As Ladrel and his companions stepped out of the portal, back into their hideout, a sharp stab of pain shot through his hand.

  “Tch—damn it,” he muttered under his breath, flexing his fingers. The pain was getting worse by the second.

  He clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing as the memory of Gwen's punch flashed in his mind.

  What kind of monster is that girl? he thought, holding back a hiss. If I fought bare-handed like she did, I'd have been down before the fight even begun.

  Elrond wrapped Thran’s unconscious body in thick chains, dragging him forward without a word.

  Then, without warning, Ladrel hissed—and vanished into thin air.

  …

  Deep within the crumbling ruins, they reached what looked like a dead end.

  “Shall we?” the Flame Raider asked, eyes glinting.

  Gwen blinked. “That's a wall”

  “I'm not so sure about that” he replied with a smirk, walking forward and slipping clean through the mist with his partner right behind.

  Zephyr exhaled lightly. “Another mist, huh.”

  He smiled. “Let’s go.”

  And the three of them stepped through.

  …

  Just beyond the veil—a trap. Hostile creatures, weapons primed, elements flaring at their fingertips. The enemy was waiting.

  The Flame Raider and his ally rushed ahead toward their squad, laughing as if this was all a game.

  “You still think you can win?” the Flame Raider sneered.

  Damon scratched the back of his head with a tired sigh. “Out of all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this one came up like... thirty-five times. And I still let us walk right into it.”

  He didn’t even sound mad about it—just... mildly disappointed.

  Gwen glanced at him, face scrunched in mild disgust. “That sounds exhausting.”

  “What does?” Damon asked.

  “Thinking,” she said flatly.

  He blinked. “Wh—what?”

  “I mean, Zephyr’s always like, ‘we need to do this before we do that, we have to strategize, play it safe so the plan works’—ugh. That sounds like stupid”

  “I can’t help it,” Damon said, lifting a shoulder. “My brain doesn’t stop. Feels like the thoughts are always swirling out there, like stars in space—and I just reach out and grab the ones I need. Grimm says it’s part of my abilities... says it’s only gonna get worse.”

  Gwen shook her head slowly. “Man, that’s rough. Honestly, knowing stuff before it happens? Sounds like a waste to me.”

  Damon tilted his head, eyebrows scrunched.

  “It’s like a jump scare in a movie,” Gwen said, her thoughts processing out slowly. “If someone spoils it, it barely hits. But if it catches you by surprise? That’s the real thrill.”

  Zephyr and Damon both turned to her in sync, blinking like they were trying to process a different language.

  Gwen just beame like she’d solved the meaning of life.

  “…Are these bastards for real?” one of the enemy muttered. “They’re acting like they aren't at enemy's base.”

  “They’re bluffing," Another spoke, stepping forward. "I bet they're probably shaking in their boots right now. I'll deal with—”

  He stopped.

  His foot hovered mid-step. Eyes wide. Breath caught as he felt like he was being swallowed by dominance.

  And then, like the fear had reached into his soul and pulled the plug—

  Thump!

  He collapsed.

  Damon blinked, glancing over his shoulder. “Uh… who’s that?”

  ATTACK!!

  Weapons charged. The air tensed.

  Damon whipped back, startled. “Wait—did I ask the wrong question!?”

  Before anyone could answer, a powerful gust of wind tore past him, knocking several enemies flying.

  “Stay sharp, Damon,” Zephyr warned, wind still circling him. “This is enemy territory.”

  Gwen was already in the air—crashing down with a brutal punch that dropped one of them in the blink of an eye. She caught his limp body mid-fall and hurled it like a wrecking ball into the next.

  “Let’s make it fun!” she called out.

  “Whoever gets the most takedowns wins.”

  Damon cracked a grin. “You’re on.”

  Zephyr didn’t respond—he’d already carved twin blades of wind and dashed ahead, silent and precise.

  Damon followed, eyes locking onto the nearest enemy. In an instant, he was up close. The man raised his arms to block—but Damon was already behind him. The enemy jerked violently, struck by an invisible force, and crumpled to the ground.

  Another lunged forward, bending the earth beneath him to summon a massive boulder. He hurled it at Damon.

  Damon flicked his hand upwards—the boulder split in two and crashed harmlessly past.

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  A second enemy raised his arm, heat swelling into a roaring fireball—but Damon appeared beneath him in a blink. He caught the caster’s wrist, drove an elbow into his ribs, then spun and launched him through the air like a cannonball.

  The third came from the side, lightning sparking off his fists. He swung wide for Damon’s head—but Damon leapt back, the crackling strike cutting through air. As the attacker moved again, Damon twitched his fingers—side, then up. The man’s arm jerked open mid-swing, and an unseen force slammed upward into his gut. He hit the ground hard—without Damon ever touching him.

  Zephyr blitzed through the crowd, severing muscle and balance with swift, surgical strikes. Wind pulsed around his feet, throwing enemies off rhythm. One tried to leap at him from behind—Zephyr stomped the ground, sending a gust that swept the man’s legs from under him before he even landed.

  Meanwhile, Gwen tore through their ranks with brutal elegance. Every punch shattered guards, every movement effortlessly dodging strikes mid-air. She twisted in motion, flipping her momentum like gravity didn’t apply.

  “Thirty-two,” she counted aloud, launching another with a knee to the chin.

  “Thirty-seven,” Damon called back, still going.

  “Forty,” Gwen replied, unfazed and climbing.

  Their enemies lay crumpled in the dust, bodies scattered like broken dolls, overwhelmed by sheer force and speed—until only one was left standing.

  He froze, eyes wide. Then, without a word, he turned and ran.

  A silver chain-spear whipped through the air and stabbed right through him before he took another step.

  From the smoke, calm and deliberate, Elrond stepped forward.

  “We meet again,” he said, his voice smooth, nearly amused.

  Gwen squinted. “Well, well, if it isn’t Clankykins.”

  Zephyr pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even your bad nicknames sounds bad.”

  “Where’s your leash partner, Clanky?” Gwen pointed, mockingly.

  Elrond’s smirk was as sharp as his weapons. “Oh, they’ll be along shortly.” From his back, chains unfurled like living things—sinuous, eager, lashing forward with menace.

  “But for now, I’ll keep you entertained.”

  Gwen flicked a thumb over her shoulder. “You sure about that? Doesn’t seem like a smart plan.”

  Elrond’s smirk deepened.

  A faint whistle. A chain-spear sliced through the air from their back like a whisper, curving toward Gwen’s head.

  Gwen let out a sigh, tilting her head slightly, the spear shot by, she grabbed for the spear mid-flight with one hand, and crushed it in her palm like dry twigs.

  “You know, doing that often, just feels stupid."

  Elrond’s grin twitched. His jaw clenched.

  Then he extended a hand, fingers spread out in elegance.

  “Chain Armored Giant.”

  The ground cracked beneath their feet. From the fractured earth, a massive figure emerged—a towering elf, easily five and a half meters tall. His silk-white hair shimmered with an ethereal glow, cascading down his back like moonlight. Two horns jutted from the sides of his head, where ears should’ve been, curling backward like a ram’s. Atop his brow sat a crown of twisted wood, beautiful and wild, its ends flaring outward like antlers—wrapped tightly in enchanted chains that pulsed with restrained power.

  He lowered to one knee, head bowed in reverence, a hand pressed solemnly to his chest.

  The battlefield hushed—the air itself tensed, thick with silence that roared louder than any war cry.

  Damon’s eyes narrowed. “Okay… yeah, that’s definitely not what I expected.”

  Zephyr turned to him, blinking. “Right? I mean, I was picturing some massive, grotesque chain monster. Spikes. Rattling. The whole thing.”

  Damon nodded. “Exactly. Like—full metal horror. That would’ve been awesome.”

  Elrond’s brow twitched, his smirk replaced by a glare.

  Zephyr opened his mouth, “Gwen, you and—”

  But she was already gone.

  A blur of motion shot past him.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice!” Gwen called, already mid-air.

  She vaulted with ease, soaring over five meters skyward. Twisting her body with precision, she hurled a thunderous punch down toward the giant’s face.

  The giant met her strike with a fist of his own. The two forces collided—flesh against flesh—sending a concussive shockwave tearing through the field.

  Wind howled. Dirt erupted. Elrond shielded his eyes, his chains flaring wildly behind him.

  Gwen flipped back, her landing smooth as water. Her eyes sparked with excitement. “He hits hard. I like him.”

  Zephyr took a low stance, twin wind blades forming along his arms, crackling with compressed air. “Alright. You two take the big guy…”

  His eyes licked on Elrond.

  “I’ll handle Clankykins.”

  Elrond’s chains coiled like serpents behind him, gleaming with anticipation.

  The giant unleashed a barrage—dozens of chain spears erupted from his colossal palm, each as thick as tree trunks, crashing through the battlefield like divine judgment.

  Damon and Gwen bolted toward him, their movements instinctual, fluid, unspoken.

  A chain spear tore past Gwen’s face, close enough to slice the air beside her skin—she twisted in mid-stride, letting its momentum whip by harmlessly. Another crashed down in front of her like a falling pillar, but she launched herself off the debris mid-spin, flipping over the next.

  She landed, bracing her legs against the force of yet another strike. The spear smashed down beside her, gouging the earth. She didn't try to stop it—instead, she kicked off it, using its massive surface to redirect her path like a springboard, soaring into another evasive arc.

  Damon several strides ahead, moved with calm. One of the giant’s chain spears veered toward him at impossible speed—but before it could land, it burst apart mid-air in a flash of cerulean light, crumpling under unseen pressure. Another lunged from above, yet twisted away unnaturally, as if the space around Damon bent in rejection.

  Gwen, using the chains as a springboard, ran up the giant’s arm with Damon moving beside her, wrapped in a shimmering forcefield, he burst through the whirling chains effortlessly.

  On the ground below, Zephyr cut through Elrond’s chains as he advanced forward, blades flashing, as sparks flew.

  He closed in fast, slicing with both weapons, aiming straight for Elrond’s face.

  His eyes widened as he saw the blades moving straight at him, he immediately leaned to the side, letting the blades slide by his cheek—a narrow dodge that left strands of his hair fluttering in the air.

  Relentless, Zephyr hurled both blades into the air, then leapt after them—spinning midair in a fluid motion, he kicked them toward Elrond with brutal precision. One chain spear snapped forward, blocking the first blade, but the second grazed Elrond’s cheek and pinned itself into the ground behind him.

  Zephyr didn’t hesitate. Leaving no room for a counter, he clasped his palms together and faced them toward Elrond. Wind swirled around him, his hair whipping back as he concentrated it into a dense force—then unleashed it like a bullet.

  Elrond instantly drew a glaive from thin air, slashing the wind attack clean in two.

  He spun and hurled the glaive at Zephyr. Zephyr tilted his head just enough to dodge, eyes locked on the spinning weapon as it reversed course—yanked back by Elrond’s chain.

  Grabbing the glaive mid-motion, Elrond used the momentum to whirl in a wide arc. The ground erupted—chain spears burst upward, hurling toward Zephyr.

  With a sweep of his arm, Zephyr redirected them, a tornado swirling into existence and bending the attack aside. But Elrond had already closed the distance. He hovered behind Zephyr, grinning fiercely with his eyes.

  Zephyr vanished—then reappeared above him, wind blades in hand, diving straight down with both aimed at Elrond’s head.

  Elrond’s eyes widened. his breath caught in his throat as he leapt aside just in time.

  "Tch, I forgot about that gruesome ability of his,” Elrond muttered with a frown.

  Lunging forward, he struck violently with his fist—Zephyr blocked, crossing both arms in defense.

  The ground beneath them struggling to maintain it's form as it cracked violently.

  The giant growled, recovering from Gwen’s initial blow—only to be met by a sharp kick to the face from Damon, sending it stumbling sideways.

  Then Gwen dropped from above, fists folded together, slamming down a devastating hit onto the giant’s skull—cracking one of its antlers clean off.

  Zephyr landed from above, his wind blades slicing through the air aimed with precision. Elrond slipped back just in time, his eyes and body struggling to keep up with Zephyr's relentless movements, a small crater formed beneath his feet on impact.

  Elrond immediately stretched his arms forward—chains bursting out from his palms like a net, racing toward Zephyr.

  Gwen’s eyes widened—but before she could react, Damon threw himself in front of her, shielding her as the giant’s massive chains closed in.

  He concentrated a pulse of psychic energy in his hand, then blasted it forward.

  PSIONIC BURST, his voice echoed faintly.

  The wave exploded outward, shattering the incoming chains into glittering fragments—then collapsed inward and launched like a beam, shooting straight at the giant.

  The giant’s massive eyes narrowed—just before a massive shield erupted from the ground in front of it.

  But the psionic blast tore through the thick shield like paper, piercing the giant’s chest and dropping it to one knee.

  Gwen immediately leaped into the air, spinning with momentum, her heel crashing into the giant’s face—knocking it flat.

  Elrond slid back, catching Zephyr’s kick with his glaive in a sharp metallic clash.

  Gwen landed beside Damon. “You knew I had that, right?” she smiled.

  “I know,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

  She chopped his head lightly, again and again. “Then… why… did you… jump… in front… of me… like that?”

  Damon held his head, squatting in pain. “I’m sorry. My body moved on its own.”

  “You’re one big moron, you know that,” she smiled again.

  She stepped forward, casually placing a hand on Zephyr’s shoulder. “Still not done yet,” she teased.

  Zephyr swung both wrists, and the twin wind daggers dissolved into a swirl of wind.

  Elrond panted heavily, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. One was more than enough—now there were three of them.

  "May I join in?"

  A voice from above called out.

  It was Ladrel. To his left standing was Tharn and to his right, Standing next to him was a lady—168cm tall, her posture effortless yet alert. Her scarlet red hair flowed down in twin ponytails that framed her sharp, angular face. Her ears were long and pointed, revealing her Elven blood, and her amber eyes glowed with an eerie calm, as though she saw far more than what was in front of her. Her beauty was surreal—almost unnerving—like a painting that watched you back.

  Her cloak fluttered slightly in the breeze, revealing a sleek, obsidian bodysuit beneath, molded perfectly to her graceful form. Her bust curved at 93cm, prominent but balanced by her toned physique. Supported casually on her shoulder with one gloved hand was a massive red crossbow, almost as tall as she was, it's intricate limbs pulsed with runes.

  There was elegance in her movements, but no softness—she landed with the poise of a dancer and the readiness of a seasoned killer.

  They both dropped down gracefully.