Chapter 19: the Wolf and the Shield
Nov 8, 2025
Rage. Hatred. Revenge. Malice. Destruction. Murderous intent.
These emotions are not merely feelings — they are catalysts.
When unleashed, they consume. They strip away restraint and reveal what lies beneath: the truest, darkest self.
It is the side humanity denies — the shadow everyone fears to face. Every person carries a devil within, dormant and waiting.
And when that devil is fed — through pain, fury, or despair — it awakens.That is when one becomes truly human.
That is when one becomes truly powerful.
These were James's thoughts as he crouched behind the wreckage of the shattered observation deck, quietly observing Amon brutally crush the life out of the female scientist. Despite the carnage, James couldn't help but smile.
He didn't fear this darker side of Amon — if anything, he found it fascinating. But more than the violence, it was the magic that intrigued him.
"This boy… he wields Spatial Magic," James murmured to himself. "The ability to manipulate space itself — to bend distance, reshape dimensions, or summon from other realms."
"Spatial Magic forms the foundation — governing movement, distortion, compression, expansion… even summoning and storage."
But one question gnawed at him: what kind of Spatial Magic does Amon possess?
He recalled the sight of floating guns, twisted metal, and shattered glass fusing into that grotesque, massive arm.
"Whatever his variant is, it's still Spatial in nature… yet focused not on teleportation or traversal, but on weaponized distortion — turning space itself into physical force."
A pause. Then realization. "To put it simply… Amon uses space as a weapon."
He pressed a hand to the console beside him, thinking aloud. "Spatial Magic governs the properties of distance and dimension. Most mages use it for transport or containment… but some can weaponize distortion itself — manipulating compression and expansion within localized fields."
James's lips curled into a grin. "This refined branch is known as Attraction and Repulsion Magic — a gravitational variant born from the manipulation of space's invisible tension."
So every aspect of Amon's current and potential power stemmed from that same Spatial foundation.
Magic, after all, was not static. It was a living system — shaped by time, culture, and relentless experimentation. Across generations, people discovered, fused, and evolved existing magics. Scholars tried to classify them, yet even they admitted the truth: the number is uncountable.
Once, there were only a few dozen known branches. But as civilizations grew, so did their understanding — and no two scholars could now agree on how many truly existed.
Magic evolved through curiosity — through scientists and mages daring to blend elemental, physical, and spiritual laws.
To count the types of magic would be like counting the stars. Each generation birthed new forms, new theories, new forces that rewrote the very fabric of existence.
Only a few fundamental categories remain constant. Everything else — infinite.
James frowned, his analytical mind looping back to the boy. "But why," he muttered, "would such a powerful magic belong to him? A child? A nobody?"
It made no sense.
To him, there was nothing extraordinary about Amon. Yet, deep down, he couldn't ignore the truth — this boy was an anomaly.
And that curiosity consumed him.
'Most humans aren't born with active magic,' he thought. 'It manifests later — triggered by training, trauma, or emotion. But some children are born with immense magical potential, usually inherited from powerful parents…'
He paused, eyes narrowing. "…But that only raises another question."
His voice dropped to a whisper. "Who were Amon's parents? And what kind of monsters could give birth… to something like him?"
The ruined laboratory was silent, until two figures faced each other across the fractured floor.
Alexander's glare cut through the haze.
"Since the day I met you, I knew we'd never get along." He stepped over scorched debris, wreckage born from Amon's earlier shockwaves. The air itself still trembled faintly, space rippling like disturbed water.
It just so happened that this area was torn apart by Amon's shockwaves from earlier.
That distortion doesn't just stir the air. It crushes it, compressing and decompressing in rapid succession, forming invisible shockwaves that rip through the environment.
These aren't mere gusts of wind. They're localized ruptures in space itself. Because Amon's magic is spatial in nature, his aura isn't heat or lightning — it's pressure. Pure, overwhelming pressure on existence itself.
That's the true cause of the shockwaves.
Rex cracked a grin. "Mutual feeling."His green aura flared, claws humming with Ethernano. "So what's your point?"
Alex didn't answer. From the rubble, he pulled a long metal pole, spinning it once before pointing it forward. "Just wanted to say it… before I kill you."
Rex chuckled. "You always talk too much."
The floor shattered beneath them as both men vanished from sight.
Clang!
Steel met claws in a flash of light and sound. Sparks scattered. Alex twisted his body, planting a boot square into Rex's gut. Rex slid back, boots grinding against the tiles.
Before Rex could recover, Alex lunged, his pole thrusting straight for the head. Rex ducked, air splitting past his ear.
Alex spun, turning the thrust into a brutal horizontal swing. Rex caught the pole mid-swing, his clawed hand tightening. Muscles tensed, veins lit with green light.
"Too slow."
With one arm, he hoisted Alex clean off the ground. Alex's eyes widened.
'He's lifting me?!'
Rex's leg snapped upward like a whip, his heel slammed into Alex's chest. The blow launched him backward through the air.
Alex twisted midair, slammed the pole into the floor, and skidded to a halt.
Rex straightened, brushing dust off his chest. "That armor of yours is really pissing me off."
Alex spat blood, his smirk returning. "Good. Then try harder."
Rex dropped low, muscles coiling tight.
Then, boom, he launched forward, tearing across the floor like a beast unleashed. His claws gleamed, slicing through the air as he lunged straight for Alex's throat.
Metal clashed. Alex twisted his pole, deflecting the swipe by a hair's breadth.
Sparks burst.
Rex didn't stop. Midair, his body twisted, whip-fast, and his heel came flying in a spinning kick.
Alex bent low, barely evading as wind pressure grazed his face. Rex landed, the floor cracking under his feet, then vanished.
He reappeared a heartbeat later, fists already flying.
A storm of blows.
Each strike is sharper, faster, heavier.
Alex stumbled back, off balance. The pole trembled in his grip as he raised it to block.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Every punch detonated like gunfire, the rhythm so fast it blurred into one violent roar.
Rex's aura flared emerald, his momentum skyrocketing.
Bam!
Bam!
One more!
"Now!"
He drove his clawed fist forward, glowing with raw energy. Alex tried to block, but his guard shattered.
The impact thundered through the room. Alex's head snapped back, his body flung like a ragdoll.
He slammed into the far wall, stone and dust exploding around him. For a moment, the only sound was Rex's ragged breathing, and the echo of the last punch still ringing through the air.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion rocked the lab.
Rex snapped his head toward the blast, a fiery bloom rising from the far wing.
"That's… where Amon is."
"Hey, kid! You alr—"
A silver blur. Instinct kicked in. Rex jerked his head aside. A thin cut opened beneath his eye.
'A second slower… I'd have lost it.'
"Did you really think you beat me?!" Alex's voice cut through the smoke. He stood there, blood dripping down his temple, eyes burning through the haze.
"You're still conscious?" Rex muttered, genuinely surprised. "Most would've been out cold."
"Still conscious?" Alex spat, wiping the blood from his face. "Don't get cocky just 'cause you beat me hand-to-hand!"
Rex's lips curled into a smirk. "Beat you? I know I did."
Melee Combat.
A discipline built on instinct, precision, and blood.
As its name suggests, it's the art of fighting at close range — fists, blades, or raw body strength clashing in brutal rhythm.
Some wizards, however, neglect this side of battle. They bury themselves in study, letting their bodies dull while their minds sharpen their spells.
Alex was one of them. A mage of immense magical refinement… but little experience in the chaos of a true brawl.
That's why Rex had overwhelmed him earlier.
Melee combat is divided into two paths — Hand-to-Hand and Armed Combat.
Practitioners of Hand-to-Hand rely purely on their own bodies: fists, knees, elbows, and instinct. Some are straightforward, striking with brute power; others flow like water, dodging and countering with agility and precision.
Few follow formal martial schools, most shape their style through experience, pain, and survival.
In contrast, Armed Combat merges physical mastery with weapon technique. Swords, spears, staves, gauntlets, each weapon mirrors its wielder's nature.
Alex's metal pole, cold and unyielding, was his focus. And for mages, that difference is everything.
Magic itself can amplify the body, enhancing strength, reflex, or endurance. The strongest mages weave spellcraft directly into their close combat, creating a fusion of muscle and magic.
That's what set Rex apart.
His fists weren't just fast , they burned with magic, his green aura coiling around them like a living flame. Each strike carried not just force, but the weight of his Ethernano.
Yet while Rex excelled in the physical, Alex's domain lay elsewhere.
That grin — cocky, infuriating — only fueled Alex's rage.
"Then let's see how you handle this!"He thrust out his hand. Dozens of glowing blue magic circles flared into existence around him — rotating like icy halos.
"Here we go again…" Rex muttered.
Each circle fired a shard of ice, streaking through the air in perfect synchronization. Rex sprinted off, zigzagging through the lab.
He didn't drop to all fours this time, running upright, slightly slower, but still fast enough to blur.
The shards changed direction midair, homing in on him.
'Telekinesis? Multi-casting, huh.' Rex's eyes sharpened. He launched himself up a wall, sprinting across its surface without losing speed.
Again, the shards adjusted course, slicing through the air behind him.
Back on the ground, Alex's aura erupted, pale blue light rippling from his body. Frost spread beneath his feet. His voice echoed low and steady, almost reverent.
"Ice is not born of nature… but of stillness."
"Water gives it form. Wind gives it breath."
"Together, they birth a silence that devours all motion."
Ice Magic.
A refined art — not a primal element like Fire or Wind, but a synthesis of both.
Water grants it shape; Wind grants it chill. Together, they forge stillness, the perfect silence between elements.
Ice is a Secondary Elemental Attribute, sometimes called a Refined Attribute.
Not born from nature, but crafted through harmony.
Alex's pole glowed brighter. The weapon wasn't merely a tool , it was a medium.
The temperature plummeted. Mist swirled. His metal pole pulsed with a cold, crystalline glow as frost crawled along its surface.
The entire room dimmed, light swallowed by the sheen of ice. A massive magic circle expanded beneath Alex's feet, the runes radiating a glacial blue.
Rex landed from his run, skidding to a halt. "You're chanting? Seriously?" He raised his fists. "Fine then!"
Green light flared around his hands. He threw a rapid series of punches.
bang! bang! bang!
Each blow shattering an ice shard into glittering fragments. The last two he caught midair, slamming them together with a thunderous crack.
Sweat rolled down his jaw. "Haa… still got it."
But Alex's voice carried over the rising hum of power.
"Descend upon this world and freeze all that defies you."
"Let flesh turn brittle…"
"And the earth shatters beneath the weight of frost."
Rex froze, eyes wide. "That's one hell of a long incantation…"
He started toward Alex, walking, then sprinting, his claws glowing bright.
"You're too slow," Alex whispered, finishing the chant. "I call upon the eternal chill that slumbers beneath the void…"
Ice Calamity!"
Rex lowered his arm, exhaling sharply.
"Now… Lupine Tw—"
Suddenly, a vision stabbed into his mind. His breath hitched. An image, himself, frozen solid, his body encased in ice with only his head exposed.
"!!!"
A cold dread seized him. His instincts screamed. Without hesitation, he halted mid-motion, boots grinding against the floor as he kicked off again, retreating hard.
He flipped backward, claws digging into the ceiling as he latched on, hanging there like a predator sensing a greater one.
The ground ruptured. A titanic ridge of jagged ice erupted upward, tearing through the lab like a beast awakening from the abyss. Walls split apart. Frost swallowed steel.
"…If I'd jumped even a second late…" He exhaled, shaking off the chill. "I'd be dead."
He glanced at Alex, still standing amid the ruin, his breath visible in the frozen air.
"So much magic power… was that all him?"
Alex raised the frostbitten pole, now glowing like a blade of solid ice. "You're insects compared to me."
Rex grinned, defiant. "Then this insect's still buzzing."
He dropped down from the ceiling, his claw spinning with emerald energy. Magic surged through his arm — the Lupine Claw roaring to life, claws rotating at blinding speed. Wind pressure tore at his coat as his aura flared, wild and feral.
Across from him, Alex crouched low, the ground cracking beneath his stance.
"Run wild, O fangs of the tempest… devour all before me…"
"Beast Arm…" Their auras ignited. Green and blue collided in a blaze of motion.
"Lupine Twister!"
The impact tore the air apart — a cyclone of emerald and frost erupting outward. The explosion of color and light swallowed the lab in smoke and chaos.
When the dust settled, Rex was standing. His arm bled. His breaths came rough and uneven.
"…I have to… get to Amon."
He turned, but his feet wouldn't move.
"What the—?" The floor had softened, sinking around his legs like quicksand.
An eerie voice drifted behind him. "You don't get it, do you?"
The frost crept over Rex's face, sealing the last trace of warmth in his eyes.
Alex didn't look back.
"In your next life… try not to be so pathetic."
The echo of his footsteps was the only sound left alive.
He turned and walked toward the distant explosion, toward Amon.
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