Chapter 139

Ethan landed with a breath as light as a feather and stole a glance behind him.

Salvator's members stood in formation.

Voices gauging the situation filtered through the unbroken ranks.

"So that makes six attacks now? Even that foul-tempered lizard's looking pretty worn out."

Lloyd shaded his eyes with one hand and spoke in a breezy tone.

Ethan spared him a glance, then dropped his gaze downward and answered.

"Yeah. The ones clinging on like pests are thinning out too."

"Ahh, you mean these little leeches?"

A crisp slashing sound cut diagonally across Lloyd's cheerful voice.

The source was Ethan. He wore a calm expression as he drew back the sword he'd swung toward his feet.

Hssss—

The black serpent that had been lunging for Ethan's ankle froze mid-strike, fangs bared and gleaming.

The clean line carved across its elongated body seized the creature's momentum like a set of reins—then severed it entirely.

Fssssh.

The serpent flickered with a faint golden shimmer and crumbled apart.

Lloyd's amused voice trailed after Ethan as he readjusted his grip on the sword.

"Sheesh, look at the venom dripping off these things. They know damn well how bad it's gotten for—"

"—Duck. Ethan."

A flat, toneless voice cut in from the very back of the formation.

Ethan bent at the waist without a heartbeat's delay. A blue streak tore across the edge of his vision in a straight line.

KA-BOOM!

The thunderclap spread through the air like smoke. Ethan slowly straightened from his crouch and turned toward the one who'd fired the shot.

At the very rear of the gathered formation. Standing alone on a straight line with nothing but empty space between them.

Ethan watched Mikhail for a moment, then hardened his tone and spoke.

"Mikhail. Don't move."

In one fluid motion, Ethan drew a spare blade and hurled it toward the rear. The sword shot forward like an arrow and punched clean through the body of a serpent that had been diving for Mikhail's neck.

SCREEECH!

The creature's death cry erupted like a geyser. But Mikhail didn't so much as flinch—the shriek at his back might as well have been birdsong.

With his usual composure, he lowered the hand he'd thrust forward, and a faint smile spread across his face.

"Nice attack."

Ethan met Mikhail's gaze. He answered with a smile of his own—loose and easy—then turned to face forward again.

Grrrrrr.

The basilisk staggered and craned its neck upward. Its shape swallowed Ethan's vision whole, and the heat leaking from the knuckles wrapped around his sword hilt spiraled through his veins.

"—Support unit ready! Fire!"

Hooks launched from every direction lashed the basilisk's body and pinned its movements once more. The red brands seared into the hands of select attackers vanished without a trace.

But the warmth still lingered. Ethan was steadying his breathing and tightening his grip on the sword when—

The next ones to step forward were Nisha and Hailey.

"All right. We'll be right back."

The two of them called out brightly and vaulted upward in a single bound, each reaching their designated strike point.

The weapons in their hands moved like they had wings of their own.

Nisha's rapier burrowed between the scales behind the neck. Hailey's knuckle dusters shattered the cracked hide beneath.

Groooooo—

The basilisk collapsed again. But this time, the way it slumped looked different from before.

Instead of ragged, exhausted breaths sawing between its jagged fangs, a low growl thick with killing intent rumbled outward—as if the beast might explode at any second.

Sharp scales began jutting upward, one after another, along the length of neck draped across the ground.

What? This kind of reaction… wasn't in the briefing.

Ethan swallowed hard and locked his eyes on the beast ahead.

The tension coiled in his fingertips had just wound tight enough to ache when footsteps drew near.

"……"

The steady padding stopped right beside him. Ethan turned toward the approaching presence.

Mikhail stood gripping a sword in an awkward stance, staring at the basilisk. He spoke in a slow, unhurried drawl.

"Some types of beasts turn vicious when they've got something to hide."

"……"

"It's putting on a threatening display, sure—but right now, it's more vulnerable than it's ever been. Fragile enough that it wouldn't want a single fly getting close."

Ethan blinked in a daze, and a hollow breath slipped through his parted lips.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the front, held the sword out to Ethan, and flashed a grin.

"Which means it's about time for the second phas— I mean, the next stage."

"Huh…?"

Ethan took the sword and tilted his head in confusion, but instead of elaborating, Mikhail folded his arms and turned back toward the basilisk.

"Anyway. The first fight went pretty well. Rotating our attacks saved a good chunk of stamina, and there's someone whose abilities are gonna come in real handy from here on out…. At this rate, whatever happens next shouldn't be a problem."

Mikhail narrowed his eyes and murmured like a professor retracing formulas scrawled across a blackboard.

But the cryptic behavior lasted only a moment. His expression softened, and he met Ethan's eyes.

"Point is—let's keep it up. All the way to the end."

Mikhail extended his left fist. Ethan stared in silence at those mischievous dark-blue eyes curved into crescents, then raised his own hand and bumped it against Mikhail's.

Tap.

The fists that had knocked together in encouragement soon fell apart.

Ethan stood there without a word, then lowered his gaze to his dangling fingertips.

Their feet stood side by side on the same line.

Neither chasing the other's back, nor striding ahead.

Something about that quiet image filled him with a sense of completeness he couldn't put a name to.

RUMMMBLE—

The ground shook beneath them. Up ahead, the basilisk began shifting the body it had draped limp across the floor.

"N-no way! A new attack?"

"Defense unit! Defense unit, get to the front!"

Startled, panicked shouts popped off like dud firecrackers across the scattered formations.

But the chaos sorted itself out almost immediately.

The announcer's voice, streaming from the broadcast device drifting through the air, seized every mind in the cavern with a single sentence.

"Now, now. Calm down, everyone! I know the situation's a bit sudden, but there's no need to panic! In fact, this is your chance to unleash everything you've got without any interference!"

"Huh?"

"A chance to unleash everything? What's that supposed to mean?"

The thick blanket of dread smothered itself like a campfire buried under dirt.

In its place, bewildered questions shot up at sharp angles from every corner of the crowd.

The announcer answered the gathered mass as though he'd been waiting for exactly this.

"Shh! First—everyone, look at the basilisk!"

The participants obeyed. Countless pairs of eyes locked onto the beast.

Grrrrrr….

The basilisk—which had been laying down threatening growls like barbed wire—had curled its body into a tight ball. A bluish glow of mana bloomed across its wounded hide.

Hssssss….

Faint static accompanied the first signs of change rippling across the creature's body. Molting skin rose over the damaged flesh, and beneath it, new tissue began to form.

CRACK. Pop.

The body emerging under the old hide revealed tougher skin and denser scales than before. The outline of its frame, glimpsed through the gaps, had swelled into something far more massive.

"Good… lord…."

Everyone stood captive to the spectacle, watching the transformation unfold in stunned silence.

Into the center of every scattered consciousness—like signposts driven into a vast, empty plain—the announcer's voice rang out with piercing clarity.

"If the basilisk completes its molt, it'll finish its mutation! A fully transformed basilisk will be roughly twice as powerful as what you've been fighting! And if that happens, the battle ahead is going to get really, truly brutal!"

The announcer drew one breath, then continued.

"You need to hit it with everything you have to stop the molt from completing! However—to prevent anyone from getting caught in crossfire, melee fighters must target only the right side, including the head! Ranged attackers must target only the left side, including the lower neck!"

Once the situation had been laid out, grunts of understanding and the sound of weapons being readied sprang up from every direction.

"Right. So that's how it is."

"Good. I've been itching to cut loose instead of just playing my role. Time to smash this thing to pieces."

The participants' eyes blazed with determination, refusing to let this opening slip away.

The announcer stamped a period onto the sudden turn of events with one final, booming declaration.

"Starting right now, every attack you land will convert into activity points based on the damage dealt to the basilisk! Give it everything you've got!"

"YEAAAAHH!"

A roar shook the cavern as weapon-wielding fighters surged toward the basilisk like a breaking wave.

Ethan, who'd been watching from his position, stepped forward as well.

Judging from the earlier exchanges, the most efficient point of attack was where the basilisk's head met its neck.

If I aim there and land a clean hit, I could rack up a huge number of—

Grab.

His forward momentum lurched to a halt as something seized his sleeve, and the thought snapped clean in two.

Ethan turned his head to look at the person gripping his cuff.

"No rush. Let's take this one slow."

Mikhail spoke in a lowered voice, flashed a meaningful smile, then cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted the same thing at the backs of his teammates charging toward the basilisk.

"Hey! Don't overdo it! Take it easy! Easy!"

Ethan stared at Mikhail—hands cupped like a megaphone—and let his confusion show plainly.

"…What? Wait, why?"

"Well, the thing is…."

Mikhail's explanation hadn't even had time to land.

—KA-BOOM!

At the far edge of Ethan's vision—from the magic research institute's position—an enormous mana sphere launched like a bolt of lightning and slammed into the basilisk's body with a deafening blast.

"……"

Ethan froze where he stood. His blank face traced the mana sphere's trajectory, then swiveled back to Mikhail.

"So, yeah. How do I put this."

Mikhail was stretching out each word with a teasing, lopsided grin.

He rolled those dark-blue eyes lazily toward the rear, stole a glance at the research institute's formation a short distance away, and spoke.

"They'll burn through all the unnecessary effort for us."

Mikhail whispered it like a secret, then conjured a mana sphere the size of a coconut and lobbed it casually at the basilisk's lower neck.

But then the point gap could close in no time…. Is this really okay?

Not a shred of concern for the situation unfolding right in front of him—nothing but the look of someone enjoying a prank.

Ethan watched Mikhail in silence for a long moment, then slowly pulled his gaze away.

It crossed his mind, fleeting as static, that the place Mikhail's eyes were fixed on might be somewhere entirely different from his own.