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The being that claimed to be Loni'var rose from the veil of black smoke, tall and dreadful, as though the shadows themselves was its shape. Darkness hid its true face, but Faerith could make out the two crimson eyes burning within, watching her with quiet menace. From the gloom, a monstrous hand revealed itself, clutching a blade that seemed forged for slaughter.
A sudden glow flared before her vision, the system blinked.
[Defeat the enemy before you before the time runs out]
(1:20)
Faerith's heart slammed against her ribcage. *Defeat it... Before the time runs out* her gaze trembled as it traced the creature's towering silhouette.
This was indeed a Mythic. For the first time, she had seen how one actually looked like. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as doubt crept into her chest.
How was it possible for her to fight something like this? It looked less like a for but a nightmare given form, she was certain that this was what killed that loved one of hers.
As Faerith studied every feature of the monster, from its shifting form and the way it glided—not walked—but glided towards her. She could hear footsteps, get there were no legs to be seen. The shadow and smoke had shielded that as well.
It attacked, charging at her with terrifying speed that looked unnatural.
Faerith frantically turned to the system, trying to pull out her whip, but the Mythic was already upon her. Death rushed forward in a blur of Shadow and metal.
By pure instinct, enchanted by her perception, she dropped to all fours. The blade screamed past her head, leaving a gust of wind that sliced away a small lock of her hair.
The fuck?! That almost obliterated me. If even the wind pressure from that blade me, I would be fated to die.
If not for her heightened perception, she would have been dead already. But fate hesitated—and in that single heartbeat, Faerith was given a chance to strike back.
She snapped her whip forward, "I've got you, foul beast!"
The weapon tore through the creature's body like a blade through molten wax. For a moment, she thought she had done it.
That single attack was fated to have ended it. But the torn shadowy flesh rippled. The missing chunnk of blackness reformed, shadows knitting together as if nothing had happened.
Her blood ran cold as she saw this.
It's healing? How is that possible?!
How could she defeat such a monster? She had never been taught how Mythics were killed, only that they had weak points. And now, one stood before her.
Where could she find a possible weakness? As that thought formed, Something shifted.
Within the swirling shadows and smoke, Faerith caught a glimpse of something—an opening. Hidden deep inside the black mass was a face. Feminine, pale, eyes filled with tears glowing with red.
This sight was uncanny, her chest tightening.
It was the same thing she had seen when the fought in the bronze door. That strange pull like she could see the weak point. That second instinct she could never ignore.
A single purple tear slipped from her left eye as this happened. Faerith reached up, touching her cheek.
He liquid in her fingers pulsed with a soft violet light.
"What on earth is this?..." She muttered under her breath. "Is this... Tears?"
The Mythic finished knitting itself back together. Then it charged.
It dashed toward her, blade raised high, ready to cleave her apart. Faerith abandoned her whip and threw her hand forward instead. The system flickered violently as violet light surged from her palm.
[Default Skill Used: Psychokinesis]
The blade stopped.
Invisible force screamed between them as Faerith held the weapon in place. The pressure was immense—her arms trembled, teeth clenched—as the Mythic pushed harder, the blade inching closer to her face, slow and merciless.
Yet through the chaos, she saw it again.
The face.
Feminine. Tearful. Helpless—like a child begging to be saved.
Gritting her teeth, Faerith made her choice.
She released one hand, holding the blade back with the other. Gathering every shred of will she had left, she struck forward with a sharp, decisive motion—unleashing the last of her psychic strength.
[Energy Used: 40]
The Mythic was hurled into the air, crashing down with a terrible force. The ground erupted in a violent splash of red.
Faerith staggered, staring at the system tab as her heart thundered in her chest. Her breath came heavy, her limbs shaking.
I feel so fatigued… What would happen if that number reached a hundred?
There was no time to dwell on her weakness. The monster was already rising again, unsteady, wounded but still gripping its blade with deadly intent, ready to cut down the girl before it.
Faerith forced herself upright, her chest heaving, her breath ragged and heavy, like an injured wolf standing its ground in the dead of winter. She locked eyes with the Mythic, her gaze sharp and teeth clenched tight.
Reaching down she grabbed her whip, wasting no single time as she charged forward with a final strike.
The beast lunged.
Ignoring the scream of fatigue and nerves burning, Faerith let out a fierce battle cry that echoed across the cloudy field. She leapt forward and struck with all the strength she had left, striking straihty at the creature's face.
Ever since those visions had appeared, since the bronze gate misdion—she had always seen the same thing. That uncanny face, just like she had seen the crimson beast's stomach.
That was the weak point, clear and undeniable.
The creature roared, a sound of pain and fury, as her strike landed true. Faerith crashed onto the blood-soaked ground, rolling as her strength finally gave out.
Her body felt hollow, barely able to move. But she had done it. The monster collapsed just as the system timer flickered toward its end.
(00:02)
[Mission Completed]
+120 XP
• Level Up
• Level Up
• Rewards: Mythic Ash
Name: Faerith Brewer — Lv. 008
Title: Common Esper
HP: 180
MP: 230
Strength: 96
Agility: 96
Stamina: 96
Knowledge: 96
Perception: 50
AP: 30
[PsyWhip Upgraded!]
The world shuddered, and then returned.the battlefield faded, replaced by fields of monkey-face orchids and the strange beauty of Erandale, dotted with low-level Mythics roaming in the distance.
The cursed land she had been forced to endure stood calm once more. Faerith released a long breath of relief, her heavy breath becoming still.
Then—in an instant, her body began to fail. Her limbs felt heavy. Her vision blurred.
Her eyelids drooped. I'm falling asleep… I hope a Mythic doesn't find me…
As darkness crrept in, she caught sight of a figure looming over her. A cloak hid most of their form with only two pair of pink glowing eyes glaring down at her. She recognized him instantly.
This was the same man from before who had appeared when Faeul had tried to kill her.
"It's… you," she murmured.
Then he eyes closed. In the darknesss of her fading consciousness, a message emerged.
[New Ability Unlocked: Clairv—]
*Clairv…? What is that?*
And then—nothing, only blackness.
Faerith's eyes flew open as she jolted awake, a sharp gasp tearing from her chest. Her breath came fast and uneven, her mind still fractured from facing such a dreadful Mythic.
She slowly looked around. She was in her room.
Outside through her window was the night sky stretching endlessly.
*How long have I been sleeping?...* She lifted a hand to her temple and winced as a sharp throbbing pain pulsed through her head, lingering like the echo of the battle that refused to fade.
Faerith pushed herself upright, her body still unsteady after an exhausting battle. As her bare feet touched the cold floor, the room around her began to shift and in that instant, it felt like her vision was stretching.
Then her gaze snapped into focus somewhere else entirely, like she was in another place.
It was her kitchen.
There were no candles to light it up only the moonlight spilling faintly through he window, and there standing in the middle of the room was a tall, feminine figure
Her breath hitched as she saw this.*Who is that?*
Someone was in her home, but she wasn't sure of what she was seeing. Before she could make out who it was, the vision shattered like glass. Pain exploded through her skull, sharp, heavy and violent. Warm liquid streamed from her nose as she staggered back.
The system flashed into life again.
(Psychic Ability Used: Clairvoyance)
(Psychic Cooldown: 2 Min)
Faerith stared at the glowing text, herhart pounding heavily. This was why she saw the time before she passed out.
Another pulse of light followed.
(Psychic Effect Cleared)
Her body glowed brightly for a brief second and in an instant, the pain vanished. The bleeding stopped as she stood, overhwelmed by this.
Then she heard—a crash like the sound of broken ceramic and glass echoing from downstairs.
From her kitchen. Faerith didn't hesitate, she pulled her whip and rushed down the stairs, every sense on high alert. Reaching the kitchen where the source of the sound echoed from, she slowed, scanning the room carefully.
But there was only silence. Then—footseps emerged from a corner. Faerith snapped her whip into a ready stance and turned sharply.
"Who's there?" She demanded, "Show yourself!"
A figure stepped out if the shadows, the air growing heavy. Then candles already set up lit and there stood Loni'var dressed in a different attire as the imposter from before.
"Oh, you're awake," she said casually like she hadn't just fought the girl. "Took you long enough"