"Or are you too afraid to admit it?"

Alex narrowed his eyes.

The demon was trying to put him in a tough spot by getting him to admit the truth.

But he wasn't intimidated.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his breath, then said,

"…It's true."

The words weren't coated in shame or apology—just honesty. His voice was measured and calm.

"But it's only speculation," he added, gaze locked ahead, never breaking stride. "A theory. Nothing more."

The demon's expression didn't change.

But something in the air did—something thin and sharp and dangerous.

"Whether it's truth or not…" the demon mused, voice slick with implication, "…it's something worth considering, no?"

That subtle shift became palpable.

Then, the demon began drifting—sidestepping ever so slightly. Still running forward, but now angling, step by step, closer to Alex.

Alex noticed it immediately.

His frown deepened, lips tightening at the edges. Of course the demon was targeting him. That had been his intention from the start.

The others had no reason to trust him anymore, so they wouldn't intervene—not after the seed had been planted.

The demon's accusation, vague as it was, held just enough weight to tilt perception. A single moment of doubt in a life-or-death sprint.

And now… now this monster wanted to escalate.

Alex wasn't afraid, though.

He didn't rattle easily.

But irritation began to gnaw at the corners of his patience.

A confrontation here was idiotic.

Not because he couldn't hold his own—

But because a fight, even a brief one, would cost time.

Cost speed.

Seconds.

Seconds were death here.

The storm behind them was relentless—an entity of hungering shadow and wrath, always just beyond the horizon of sound.

Always pacing them.

And now the demon wanted to make a move?

Fine.

Alex didn't break pace.

He didn't flinch or shout. He simply opened a circuit inside his body and let a pulse of energy travel down his arm.

A light crackled beneath his skin as he activated his innate skill.

**\\[Exploding Touch]**

It was the flashiest tool in his arsenal, and it would certainly be useful in this situation.

Without fanfare, a ring of translucent energy—unseen by the rest of the players—bloomed outward from his form, flashing like shuriken made of thin air and intent. Each disc was aimed at a different runner in the group.

His intent wasn't to take anyone down—except maybe the demon.

Not yet.

This was for the future.

Just in case any of the other players decided he was worth killing.

But things didn't go as planned.

The first disc reached Adam—and vanished on contact. So did the second.

And the third.

The same happened with Korrum, the anima monk.

Alex's brow furrowed.

His seals were being nullified.

Each runner most likely had a passive defense in play. Maybe it was their auras, maybe enchanted equipment. Either way, the energy was being peeled away like oil on water.

But luckily for Alex, not all of them had this defense.

Two seals found their mark.

The first slapped onto Vayren's shoulder.

The strange, plant-like figure didn't even flinch. He looked half-dead already, his elegance faded into staggering fatigue. He had no protection whatsoever—making him the easiest target.

The second seal found Kaelen.

Still dragging at the back of the group, still trying to maintain rhythm despite exhaustion soaking into his bones, the elf didn't even notice the thin disc of glowing light slap onto his leg.

And the demon?

The seal touched his shoulder—

And disintegrated instantly.

Just like the others.

His aura pressure was like a wall of force that rejected the seal like a fly hitting a forge.

*Figures,* Alex thought grimly.

There was no getting rid of the fiend with cheap tricks.

The demon was getting closer, step by step, pounding across the stone bridge like a living drumbeat. His expression was unreadable—something ancient coiled beneath the surface.

Alex flexed his fingers.

He was ready to face the demon.

But a shadow moved, placing himself directly between Alex and the demon, matching their pace stride for stride.

Alex's eyes widened.

It was Adam.

Adam had decided to protect him.

His reason was obvious:

He regarded Alex as someone with massive potential and wanted him to become a Chosen like he was.

He couldn't afford to let Alex fall here.

The demon and Adam exchanged a tense gaze as they kept running forward. The mood was heavy.

Then Adam spoke, his voice stretched taut as wire.

"If someone has to be eliminated to test the theory… shouldn't it be the one already falling behind?"

"Ohhh," Korrum muttered with an amused grin.

That was a suggestion he could get behind.

His kind hated the elves—viewed by them as barbaric monkeys incapable of basic spellwork.

The animosity ran deep, and whenever they got the chance to sabotage one another, they took it.

Eyes shifted—

And locked on Kaelen, who was trailing behind.

The elf had drifted back again, legs trembling with fatigue. Just a few steps. Maybe five meters. But the storm loomed behind him—hungry, watching, closer than ever before.

Kaelen felt their gazes.

He looked up, panting, and saw the judgment in their eyes. The calculation.

Especially in Korrum's.

The brute didn't bother to hide his love for the suggestion. His thick fingers hovered near the handle of his axe—not in malice. Just… readiness.

Kaelen's lips curled into a sneer.

With trembling hands, he yanked his staff from its bindings. Arcane energy sputtered around him, flickering with strain, but still alive.

Then he spat, voice rough with desperation,

"Try it. I dare you."

The runes on his staff lit—weakly, but present. He wasn't bluffing.

He wasn't going down without a fight.

No one moved.

Not Korrum.

Not Adam.

Not even the demon.

But Alex?

Alex never turned to Kaelen at all.

His focus remained locked on the demon, fingers pressed together, tension crackling across his palm.

The seal on Vayren was armed.

Kaelen's too.

He considered detonating both—

One would knock Kaelen into the storm.

The other would sabotage Vayren and disorient the demon, who was close enough to get caught in the blast radius.

The demon's hand twitched.

His weapon—a jagged, blackened blade that looked forged from bone and nightmare—slid half an inch from its sheath.

Adam began to steam, ready to do whatever it took to make sure Alex didn't fall here.

Alex was ready too—

His thumb on his finger, ready to snap.

But then, there was a sound.

Low.

Wet.

Hungry.

Every head turned—not backward, but sideways—toward the edge of the bridge. Something was moving there.

Crawling.

What rose into view wasn't a beast. Or a man.

It was something else.

A mockery of limbs and sinew, slick and black, shimmering like wet tar. It moved with twisted purpose, claws screeching as they scraped against stone.

It ran alongside the bridge—matching their speed.

Its face—if it could be called that—stretched in unnatural directions. Dozens of eyes blinked in and out of its flesh, tracking the runners with cruel intelligence.

And it wasn't alone.

Another creature just like it emerged behind it.

Then another.

Then ten.

Dozens.

A swarm.

All crawling.

All skittering, letting out a...