CHAPTER 190: [THE SERPENT AND THE NAME]

’What’s... happening?’

The question echoed in Eli’s skull, hollow and trembling, as the last of the dust drifted down like gray snow.

His hands hadn’t stopped shaking.

They trembled around the picture frame—tight, desperate—like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground instead of letting him unravel completely.

His breath hitched as he stared down at it, the cold metal digging into his palms. Something about the weight... felt wrong. Heavy. Important. Dangerous.

And yet—

He couldn’t let it go.

He swallowed hard, jaw clenching as he slid the frame inside his jacket. The icy press of it against his sternum sent a sharp shiver through him, almost like it recognized him.

’Don’t think about that. Just... move. Kairo and Caelen might be outside. Maybe they’re fighting the serpent. Maybe they’re okay.’

He forced himself forward.

One unsteady step.

Then another.

Broken glass crunched beneath his boots. Papers rustled in the stale air as he navigated through the chaos of the ruined lab, each footfall echoing too loudly in the silence.

His heart beat painfully, almost panicked.But still—no danger sense.

None.

’Then maybe... maybe they’re fighting it together. Maybe the system’s glitch is clearing. Maybe—’

He didn’t let himself hope. Not fully.

Not when the last few hours had shredded his nerves into ribbons.

He reached the doorway.

The cracked frame was rough beneath his fingertips as he lifted a trembling hand to steady himself. He leaned forward slowly—hesitant, bracing—for just a peek outside.

And what he saw punched the breath out of him.

"...Holy shit."

The world outside...was gone.

No forest.No towering trees.No serpent.

Just devastation.

Where there had once been dense growth and mist-shrouded ancient trunks stronger than stone—there was now a crater.

A massive one.

As if an explosion the size of a meteor strike had slammed into the earth.

The ground was split open in a jagged circle nearly the size of a city block. Massive trees—some wider than houses—were torn out of the earth, thrown aside like broken twigs. Roots dangled from the air. Branches shattered into splinters.

The soil was scorched black.

Smoke drifted lazily upward from burning earth, curling like dying ghosts. A sharp, metallic scent—ash and ozone—stung Eli’s nose.

His pulse hammered, cold dread sinking into his stomach.

But... the most unsettling part wasn’t the crater.

It was the building.

The building he was standing in.

Pristine.

Untouched.

Not a crack in its walls.Not a pebble shifted.Not even dust disturbed.

"...The serpent didn’t destroy it?" Eli whispered, voice thin. "But this blast should’ve— it should’ve taken everything out. Unless..."

Unless the building was protected.

Or meant to withstand something of this scale.

Or—

He swallowed hard, throat dry.

His thoughts spiraled faster.

Unless the serpent wasn’t aiming for it.

Unless something else caused this explosion.

His heart lurched painfully.

He stepped out fully, pushing the door open with both hands, breath quick and uneven.

"Kairo?! Caelen?!"

His voice cracked.

He scanned the crater—wild, frantic panic rising in his chest.

No serpent.

No hunters.

No movement.

Only smoke... and silence.

’Where are they?’

’What happened?’

’What caused this—?’

Eli’s breath stilled.

At the far edge of the crater something shifted.

Slow. Heavy.

And familiar.

He stepped back instinctively, his spine hitting the doorway behind him.

Because out of the thinning smoke...something enormous was rising.

’Wait... no.’

Eli’s breath caught as his eyes finally focused.

It wasn’t enormous.

Not anymore.

The serpent stood only a few meters away, perched atop a mound of shattered earth and pulverized roots. Dust clung to its scales, smoke curling around its body like fading ribbons.

But the size—

It had changed.

Dramatically.

Where it had once towered like a living mountain—an impossible wall of muscle and mana—it was now smaller.

Not small by any means; it still loomed three, maybe four times his height. But compared to the monstrous form that had carried him like a grain of rice?

It was tiny.

Eli’s mouth went dry. "What—what happened to you...?"

The serpent stared at him.

Directly at him.

Not in confusion.

Not in animal instinct.

But in complete, deliberate awareness.

Its scales, once a gleaming obsidian-blue, were fractured along the edges—hairline cracks glowing faintly like light trapped beneath glass.

Its eyes, which used to blaze bright enough to pierce the fog, were now dimmer... tired.

Weary.

Eli swallowed hard. "D-Did you... cause that?" he whispered, lifting a trembling hand toward the massive crater behind him.

The serpent blinked, slow and heavy.

Then—it nodded.

A clear, deliberate nod.

Eli’s stomach dropped, a tremor running down his spine. "You... you really understand me."

A soft hiss rolled out—low, deep, but peaceful. Not threatening. Not warning.

Almost like a sigh.

Eli stared, stunned. His pulse fluttered painfully in his throat.

"Why are you being so..." he muttered before he could stop himself, "...so chill with me?"

God. Out of all words—chill?

But the serpent tilted its head at him, as if actually considering the question.

And somehow, that was even worse.

Because this was the creature that electrocuted him. The monster they fought. The massive SS-Class boss of an entire dungeon.

And now it was sitting there like...

Like a giant, worn-out guardian waiting for permission to approach.

Eli’s chest tightened.

’I can’t... I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this.’

He took a shaky breath, stepping forward just an inch.

"Did you make that explosion... to keep something away?" he asked quietly. "Or... to stop something from getting inside?"

The serpent’s pupils narrowed.

Then—slowly—it shook its head.

Once.

Twice.

A definitive no.

Eli blinked, confusion knotting in his gut. "Then... what were you trying to—?"

The serpent moved.

Just a small shift—its entire body rippling with effort as it edged sideways, dragging its cracked scales along the dirt. It winced—actually winced—as if its body protested the motion.

Eli stiffened.

It wasn’t threatening him.

It was... stepping aside.

Creating space.

As if about to show him something.

Eli watched the serpent closely—every twitch of its battered scales, every tremble rolling down its massive, cracked body.

It wasn’t coiling to strike.

It was... shaking.

At first Eli thought it was injured, that the cracks glowing along its sides were signs of pain. But then—

A faint spark snapped across its scales.

tkk—!

Eli stiffened. "Wh—wait, what are you—"

Before he could even finish, electricity exploded over the serpent’s entire body.

FZZZZZT—!

Blue-white lightning erupted like a second skin. It raced across the creature’s length, weaving through its scales like living veins of light. The serpent hissed—not in agony—but in concentration, as if channeling every drop of power it had left.

Its body began to shift.

Not violently.

Not monstrously.

More like something melting and re-forming at the same time.

Its bones crackled like breaking ice.

Its muscles rippled inward.

Its long body compressed as arcs of lightning wrapped tighter and tighter around it.

Eli threw his arms up as a burst of static cracked the air. "Oh shit—!"

The serpent blurred—large, then small, then large again—as if reality itself couldn’t decide what shape it wanted to take. The ground trembled under Eli’s boots with every unstable shift.

Then—

BOOM—!

A shockwave blasted outward, a rush of air that sent grass flattening in waves. Dust spiraled up, stinging Eli’s eyes as he coughed and squinted through the haze.

And when the dust finally cleared—

Eli froze.

The serpent was smaller.

Much smaller.

No longer a living mountain—no longer an impossibly large titan of the dungeon—but a creature only twice his height, coiled lightly in the torn grass like a massive, glowing hound.

Its scales still crackled faintly with leftover electricity, but its eyes...

Its eyes were different.

Dimmer. Weaker.

Almost gentle.

Eli stared, mouth hanging open. "S-So that’s what caused the explosion..."

The serpent blinked at him, head tilting.

Then—its tail... wiggled.

Actually wiggled.

Eli blinked again. ’He’s like a...’

The serpent wiggled harder.

’...puppy.’

Eli dragged a hand down his face. "Is this real life...?"

The serpent made a sound—a soft, delighted hiss—and bounced (yes, bounced) a little in place, electricity sparking in little harmless bursts along its sides.

It looked proud.

Happy.

Like it expected praise.

"I... uh..." Eli stammered. "Good... job? I guess?"

The serpent let out a joyful rumble, tail thumping the ground.

Eli stared helplessly. ’This is the same thing that tried to electrocute me to death earlier. What is happening—’

The serpent suddenly slithered closer.

Eli froze on instinct, stepping back—

But then it tried to speak.

Its jaw cracked open, electricity buzzing faintly between its teeth. Its tongue flicked out, trembling with effort.

"Or...i...on..."

Eli’s entire body went still.

His heartbeat stopped.

His breath hitched painfully in his throat.

Oh.

That name.

Again.

Again and again—

The serpent’s pupils narrowed, focusing entirely on him as its tail tapped the ground once, like recognition.

It gathered its strength, static crawling across its lips as the sound struggled out again:

"Or...i...on..."

Eli staggered back, hand flying instinctively to his chest—right where the picture frame lay warm against his skin.

The same name that glitched his system.

The same name that made the serpent react before.

The same name echoing in his mind every time he was near death.

His voice shook. "Does..."

He took a shaky step forward. Then another.

He stopped just in front of the serpent, staring up into its dim, ancient eyes.

"Does that word actually mean something to you...?" he whispered, his voice barely holding together. "Does Orion... mean something?"