once into the dirt, cracking stone as it dragged itself deeper. Its mandibles clicked violently, shrill and furious, sensing the threat behind it.
Ren exhaled slowly.
"No," he said. "This is timing."
Both of them stared at him.
"The nobles broke its outer shell. Its left carapace is shattered. Its burrowing glands are damaged," Ren continued rapidly. "If it gets underground now, we'll never see it again. But if we strike now, when it's half-submerged—"
"It can't maneuver," Lira finished weakly, realization dawning.
Ren nodded. "Exactly."
The scorpion let out a piercing screech as half its body disappeared beneath the soil.
"Move!" Ren shouted.
Lira reacted first.
She slammed her palm into the ground, teeth clenched as the last of her mana surged outward. Thick green vines erupted from the earth, wrapping around the scorpion's exposed legs, locking them in place. The strain was visible—her face went pale, lips trembling.
"I can't hold it for long!"
"That's all we need," Ren replied.
Kian roared and charged.
His sword ignited with the faint glow of reinforced mana—not flashy, not extravagant, just enough. He leapt, bringing the blade down on the already cracked joint of the scorpion's left claw.
CRACK—!
The limb severed completely.
The scorpion shrieked, thrashing violently, its remaining legs tearing trenches through the soil. One vine snapped. Then another.
"Ren!" Kian shouted.
Ren was already moving.
He didn't go for the head.
He didn't go for the tail.
He sprinted straight toward the exposed under-segment where the armor plates overlapped—the weakest point revealed only because the creature was half underground.
His dagger pierced deep.
Mana surged—not explosively, but precisely, guided by control rather than power. The blade sank into the core nerve cluster the nobles' earlier attacks had nearly exposed.
The scorpion convulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then its massive body went limp, collapsing halfway out of the earth with a final, hollow thud.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Absolute.
Lira dropped to one knee, gasping. Kian leaned on his sword, chest heaving.
Ren stood still for several seconds, waiting.
Then—
[Monster Defeated: Armored Burrow Scorpion – Elite Variant]
[Primary Kill Credit Assigned]
[Points Distributed]
The light faded.
It was over.
They didn't celebrate.
They didn't speak for nearly a full minute.
Finally, Kian broke the silence with a short, incredulous laugh. "You're insane."
Lira nodded weakly. "Completely."
Ren allowed himself a small smile. "But alive."
They didn't linger.
Elite monsters attracted attention—both human and otherwise. Once their breathing stabilized, they turned and left in the opposite direction, deliberately avoiding the path the nobles had taken earlier.
As they moved, Rm
Ren eyes flickered.
"Points check," he said.
Kian glanced over. "Don't keep us in suspense."
Ren exhaled. "I'm at 5,700 points."
Kian stopped walking.
"…What?"
Lira froze as well. "How much?"
"Five thousand seven hundred."
Kian quickly checked his point . His brows shot up. "I'm at 4,990."
Lira swallowed and checked hers.
"…Four thousand."
There was a brief silence.
Then Kian laughed again, louder this time. "So that's how elite kills scale."
Ren nodded. "Final blow matters. Precision matters."
"And brains," Lira added, shooting him a look. "Unfortunately."
Ren ignored the jab.
"We can't stop," he said. "Not yet."
By afternoon, the forest shifted.
The air grew thinner, mana density dropping—clear signs they were moving away from elite zones and toward areas filled with weaker monsters. That was intentional.
No risks. No heroics.
Efficiency.
They hunted in silence.
Small beasts. Mutated rodents. Low-tier crawlers.
Each kill was clean, controlled, and fast.
By the time the sun dipped slightly westward, Kian checked his points again.
"…4,999."
He blinked.
"One more," he muttered.
Lira laughed quietly. "Don't choke now."
She checked her own.
"4,699."
Ren nodded. "Good. That puts us comfortably ahead."
They adjusted direction immediately, veering north.
Strong monsters followed patterns. Repeated kills in one area would attract attention. Ren refused to give the zone any reason to notice them.
The sky darkened slowly.
Time ticked down.
Ren pulled up the countdown.
[Remaining Time: 10 Hours]
His expression hardened.
"Ten hours," he said quietly. "We stay sharp. No mistakes."
Kian tightened his grip on his sword. "Then let's hunt like we mean it."
Lira smiled thinly, eyes cold and focused. "Until the very end."
They disappeared into the northern treeline—three exhausted figures moving with purpose, not chasing glory, but survival.
And time, unforgiving as ever, continued to run out.