CHAPTER 125: CH 125: THE VORTEX OF WIND- PART 3

Nedrax growled but obeyed, diving down. Fenrir threw up his left hand, and the ground beneath them rumbled.

A wall of jagged stone burst upward, shielding them from the next gust.

The moment they passed it, Fenrir raised another—then another—each one a towering structure of earth designed to block the cutting wind.

But the wind was relentless.

Every barrier shattered within seconds, torn apart like paper by the eagle’s fury. Still, Fenrir didn’t stop.

He conjured walls, domes, angled slabs—all crumbling under the pressure, but buying them inches, seconds.

"Just a little closer. Come on... just a little more."

Fenrir muttered, sweat mixing with the rain.

The boss let out a deafening cry and beat its wings again, sending a compressed blast of wind their way.

Nedrax rolled, dodging the brunt of it, but a sharp edge caught Fenrir across the arm, drawing blood.

"Fenrir!"

Nedrax growled, his voice strained.

"I’m fine. Take me over the boss!"

Fenrir snapped, ripping out the second arrow and pouring mana into it.

Nedrax hesitated.

"You’ll fall."

"Then catch me!"

Without waiting for confirmation, Fenrir leapt from the dragon’s back.

For a heartbeat, time slowed. He hurtled through the air, eyes locked on the boss. It reared its head, sensing him—wings flaring open.

The pressure slammed into Fenrir mid-air, tossing him like a leaf—but he twisted, using Master of Earth to anchor a chunk of stone and pull himself back on course. The eagle spun to intercept, wind blades rising around it.

Fenrir didn’t flinch.

He reached out with his mana, shaped it into a razor-thin thread of control, and forced it into the arrow.

Then—using the last burst of movement—he slammed the arrow into the monster’s back.

The effect was instant.

The embedded arrow flared, its storm-piercing enchantments activating on contact. A pulse of mana surged through the eagle’s body—and then the wind collapsed.

Like a candle snuffed out, the hurricane vanished. The air turned still. Rain poured steadily again, no longer flung sideways.

The storm eagle staggered mid-flight, its power core disrupted. It screamed in pain, spinning wildly before crashing into the ground below in a thunderous heap.

Fenrir landed hard a second later, rolling through the mud, coughing but alive.

Nedrax landed beside him with a crash, eyes wide.

"We did it....not that I doubted us for a second."

"Not yet. It’s still breathing."

Fenrir muttered, dragging himself to his feet.

The boss twitched, trying to rise. But without the wind, it was just a massive beast—no longer untouchable.

Fenrir’s eyes gleamed.

"Let’s finish this."

He charged forward, sword in hand. The eagle snapped its beak, trying to peck him apart, but Nedrax leapt between them, ramming his body into the beast’s neck and slamming it into the dirt.

Fenrir used the opening, sliding under the boss’s chest and stabbing his blade upward—embedding it deep into the monster’s core.

Mana surged through the blade, connecting with the arrow still in the boss’s back. Together, the constructs detonated in a controlled burst, severing the boss’s remaining power.

The eagle spasmed once—then went still.

Its body dissolved into glittering mana particles, leaving behind only silence and the scent of ozone.

[Boss of Floor 5 Defeated. Path to Floor 6: Unlocked.]

[Special Title Gained: Stormbreaker]

Fenrir looked to the sky as the clouds cleared, revealing the sun for the first time since he’d arrived on the floor.

"...One step closer."

He whispered.

Nedrax snorted.

"Let’s hope the next one doesn’t come with a monsoon."

Fenrir chuckled and walked forward, the path ahead opening wide.

Fenrir approached the fading remnants of the storm eagle, his eyes locked on the shimmering cluster of energy floating where the boss’s heart had once been.

At its center, pulsating like a miniature sun caught in a hurricane, was the Vortex of Wind—his stolen power, finally within reach.

But the moment he stepped closer, the wind began to howl again.

"What the—Didn’t we just kill that thing?"

Nedrax tensed behind him, wings twitching.

"This isn’t the boss. It’s the power. It’s resisting."

Fenrir muttered, narrowing his eyes.

The orb cracked. Thin lines of light spiderwebbed across its surface, and then—boom.

It exploded into a maelstrom of raw wind energy.

The shockwave knocked both Fenrir and Nedrax back. Sand and debris spiraled into the air as the wild storm reformed—this time without a host, without a body.

Just uncontrolled, primal wind, raging in all directions. There was no enemy to fight. No form to strike. Just the Vortex itself, a force of nature rebelling against its former master.

Fenrir’s boots scraped across the ground as he forced himself upright. He shielded his face with one arm, eyes squinting through the violent gusts.

"Damn it. You don’t have another arrow..."

"I can’t shoot wind anyway! That thing’s gone rogue! You’ve gotta back off!"

Fenrir shouted.

He stepped forward.

He pushed against the gale, each movement like trudging through a tsunami. Rocks skidded past him, the ground cracking beneath the sheer force of the vortex.

The closer he got, the more his skin burned from the pressure, and his cloak was shredded in seconds.

Still, he walked.

The source of it all—the gem that had triggered the wind’s rampage—floated at the eye of the storm, suspended in midair like a cursed jewel. It pulsed violently, leaking greenish-white tendrils of power in all directions.

And Fenrir reached for it.

The wind screamed in protest, slicing into his arms and chest like invisible blades. His fingers bled. His vision blurred.

But his grip tightened.

He forced his hand around the gem, roaring as the storm’s wrath surged into his veins.

And then—

silence.

The winds vanished.

The air snapped still, and all the scattered debris fell to the ground with muffled thuds.

The gem was gone.

Fenrir staggered back, breathing hard. His arm smoked where the power had entered him, veins glowing faintly green.

The pain was indescribable—like his muscles were being twisted from the inside, like his lungs were filled with fire and ice at the same time.

But...

He felt it.

A familiar presence—coiling back into his soul.

The Vortex of Wind was returning.

He dropped to one knee, gripping his chest as his mana circuits shifted to accommodate the returning force.

It wasn’t just a skill—it was a part of him, a power that had been ripped away and was now fusing back into his core.

His system chimed.

[You have absorbed a Legendary Power: Vortex of Wind.]

[Class Skill: Master of Wind – Unlocked.]

[Level Up! You are now Level 70.]

Energy surged through him, wild and overwhelming. His heart pounded like a drum.

The air around him began to stir on its own, following his breath, responding to his thoughts. He didn’t have to command the wind anymore.

It listened.

Fenrir exhaled—and the wind bent backward, forming a ripple across the ground.

"...It’s mine again. Finally."

He muttered, staring at his open palm.

Nedrax landed beside him, his large form settling with a thud.

"You alive?"

"Barely. But I’ve never felt more like myself."

Fenrir replied, straightening up. His clothes were in tatters, his arms marked with glowing streaks—but his eyes were sharper than ever.

The dragon grunted.

"You humans and your need for dramatic flair."