"Drink a mana potion first," Yukha instructed.

  Finn glanced at his mana reserves—already halfway depleted. While he felt he might have enough to finish the job, it was better to play it safe. He retrieved a mana potion and drank it, feeling the familiar surge of energy as his mana bar filled to capacity.

  "You ready?" Yukha asked.

  Finn took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto the creature. Alone now, the Shredder somehow felt even more imposing than when it had been surrounded by the floaters. Its massive, calm form exuded an air of quiet menace.

  Its body maintained the same rhythmic pattern—opening and closing like a breathing maw. The grass around it swayed gently in time with its motions, creating an almost hypnotic effect. But Finn knew better than to let his guard down. The moment he stepped into its detection range, the calm would end.

  "I'm going in," Finn said firmly.

  "Alright. I’ll support you from behind. I’ll wrap you in a water shield to reduce damage in case you get hit by its wind blades," Yukha offered.

  "No," Finn replied. "It’ll dull my senses. I need to stay as connected to fire as possible. Just cover me with your ice if I’m about to miss a dodge."

  "Alright," Yukha said. "But remember, wind is almost invisible. It’s not like the water blades I used to train you. Pay attention to the grass movements, the sound of the wind, and your Perception. Trust your instincts—you’ll know when it’s coming."

  "Got it," Finn said, nodding.

  He crouched, lowering his center of gravity as if preparing for a sprint. His right leg stretched behind him, muscles tensing like a coiled spring. He closed his eyes briefly, syncing his breathing with the creature’s rhythm.

  Inward. Outward. Inward. Outward.

  "Now!" he shouted, kicking off the ground with explosive force.

  As he sprinted toward the Shredder, the grass surrounding the creature suddenly stopped moving, frozen in eerie stillness. The unnatural sight almost made Finn falter, but he pressed on.

  Then, without warning, the grass split apart in front of the creature, along with chunks of soil, as if something invisible had just carved through them.

  The first wind blade had been unleashed.

  Finn honed in on the subtle movements of the grass, syncing them with his heightened Perception. The first blade was faster than he anticipated, slicing through the air with a deafening whoosh as it narrowly missed him. The sound was sharp and piercing, like a jet screaming past at close range.

  The urge to glance back tugged at him, but he resisted. There was no time to lose focus. Another attack could come at any moment.

  He slowed his pace to a jog, balancing between conserving his stamina and staying alert. Every step was measured, his senses sharpened, his focus absolute.

  In his mind, he began counting the seconds.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  The grass in front of the creature split apart again, signaling the launch of another invisible blade. Finn caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and sidestepped just in time, the blade slicing through the air where he’d been an instant earlier.

  Three seconds. The delay is longer than I thought.

  Before Finn could start counting again, a new wind blade was already hurtling toward him.

  Crap, I can't dodge this one—

  An ice shard collided with the blade, shattering it mid-air. Another shard followed, then another, forming a defensive barrage.

  "Move, Finn!" Yukha’s voice cut through the chaos behind him.

  Snapping out of his daze, Finn slapped his cheeks with both hands to refocus. The rhythm of the wind blades had changed, their speed now relentless—one every second instead of every three. He pushed forward, dodging the spot where ice and wind clashed, his mind racing.

  I can’t keep relying on Yukha. But what can I do if I can’t keep up with its attacks?

  He recalled Yukha’s earlier warning: Its wind blades can intercept ranged attacks.

  Without hesitation, Finn conjured a small flame and launched it toward the creature. Unlike his previous attacks, it wasn’t designed for power—no tail, no rotation—just a simple orb meant to provoke.

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  As expected, the creature intercepted the flame before it even reached halfway. A wind blade cut through it, dispersing it instantly. Another blade followed, this one aimed at Finn, but he dodged with ease.

  It worked.

  Quickly, Finn began summoning small fire orbs in rapid succession, each one weaker than the last to conserve mana. Their sole purpose was to distract, not destroy. The wind blades intercepted every flame he sent, allowing Finn to run forward freely without fear of a direct attack.

  But just as he released another orb, the creature stopped responding. The flame continued unchallenged, flickering harmlessly in the distance.

  What’s it doing now?

  The air grew unnervingly still. Then, the creature’s maw widened, its gaping hole expanding as a soft suction began to pull at everything around it. The grass bent toward the creature, soil and debris shifting, and even the flame hovering above Finn flickered, struggling to resist the pull.

  The suction grew stronger, tugging at him like an invisible rope.

  This must be its second attack.

  Finn summoned the item he’d purchased earlier from the shop—a sleek, unblemished sword. He didn’t have a clue how to wield it properly, but that didn’t matter right now. Gripping the hilt tightly in his left hand, he drove the blade deep into the ground, the metal biting into the soil.

  Crouching low, he braced himself against the relentless pull, his knuckles whitening as he clung to his makeshift anchor. Gritting his teeth, he extended his free hand, summoning a flame that flickered to life.

  The wind made it nearly impossible to control—the fire flickered wildly, fighting to escape his grasp.

  "If you want it that badly, then eat this!" Finn shouted, releasing the flame.

  The fire shot straight into the creature’s maw, disappearing into its depths. For a moment, the suction stopped, only to resume again, stronger than before.

  "Didn’t think one shot would do it," Finn muttered, summoning another flame.

  This time, he abandoned precision and restraint, conjuring fireballs one after another and letting the creature’s own pull consume them. Each flame was swallowed whole, and with every hit, the suction weakened.

  "It's working," he said under his breath, feeling the resistance ease.

  As the pull diminished, Finn released the sword, standing upright for one final attack. He summoned a larger, more intense flame, pushing it to its limit. When it was ready, he hurled it toward the creature with all his might.

  The flame vanished into the maw, detonating in a fiery burst. The suction ceased entirely, the air returning to an unnatural calm.

  "Finally," Finn whispered, collapsing onto the grass. He wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily as the adrenaline drained from his body.

  Suddenly, a sinking feeling gripped his stomach. Beyond the haze of smoke, something shifted, slicing through the air with deadly precision.

  A wind blade? It was still alive?

  Finn's body refused to respond in time. As the blade raced toward his face, everything seemed to slow down. He could vaguely hear someone shouting his name, their voice muffled and distant, drowned by the pounding of his own heartbeat.

  I let my guard down. This is it. I’m dead.

  Just as the thought crossed his mind, the small flame hovering above him suddenly shot to his side, as though it had a will of its own. It expanded in an instant, bright and searing, detonating into a fiery explosion that hurled him sideways.

  But the explosion wasn’t enough.

  Finn barely registered the warmth spreading across his left arm. When he glanced down, his mind froze. His brain struggled to process what he was seeing—blood dripping steadily from a jagged gash.

  A high-pitched ringing filled his ears, drowning out all other sounds. His head throbbed as blood rushed to it, leaving him light-headed. The edges of his vision blurred, the world tilting unnaturally.

  Confusion settled in, thick and suffocating. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

  [Yukha]

  "Stand up, Finn! It's not dead yet!" Yukha shouted, his voice urgent as he sprinted toward Finn.

  He poured every ounce of strength into his legs, the force of his steps shaking the earth beneath him. Soil and grass tore away with each stride, but he barely noticed—the only thing that mattered was getting to Finn.

  He should have launched another ice shard to intercept the incoming attacks, but he knew that running at full speed would get him to Finn faster.

  Faster.

  I made a costly mistake. I should have stayed closer, not hung back.

  Faster.

  The world around him blurred, his surroundings lost to the rush of his movement. His heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn’t fast enough.

  I’m not going to make it.

  "Finn! Stand up! Get out of there! Finn!" Yukha’s voice cracked with desperation.

  Boom!

  A deafening explosion rocked the air, and Finn’s body was violently thrown sideways.

  Did he do that? Did he manage to strengthen his attempt at dodging using the explosion of his fire?

  But why isn’t he moving?

  "Finn! Stand up! It’s not dead yet!" Yukha shouted, his voice shaking.

  Something’s wrong.

  As he closed the distance, Yukha’s eyes widened in horror. Blood. There was blood dripping from Finn’s arm—he’d still been hit by a wind blade.

  "Finn! Consume a health potion! Quick!"

  [Finn]

  What just happened?

  I got hit?

  He blinked, his gaze dropping to his arm.

  A deep crimson gash stared back at him.

  Blood?

  My own blood?

  It felt warm, trickling down his skin in thick streams. The vibrant red was all he could focus on.

  Then the pain hit.

  Blinding. Searing.

  It hurts.

  It hurts so much.

  "IT HURTS!" he screamed, his voice raw with agony.

  Rage surged through him like a tidal wave, drowning the pain. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

  The small flame hovering above him seemed to hear his fury. It swelled, growing larger and larger until it was a raging inferno.

  Then, it erupted.

  A torrent of flame bullets burst forth, each one like a fiery missile, raining destruction down on the Shredder.

  The fire lit up the battlefield, each strike exploding on impact. Smoke and embers filled the air, a chaotic symphony of fire and fury.

  A burning sensation ignited deep within Finn’s stomach, the pain shooting through his entire body like jagged lightning. His limbs screamed for mercy, but his mind wouldn’t listen.

  He didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

  "DIE!" he roared, his voice breaking with rage. "DIE! DIE!"

  The inferno above him obeyed, unleashing an unrelenting barrage of fire. The flames consumed everything in their path, turning the air around him into a boiling furnace.

  Finn’s vision blurred, his strength waning, but the fury kept him standing.

  Nothing else mattered. Only the fire—and the creature’s destruction.