Chapter 141: Long, long Creature
The trio pressed forward into the bloated woods, where the mountain seemed to erode into a diseased jungle. Here, the trees held no nobility—they twisted as if seized by spasms, their trunks oozing black, viscous sap, their uprooted tendrils slithering like famished beasts.
They had barely taken a few steps when a wet rattle erupted from the moss, when a chitinous mass lunged from a hollow trunk, claws outstretched.
Maggie moved first. A pivoting step, a rotation of her hips, and her flail-halberd came down with a muffled crack, like a contained storm. The metal seemed to sing as it split the creature in two. Yet her breathing hadn’t even changed rhythm.
Her body responded. Better than before. Each movement no longer required the same effort—it was already second nature. The weapon wasn’t an extension anymore: it was her.
"Another one, right!" Élisa called, her finger pointing through the tainted foliage.
She hadn’t raised her voice, but the world around them seemed to hear. The branches trembled, the ground wrinkled... and the essence bent to her will.
She extended her hand. Her spear erupted from the earth beneath her feet. But instead of gripping it, she sent it spinning in a rapid circle, tracing a whirling barrier of spikes and psychic lightning. A creature leapt—only to crash against an invisible shockwave. The air vibrated around her as if space itself were contracting, manipulated by a hand too sure to be human.
She was no longer just awake. She was active. Aware. She wove, she altered angles, inertia, densities around her.
And Dylan...
He advanced, sword in hand, without seeking heroics. But his movements—they had become beautiful. Not refined—beautiful like a clean line, like a calligraphic stroke mid-battle. With each assault, he cut, clean, without hesitation. His Jian no longer rebounded. It pierced flesh as it was meant to.
As if he had finally understood. Not the weapon.