CHAPTER 187: EXTINGUISH

And when I reappeared, I was right in front of Malvrik, whose breath seized as he caught sight of me.

"Wait!" he managed to gasp, his voice trembling.

But I didn’t wait, [Gravefang] piercing his throat in a clean, brutal thrust, sliding through flesh with sickening ease.

Malvrik’s eyes bulged as he choked, blood immediately welling in his mouth and spilling down his chin.

I ripped the blade free, and he staggered backward, more blood pouring from the wound—thick, dark, and sizzling as it hit the ground. The grass beneath him hissed and curled inward, eaten away by the very fluid meant to sustain him.

What the hell... even his blood was toxic? Disgusting.

He swayed, barely upright, life draining from his limbs. But to his credit—or maybe sheer stubbornness—he didn’t fall. Not yet.

Despite the tremble in his arms and the growing vacancy in his gaze, Malvrik raised one final hand. His fingers curled inward, and from his palm, a deep violet sphere of toxic energy began to swirl, dense and unstable.

His last act. A parting gift.

He released it with a final grunt, the orb rocketing toward me with a high-pitched hiss.

But I was ready.

I summoned [Mana Shield] the moment it left his hand, and the barrier blinked into existence just as the blob struck.

Ssshhhhhhh—

The impact splashed across the shield, sizzling violently as the poison tried to eat through it, steam rising in thick curls. But the barrier held.

As the sizzling purple toxin dripped down the barrier and spilled onto the earth, Malvrik’s fading eyes locked onto me—still standing, completely untouched within the shimmering veil of [Mana Shield].

His expression twisted in defeat.

"Shit..." he muttered, barely more than a breath.

Then his knees gave out.

He must’ve been hoping for that one final strike to land—just enough to poison me, to leave a mark, to spite me with his dying breath.

Too bad. I’d rather not be dissolved from the inside out, thank you very much.

Malvrik collapsed face-first into the dirt, the sickly hue of his blood staining the earth around him.

And then—

Ding!

[You have killed a Chosen.]

I exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing on his motionless body.

"Thank you very much," I muttered, wiping the blood off [Gravefang] as I turned away.

Two down.

"Now... one more," I muttered, my voice low and steady as I turned towards Hissra, who stood a short distance away, frozen in place, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and fear.

He had watched Druk fall.

He had watched Malvrik die, choking on his own blood.

And now, it was just him.

I took a step forward, my blade dripping, my presence pressing down on him like a storm cloud.

I grinned.

"Well, Hissra... are you ready to hand over the seal now? Or would you prefer to die like the rest?"

He didn’t answer. Not with words. He took a step back instead, his feet unsteady, the fire around his hands dimming as the fear in his eyes grew more visible.

I kept moving toward him, slow but certain, letting him feel every second of the distance closing.

"No matter," I said calmly, tilting my head. "Either way, you die. The only difference is whether you make it easy on yourself."

*

"What is happening...?" Hissra muttered, eyes wide as he watched Malvrik collapse, his lifeless body slumping into the scorched earth.

Two of his comrades. Dead. Just like that.

In seconds.

Druk, the stone-clad enforcer. Malvrik, the poison specialist. Both were gone before they could even process the threat.

And now, only he remained.

"The hell?" Hissra whispered, almost disbelieving his own voice.

Then Eli’s voice rang out through the tension, low and calm like the tolling of a death bell.

"Are you ready to hand over the seal now, Hissra? Or would you prefer to die like the rest?"

There was no good answer to that. Both options ended the same way.

"...Make your choice."

Choice. As if there really was one.

But Hissra was not the type to beg. Not the type to kneel. If death was coming, then he would meet it with fire in his veins.

He gritted his teeth, and flames burst to life along his arms, coiling like serpents, flickering with barely restrained fury.

Eli watched it without flinching, and a grin played across his lips.

"Oh... brave choice," he murmured.

Then, without urgency, he began to walk forward—step by step.

Hissra’s heart pounded against his ribs, louder than the crackle of the flames coiling around his arms.

He’d watched the way Eli moved, seen how he closed distances in the blink of an eye. But it didn’t make sense.

The seal had still been active—at least, the last time he checked.

Which meant Eli’s innate ability—[Phase Walker]—should have remained sealed.

So how?

How was he still teleporting? Still vanishing and reappearing like a ghost on a leash?

What kind of trick was this?

Eli stopped his slow approach—and then, in a blink, vanished.

No chant. No signal. No wind-up. Just gone.

Hissra’s instincts screamed.

He didn’t hesitate. He immediately unleashed a violent burst of flame in every direction, spinning with arms outstretched as a ring of fire erupted around him, the heat searing the air, his voice rising in panic.

He expected Eli to appear within the ring. And he was right—almost.

Eli reappeared a single step away, forced back slightly by the outer edge of the flame burst. The heat licked at his cloak, singeing the hem, but he remained untouched by the worst of it.

Hissra saw the flicker of movement and didn’t hesitate. He thrust both hands forward, unleashing twin torrents of flame that roared through the clearing like twin dragons, carving through the air in wide, sweeping arcs.

But Eli dodged once—barely visible—and then vanished again, leaving the second blast to strike nothing but empty space. The flames hit with a whoosh, superheating the air so fast it shimmered like glass.

Hissra’s eyes widened, and his breath caught—panic rising like bile in his throat.

The thought gripped him: Eli could reappear at any moment—right behind him, like he had with Druk and Malvrik—and end it all in a blink.

Driven by that fear, he acted on instinct.

"Heat Domain!" he shouted, voice cracking with urgency.

A desperate move, calling on the only skill that might—just might—buy him a few more seconds to live.

The ground beneath his feet lit up with a sharp, metallic hum.

A ring of glowing runes ignited around him, each symbol pulsing with fiery energy as they formed a perfect circle. From the circle, a thick orange steam rose rapidly, expanding and hardening into a tall, transparent cylinder that surrounded him like a cocoon of molten glass.

A defensive shell. A miniature world of heat, forged by his power and will.

Hissra exhaled slowly, his...