Kael's job had been simple at first: wait, aim, and strike. Garret would lure the creature to the window, and all he had to do was fire the specialized ice arrow.
But now… now the situation had changed. The creature had smashed its body to Garret and now they were falling from the third floor. Kael wasn't just aiming at a stationary target anymore — he had to hit a moving, falling monster without impaling his comrade in the chaos.
His hands were steady, but his heart hammered. Every second stretched unbearably as he calculated trajectory, distance, and timing. The shadows swirling around Garret obscured his peripheral vision, and the creature twisted unpredictably, claws flexing like curved knives.
Kael drew in a long, measured breath. He focused on the arrow in his bow, condensed ice, forged from Eira's mana and magic. One shot, one chance.
And then he released.
The arrow streaked through the air, a blur of crystal-white light, cutting toward the falling creature. The wind whistled past Kael's ears as he followed the trajectory with every ounce of his concentration.
The moment hung frozen in time. The creature's scream was muffled by the wind, Garret's shadowed figure barely moving aside.
Impact.
The arrow hit — but not as intended.
At the last possible instant, the creature twisted unnaturally in mid-air, avoiding impalement. The ice arrow struck, but only partially. Its left forelimb was obliterated, shredded by frost and force. The creature let out a chilling insectile shriek.
Performing a violent, twisting somersault, it slammed to the floor. Debris erupted from the impact splintered concrete scattering across the ground.
Garret landed at the exact moment. Calling it a landing would be very generous. He hit the ground with a bone-jarring crash, sending debris flying in all directions. Concrete splintered beneath the force. The impact reverberated up his legs and through his torso, knocking the air from his lungs in a painful burst.
Dust and splinters filled the air, stinging his eyes and throat. Even so, his body moved before thought could catch up. He rolled with the momentum, twisting to absorb the force, shadows writhing around him to soften and redirect the blow. The Chixiao remained firmly in his hands, blade still gleaming, ready for the next strike. He moved toward the creature
The First Weave recovered instantly, unfazed by the missing limb. Its remaining three Scimitar-like limbs flexed, coiling like springs of lethal intent. Without hesitation, it charged directly toward Darrius who was dumbfounded but the fast turn of events.
"Darrius! Move," Kael bellowed, but there was no time for words
But Eira had foreseen the strike. Calmly, almost silently, she whispered.
"Ice wall."
A thick barrier of ice erupted from her hands just as the creature slammed into it. The impact was bone-jarring. Darrius stumbled, saved from immediate death — but there was no relief. The ice wall cracked and groaned under the creature's weight, shards splintering in every direction.
The First Weave then spun, its remaining limbs flexing with lethal intent, and charged toward Eira. Time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in shock, there wasn't enough room, or time to cast a skill.
The creature's knife-like limb lunged straight for her heart. Eira reacted instinctively, raising her sword just in time to deflect the strike. The force of the impact sent a sharp pain tearing through her shoulder, a shallow but bleeding cut forming instantly.
Before she could recover or cast another spell, the creature lashed out again, its motion fluid and deadly. But by this time, Garret had already reached the scene.
He surged forward, the Chixiao cutting through the chaos like a shadowed blade of vengeance. In a single and precise strike, he cleaved the creature's right hind leg, severing it cleanly. The First Weave screamed, its balance thrown off as shards of debris flew in every direction.
Eira's dagger flashed toward the creature's neck, but in a heartbeat, it vanished. Not a miss, not a parry, but a blink of nothingness, as if the air itself swallowed it.
Garret's eyes narrowed. He caught the faintest glimmer where the dagger had almost struck. The bastard had moved with preternatural speed, almost like Teleportation. And the awareness in its compound eyes — the way it anticipated every strike — told him it wasn't just fast. It had Danger Sense, predicting threats before they even manifested.
The creature landed several feet away, back on its remaining limbs, unscathed except for the shredded limbs and the nick from Eira. Its gaze swept the area, calculating. Survival instincts flared, and Garret could see it, it wanted out. The creature realized it was cornered, outmatched. It flexed its remaining limbs, then in one fluid motion, it began to retreat. Not because it had been defeated — but because it had recognized the odds of surviving this encounter were slim.
Garret's chest heaved. He was mad, really mad. The Shroud of the Grieving Soul fed his consciousness with harrowing visions, his sister suffering countless deaths, every ounce of despair he had ever felt. From deep within, something flickered — a spark of pure unrelenting malice, a darkness that had nothing to do with reason.
Eira, closest to him, felt it immediately. A creeping instinct clawed at her mind, whispering in a voice older than fear itself 'RUN!' Her muscles tensed, her heart raced, but she didn't move. She couldn't.
The others weren't spared either. Leah, Dave, Aria, Marcus, Darrius and Kael— shadows of their deepest nightmares rose in their minds, twisting corridors, screams of those they couldn't save, moments of failure amplified a hundredfold. Dread rooted them to the spot.
Garret's eyes, almost entirely black with the mantle's influence, fixed on the creature that had tried to escape. It trembled, limbs shaking, sweat — or whatever passed for it in its unnatural physiology — coating its twisted form. Its compound eyes widened in primal fear.
"Shadow bind…"
Garret whispered, voice low, guttural, almost unrecognizable, as if the darkness itself spoke through him.
Shadows erupted from the mantle, curling like serpents, wrapping around the First Weave. The air thickened, oppressive, as the creature thrashed in panic. Its teleportation, its danger sense — nothing worked. The Shroud fed on its fear, constricting, binding, suffocating.
The area was suffused with a malignant aura. The very air vibrated with dread, and every survivor could feel it pressing against their minds, testing the limits of their sanity. Even Eira, with her foresight and calm, felt her knees weaken, a chill crawling up her spine.
And in the center of it all, Garret stood as both storm and executioner, shadows writhing around him. The First Weave's desperation was palpable — every instinct screaming that this encounter had turned into a trap it could not survive.
And before long… the calming words of the weave
"You have slain the First Weave Level 31 Hybrid Zombie… you have not yet advanced…"
The largest flash of light went to Garret, two smaller went to Kael and Eira while the smallest went to Darrius, his near death encounter rewarded by the Weave.
Leaving the others to deal with the loot, he moved toward the dorm. To confirm his sister.