A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Uhorus]

[Location: Galadriel]

[Western Outskirts]

Lucinda still saw it.

That was the first thing that became immediately, almost painfully clear in the silence that followed her last exchange. Her sabatons settled fully against the broken ground, her blade held low at her side, her eyes remained fixed on it.

The creature stood there for that brief, suspended second—its elongated frame twitching, those violet markings pulsing in intervals, the ground beneath it was still scarred from the previous exchange, blackened and cracked where her flames had consumed everything in their path, yet it stood untouched now, fully reformed.

Lucinda exhaled quietly through her nose.

("Its regeneration is definitely more advanced than any regular Abyssal Creature,") she thought. ("There's barely a delay, as soon as I want to end this, I'll have to completely eviscerate it.")

There was no reply, of course.

The creature's body just suddenly convulsed—its entire frame writhing, it felt wrong to observe, as if its joints didn't align with any natural structure. Then, without warning, both of its elongated arms lifted high above its head.

Lucinda's gaze sharpened.

The arms came down, they slammed into the ground with catastrophic force. The impact was as immediate as it was violent. The earth ruptured, a wide radius of terrain split apart beneath the blow, chunks of stone and soil erupting upward as a shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the field in a large surge. The sound followed a fraction later, a deep, concussive boom that echoed across the plains.

But Lucinda was already gone.

The instant before the impact fully connected, her body had shifted. She bent her knees and launched upward in one motion, her ascent clean as the shockwave tore through the space she had occupied just moments before.

Wind rushed past her as she rose, fragments of earth trailing behind.

Her eyes didn't leave the creature, even as she ascended, she tracked it. And that was when she saw it, the creature moved again.

It leapt.

Its long legs compressed for the briefest fraction of a second before it launched upward with explosive force, tearing free from the broken ground and hurtling toward her midair position. Its speed was crude but effective, aiming to close distance before she could stabilize.

Lucinda's expression didn't change.

But something in her gaze hardened.

"This confirms it has basic comprehension abilities," she said under her breath, the realization settling into place. "It's thinking ahead."

For most, being caught midair like this would have been a disadvantage. The creature's clawed hand lashed out, those elongated fingers slicing through the air with enough force to distort it. It aimed not where she was—but where she would be.

Lucinda adjusted.

Her body twisted midair, her torso rotated just enough, her legs shifting to redistribute her momentum as the creature's strike passed inches from her form, the wind from it brushing against her armor.

She watched it miss and then she acted, her leg snapped forward. The kick was fast and perfectly timed. It connected squarely with the creature's upper torso, right where its unstable mass seemed most concentrated.

The impact detonated through it, the force sent it flying. Its entire frame bent unnaturally around the strike before being launched downward, crashing back toward the cracked earth below. Lucinda followed through, allowing the momentum of her own rotation to carry her slightly higher before she stabilized herself midair.

Her free hand lifted.

She didn't hesitate as mana surged. It didn't flare wildly this time. Instead, it condensed, red light igniting briefly before shifting, cooling and then forming.

Geometric constructs of ice burst into existence around her. They were layered, interlocking forms of ice, each one forming with a distinct pattern, angles aligning near perfectly. They hovered for only a fraction of a second before they launched.

The first construct reached the creature just as it struck the ground.

It hit with devastating force, slamming into its torso and driving it deeper into the already broken terrain. The impact sent another burst of debris outward, the ground giving way beneath it as cracks spread further.

Then the others followed.

One after another, the ice constructs crashed into it—each strike punctuated by sharp, explosive bursts as the structures shattered on impact, releasing energy that tore into the creature's form. By the time the final construct struck, the area around the creature had been reduced to a crater of broken earth and scattered ice, remnants of shattered ice dissolving into the air.

Silence followed as Lucinda descended.

Her landing was light as her sabatons touched down at the edge of the ruined ground, her blade lowering slightly as she observed the aftermath.

("My magic and that kick just now—there was a difference,") Lucinda thought, her red eyes fixed on the lingering cloud of dust that still churned and shifted where the Abyssal Creature had been struck. The air felt unsettled, as if the atmosphere struggled to settle after the force she had exerted. ("It wasn't a lack of precision. The structure of the spell was sound, the impact should have carried through.") Her grip on her blade tightened slightly. ("I may not be outputting as much mana as I could, but even then, the rate at which it's adapting—no, adjusting—is far too fast. That isn't simple resistance.")

The dust shifted too sharply.

Lucinda moved before the thought fully formed.

Her body slid to the side in one smooth motion, sabatons barely scraping the ground as a long, crooked, elongated limb tore through the space where she had stood a fraction of a second before. The air split with it, a distorted whistle following the strike as if the limb displaced more than just wind.

Her blade rose in the same motion, into a single clean slash. The edge met the limb—and passed through it.

There was resistance, but only for an instant. The limb severed cleanly, the upper portion spinning away as the lower half collapsed and writhed violently against the ground. Dark, viscous strands stretched between the separated ends for a brief moment before snapping.

Lucinda did not celebrate the strike.

She watched.

The dust thinned just enough for her to see the creature clearly again—and just in time to watch the severed arm already reforming.

The writhing stump did not bleed. The black mass merely pulled inward, threads of that same malevolent energy knitting and reshaping, rebuilding where there had been absence. Within seconds, the limb was whole again, flexing as though it had never been severed.

Lucinda's gaze sharpened, her stance adjusting subtly.

("I added mana to that slash—more than enough to disrupt its structure at a deeper level,") she analyzed, her thoughts still steady. ("And it still went through cleanly. No resistance beyond the initial contact, which means the adaptation isn't preventative.")

Her gauntleted hand lifted slightly, fingers spreading as mana gathered around them.

("It doesn't stop the damage but it still recovers from it.") She exhaled slowly through her nose. ("Which means, the time between application and adaptation is the key.")

There was no time to test that theory immediately.

The Abyssal Creature surged forward again.

The ground broke beneath it as it launched itself toward her, its movement violent and still direct. There was no hesitation in it, its long limbs were driving it forward with disturbing movements.

Lucinda did not retreat.

Instead, her lips parted slightly.

"Hex: Decay."

Her voice was almost gentle, as though she were speaking to something that did not involve invoking a destructive force.

The effect was immediate.

The creature's momentum collapsed mid-charge.

Its legs gave out beneath it as the black mass that formed them turned brittle and gray in an instant, fractures racing across their surface like cracks through rock. The force of its own movement carried it forward anyway, sending it crashing harshly into the ground, its body tumbling and tearing through the dirt as the decay spread upward.

Chunks of its form broke away as it rolled, the corrupted sections crumbling into lifeless fragments before dissolving entirely.

Lucinda did not advance.

She remained where she stood, watching closely, her blade lowered slightly but still ready.

("Decay, a direct degradation of structure and energy cohesion,") she noted internally, her gaze unwavering. ("If anything should disrupt its ability to adapt, it should be this.")

The creature's movement slowed, then stopped.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

The decay had spread through its legs and into its torso, portions of its body reduced to ashen remnants. It should have been enough—against anything else, it would have been more than enough.

Lucinda's eyes narrowed.

("Now—")

The decay stopped.

Not gradually, as though it had run its course. It stopped as if something had simply decided it would go no further. The broken sections trembled—and then reversed.

The gray receded, black returning where there had been nothing but decay moments before. The broken structure reformed, pieces pulling back together as though guided by an invisible force, reassembling into a cohesive whole.

The creature rose, it stood, fully restored.

Lucinda's expression did not change, but there was a shift in her gaze.

("It adapted.")