The battlefield still crackled with the echoes of violence. Ash drifted down like snow, settling over the fractured stone floor. The metallic stench of burnt mana clung thick in the air, heavy with ozone and miasma.
The husk of the fallen Sentinel remained still on the ground. Its once-majestic armor was shattered, scorched black and leaking flickers of corrupted light.
Kai staggered through the haze, boots crunching softly over broken debris. His breath came fast and uneven, chest rising and falling beneath the flickering glow of damaged runes. Each step sent a dull ache up his leg, but he ignored it. His eyes were only on her.
Belle hadn't moved from where she knelt.
Her aura—normally so vivid, so fluid and alive—now stuttered like a flame struggling against wind. Dim, fractured, sparking in brief pulses around her trembling form. Silver hair hung limp over her face, the tips charred.
Her jacket was torn through the shoulder where miasma-tainted blade had struck her. Blood—dark, almost black in the corrupted light—seeped through the fabric, dripping quietly onto the floor.
Kai dropped to his knees beside her. "Belle—!"
He reached out, but stopped short of touching her, unsure if even that would cause her more pain.
She stirred, just barely, turning her head. One silver eye cracked open, dull with exhaustion. "…Still breathing," she rasped, lips tugging upward in a faint, tired smirk.
It was meant to be humor. It hit him like a punch to the gut.
"Yeah, barely," he muttered, voice low and sharp with worry. "You look like hell."
Belle gave him a sideways look, one brow twitching, and he could practically hear the unspoken 'I told you not to jinx us.' He exhaled sharply—more of a scoff than a laugh—and reached for his belt pouch.
His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the vials stored inside. He found the one he needed—a Grade-B Recovery Potion, its liquid swirling with vibrant emerald light—and yanked the cork free with his teeth.
"Here. Drink slowly."
He lifted it to her lips.
She didn't argue. The potion went down in small, painful sips. Her throat worked with effort, each swallow followed by a grimace. The taste was bitter and acrid—like hot iron and wilted herbs—and it burned going down.
Almost immediately, her body jerked slightly in his arms as the magic surged into her bloodstream. But instead of relief, her aura flared violently—then sputtered.
Kai tightened his grip on her as her body tensed. "Easy. Easy."
Although she was immune to miasma, the miasma lingering in her wound still resisted the potion's magic. Healing clashed with corruption, and the result was slow—painful.
He could feel it in the way she breathed, each inhale strained and shallow. The backlash from Overdrive hadn't faded either. Her aura was splintered, pieces of it flickering out like dying embers.
She coughed once—a harsh, ragged sound—then slumped slightly, exhausted. Her hands twitched in her lap. She looked down at them. The glow around her fingers was faint, scattered, like cracked porcelain veined with dim light.
"…Not gonna be much help for a while," she whispered, more to herself than to Kai.
Kai stared at her for a long moment.
She wasn't someone who admitted weakness easily. Hell, she usually walked away from fights like she was untouchable. Always the one to pull him out of trouble.
But now… Now she was still, and broken, and just barely holding herself together.
Something cold and heavy settled in Kai's chest. "…Then rest," he said quietly. He adjusted his grip on his katana, thumb brushing the hilt out of habit. "I'll take point from here."
Belle's eyes flicked to him. "You?"
There was no malice in her tone. No mockery. Just surprise.
But Kai didn't flinch.
"I have to."
Not because she told him to. Not because he was the strongest. But because no one else was going to protect her. And he wouldn't let her fall here.
Not now. Not ever.
Silence settled between them. Then—soft, almost imperceptible—a sound behind them.
A whisper in the fog.
Belle's eyes narrowed. "Kai—"
A pulse of black mist erupted from the broken Sentinel's remains. It coiled upward like smoke, thick and fast, twisting unnaturally as it rose. Where the miasma touched metal, it fused to it. Where it touched the shattered limbs, it molded around them.
Kai stepped in front of Belle on instinct, blade at the ready.
The miasma surged again—more focused this time. It wrapped around the fallen pieces of the Sentinel and the shadows clinging to the walls. The corrupted energy began to condense, form taking shape like flesh being sculpted out of mist and machine.
Two, no—three shapes emerged from the fog.
Twisted amalgamations of metal and shadow. Each roughly humanoid in form, but warped—arms too long, faces half-covered by fragments of the Sentinel's mask. Their joints jerked unnaturally as if strung on invisible wires, and their eyes glowed with dull crimson light.
Shades.
But not like the ones before. They were born from the remains of the Sentinel.
A defense mechanism.
The dungeon had recognized Belle as a threat—and these were its last guardians.
Each one turned its head toward her.
Kai felt the shift in their presence. They weren't after him. They were after her. He gripped his katana tighter, taking a slow breath.
Behind him, Belle stirred weakly, already trying to rise—but her hand trembled. She couldn't fight. She couldn't move. Not yet. Her aura was still weak.
Kai stepped forward. One foot. Then another.
"…You're not touching her," he muttered. His voice was quiet. But it cut through the fog like fire.
The katana slid free with a steely whisper—a flash of heat igniting along the blade's edge. Fire coiled up the steel in rippling patterns, dancing like a living thing across its surface.
In the eerie dimness of the cavern, it lit Kai's silhouette in flickering orange, casting a long shadow behind him.
The first Shade lunged. No hesitation.
A blur of shadow and metal, limbs jerking at impossible angles, moving like something trapped between puppet and machine. Its mouth didn't open, but a distorted shriek—like static grinding against metal—ripped through the air.
Kai didn't blink. He stepped forward to meet it, fire flashing in a crimson arc.
Steel met claw.
Sparks erupted from the impact, and flame hissed across the Shade's arm, burning a searing trail into its corrupted alloy. But it didn't slow. The thing twitched, absorbing the blow with unnatural force.
Kai's boots slid back a few meters across the cracked stone, leaving black streaks in the soot.
Then came the second Shade.
From the right. Fast. He pivoted instinctively, katana swinging low.
The strike connected—just barely—scraping across the creature's chest. Fire licked at its form, charring flesh and plating. But not deep enough. The blow didn't stagger it.
And the third was already behind him.
He turned. Too slow. Claws raked across his shoulder. His jacket tore open with a sharp snap. A splash of red hit the floor.
"Ghh—!"
The pain flared hot and sharp across his back. He stumbled, but forced himself into a low roll, twisting just as another claw slammed down where his head had been. The floor cracked beneath the impact.
Kai landed in a crouch, katana still in his hand, flame sputtering.
His breath came hard and fast, shoulders rising and falling. Blood trickled down his arm.
"They're not strong," he muttered under his breath. "But…"
They're fast. And worse—relentless.
The three Shades moved with no pattern. No rhythm. Each twitch and step was erratic and unnatural, like strings being yanked by different hands. Yet… somehow they worked together. Two would feint. The third would strike.
They weren't aiming to overwhelm him. They were trying to bypass him.
His eyes darted back—just in time to see one of the Shades break off from the fight, sprinting toward Belle.
She still knelt, barely upright, aura in tatters.
The Shade's limbs flailed unnaturally as it moved—part scuttle, part glide—like a corrupted beast lurching forward on instinct.
"Not happening."
Kai moved.
One step. Two steps. His fire exploded behind him with the force of his leap.
A streak of flame carved through the air as he intercepted, spinning into a wide arc mid-dash. The katana came down like a meteor, flame trailing behind it.
The Shade twisted mid-air, contorting its torso with a bone-snapping crack. Kai's blade missed its core by centimeters, slicing through a mechanical arm instead. The severed limb spun away, burning.
The creature skidded back, one knee dropping to the floor.
But there was no time to press.
The remaining two Shades attacked in perfect synchronicity—one leaping from above, the other dashing low.
Kai saw both. Barely.
He ducked beneath the frontal swipe, twisting his body and driving the katana upward into the attacker's chest. Flame surged.
The creature wailed—an electronic shriek of pain—and convulsed as the fire seared through it. Kai gritted his teeth, twisting the blade deeper.
Too late. The third landed behind him, claw raised.
IMPACT.
A jagged claw slammed into his back, hurling him forward with bone-rattling force. His vision exploded with white stars. He hit the ground hard—skidding, tumbling, metal clattering. His katana clanged against the stone a few meters away, spinning to a stop.
Kai lay still for a moment, breath knocked out of him. Blood dripped from his lips, staining the stone beneath his cheek.
Belle's voice reached him. Faint and strained.
"Fireball."
A burst of heat erupted nearby. The impact shook the ground lightly as the Shade approaching her was blasted back, smoke trailing from the charred edges of its cloak.
Kai's eyes refocused. He saw the opening and moved.
He surged through the haze, grabbing his katana as he passed it, flame re-igniting with a hiss along the blade's edge. The fire flared brighter—hotter—burning wild with his rising will.
His feet barely touched the ground. He was there—in front of the stunned Shade—before it fully recovered.
One heartbeat. Kai's sword flared white-hot as he swung upward into a blinding arc.
"Crimson Fang: Flash Step."
The blade cleaved cleanly through the Shade's core—burning through metal and shadow in a radiant, fiery slash. The creature didn't scream. It simply disintegrated. Black mist and burning fragments scattered like ash. The light faded.
Kai landed in a crouch, blade outstretched, fire flickering in the stillness. He exhaled. Slow. Measured.
"I've told you… You are not touching her." He muttered with a serious expression.
Then—the atmosphere shifted.
The remaining two Shades stopped moving.
For a breathless second, the air was still. Then they both convulsed, limbs jittering, sparks flying from exposed joints. Their bodies twisted violently, reshaping—becoming sharper.
Kai's brows furrowed. "…They're evolving?"
The Shades weren't just attacking anymore. They were strategizing.
Red static pulsed across their limbs like twitching tendrils of lightning—syncing. Each flicker of corrupted code brought a new refinement in their movements. More efficient. More ruthless. As if they were evolving right in front of him.
Kai's jaw clenched. His breaths came sharp, each inhale scraping against scorched lungs. The air was no longer just heavy—it was suffocating. Saturated with corrupted energy, it made every motion feel like he was wading through molten lead.
His fire flickered weakly at first—but when he stepped forward, it surged again, flaring in defiance.
He would not fall. Not now.
End of Chapter 64